Compilation of Miscellaneous Typed Scribblings of A Random Guy

Chapters

Vampire Cults or Regular Colts?
Viva la Princesa Pinkie Pie!
Party of Flux
Chaotic Plumbing
The Coffee Button
The Celestia Sparkle Shakeup
Musical Victor’s Multiversal Merch-n-Vendors
End of Things That Came
Changing the Things That Came (Part 1)
An Account of the Origin of the Mad Mud Army
Changing the Things That Came (Part 2)
The "God" That Failed
Changing the Things That Came (Part 3)
Mad Mud Army Take Rainbow Falls
The Furniture Battle of Manehatten

Vampire Cults or Regular Colts?

By A Random Guy

The interior of Fluttershy’s cottage was unusually still for a Sunday morning, which was not what Fluttershy wanted on this particular day. She needed the cottage to be moving with a hurricane of cleaning. The windows still needed to be washed, the spruce-wood floors still had to be swept, and all the various surfaces of drawers and desks still required to be dusted.

Not that the visitors she was expecting would be judging her if the windows weren’t properly washed to expectations, or if the spruce-wood floors hadn’t been swept to industry standards, or if all the various surfaces of drawers and desks didn’t meet the ideal levels of dusting. In fact, the expected visitors, if they entered, would eventually leave the cottage in a state of disarray far worse that it currently was. But Fluttershy wasn’t worried about that problem. All she was worried about was making an impression that didn’t point out evidence that she was beyond a normal pony.

Instead of preforming a vigorous routine of cleaning, Fluttershy was addressing a problem that pointed out evidence that she was beyond a normal pony. And she was addressing it poorly.

The casual observer could have assumed on first glance that while undergoing her regular morning grooming routine, Fluttershy accidently used her infamous “Stare” against herself while brushing her teeth in front of the bathroom mirror. While this didn’t happen, similar effects overtook her when she opened her mouth. She stood wide-eyed as she caught sight of two glistening twinkles protruding from her teeth, two fangs.

“Twilight forgot,” Fluttershy muttered to herself. “She forgot the fangs.”

Twilight’s spell should have removed all of the bat from me, she thought to herself. If the fangs are still here, what else did Twilight forget?

“She forgot,” she repeated to herself.

A knock from the front door broke her out of her trance with the dental protrusions. Her morning tooth-brushing would have to wait.

“Coming!” she called out to the sudden visitor. “Oh, how am I going to hide these fangs and talk to them at the same time?”

Then, she came up with a clever idea. She picked out a washcloth from the bathroom closet and held it against her mouth with a hoof. This should work, she thought.

As she trotted to the living room to answer the door, she realized that she didn’t get around to cleaning the cottage. It was a shame it would be left relatively dirty like this, but it would be rather rude if she started cleaning with guests in her house.

Sweeping the thought of a dirty house out of her mind, and keeping the washcloth tight against her mouth, she opened the door to reveal her visitors.

“Hey Fluttershy!” yelled a trio of voices, to which Fluttershy responded with a recoil from the sudden barrage of sound. After a small moment of recovery, Fluttershy looked down to see the sisters of two of her best friends. And Scootaloo was there, too.

“Hello, girls,” Fluttershy muffled through the cloth. “What are you doing here this early in the morning? Shouldn’t you be home eating breakfast?”

Applebloom piped up with an answer. “Well, we were planning so much last night that we didn’t sleep. We were so excited about coming to see you that we decided we didn’t need breakfast!”

“What were you planning last night?” Fluttershy inquired.

Sweetie Belle pointed at the washcloth in Fluttershy’s hoof. “I think a better question is why do you have your mouth covered?”

“It’s for, um… well,” Fluttershy stammered. Her body tensed as she tried to come up with a convincing excuse. She winced as her fang poked her hoof from pressing with the washcloth too hard. “It’s because I have really bad breath!” she blurted. “I can’t work with the animals with bad breath like mine.”

Fluttershy felt the tension release a little as the trio in front of her seemed convinced that a sudden case of halitosis constituted a need for a washcloth against the mouth.

Scootaloo continued on for her partners. “We need your help raising a cult.”

“Girls, I don’t think you’re old enough to be raising a colt,” Fluttershy replied, a little startled at the question.

Applebloom interjected. “We did our research. We didn’t find an age limit for a cult.”

Sweetie Belle went in for support. “It can’t be that hard. We just need a few ponies with dedication and something to idolize. And we already have a few ponies.”

“You do know colts need more than an idol? Colt raising is a very difficult process. They require lots of love, care, and responsibility. Lots of responsibility!”

Scootaloo retorted. “Hey, adults mess up cults all the time. Maybe three fillies can do a better job than an adult.”

Sweetie Belle spoke up. “Besides, all we need is an idol, and that’s where you come in!”

“Me?” Fluttershy gasped.

Applebloom responded. “You, because you’re a vampire. We saw you Friday night being all vampiry in the apple orchards. That’s something a cult idolizes, right?”

Fluttershy couldn’t respond. Her mind was trying to process that her secret wasn’t a secret anymore. She was so deep in shock that she didn’t try to stop the washcloth from falling on the floor, revealing the two fangs glistening in her mouth. The trio, ecstatic that they were right about Fluttershy being a vampire, oohed and awed over her oral protrusions.

Hold on, Fluttershy thought. Why was being a vampire a secret? It was just for a couple nights. All that’s left is the fangs.

“Yes girls,” she replied after a few elongated moments of mental rebooting. “I was a vampire. But I only have the fangs now. Now why do you need me as an idol for a colt?”

Sweetie Belle answered. “All the best cults have idols. Haven’t you read Daring Do? There are cults in that book that have idols coming out of the wazoo.”

“I don’t think I would be a good idol. But I also don’t think it’s responsible to have a colt without a name.”

Scootaloo chirped up. “Taken care of. It’s called…” – dramatic pause – “Nightlust!”

On the other side of Ponyville, a cross-eyed pony crashed into a storm cloud, unleashing a crack of thunder that could be heard from Fluttershy’s cottage.

“That’s a rather dark name for a colt.”

Applebloom came in for defense. “We think it’s appropriate for a cult that idolizes a vampire.”

Sweetie Belle interjected. “Guys, we need to get over to old Lyra’s place. She said she’d be getting the ritual stuff this morning.”

Scootaloo jumped up in enthusiasm. “Well, what are we waiting for? We got our idol! We just need to perform the rituals in our idol’s name!”

The group started to run towards Lyra’s place for their ritual stuff that they decided was important for their needs. Applebloom called back. “Thanks for being our idol, Fluttershy!”

“But I didn’t… I’m not a… Please don’t go raising a cult!”

But her plea wasn’t heard. Her voice wasn’t powerful enough to reach the trio’s ears as they ran down the path to Lyra’s place.

“This isn’t good,” Fluttershy mumbled as her hoof rubbed the washcloth into the dirt.

She didn’t have much time to wallow in disappointment, for she saw something flicker in the corner of her eye that caused her head to reflexively jerk to see what it was.

Out of thin air, Twilight Sparkle appeared as if she threw off a cloak. As she made her appearance, Twilight made a mad dash for Fluttershy.

“Did they do it?” Twilight cried out.

“No, they didn’t,” Fluttershy muttered as Twilight slowed down. “I tried talking about raising colts, not cults, and, and… You forgot the fangs.”

“Oh. That’s not good. At least you tried, Fluttershy,” Twilight assured as she sat down next to her pegasus friend. “I didn’t expect you to convince them in one visit. We’re going to have to be more direct next time.”

“I would’ve done it this time if I didn’t have the fangs”

“Well, live and learn. I think I can stop them at Lyra’s place.”

“We could, you know, let them make the cult.”

“You know why we can’t do that.”

“Yes, but they’ll learn why not to on their own. And if not, maybe a little change in the future won’t hurt.”

“We both know it’s not going to be good change. Vampire cults never end in good change. We can’t let cults go running about, even if it’s made by a few fillies.”

“I know. Go do what you have to do. Just don’t be too harsh on them. They don’t know what wrong they do.”

Twilight gave a nod before standing up. “They’ll learn.” Twilight’s horn began to glow as she began to form a teleportation spell. “Hail Celestia.”

“Hail Celestia,” Fluttershy repeated. In a flash, Twilight was gone, leaving the pegasus to her stillness of the cottage.

“You still forgot the fangs.”

Author's Note

Written for the Equestria Daily Writer’s Training Grounds for the “Bats!” episode. It's for helping me improve my writing within a 1500 word space. Criticism is welcome.

Viva la Princesa Pinkie Pie!

Viva la Princesa Pinkie Pie!
By A Random Guy

Twilight Sparkle wasn’t the kind of pony to have traveling on the forefront of her mind. She did get excited over visiting new places as much as the next pony, but those trips were usually arranged by her friends, or by disasters of comical proportions, and where always set somewhere in Equestria.

Visiting places outside of the nation of Equestria was an idea she partook in solely with her books. She would enjoy a good story of the adventures of some world traveler, then share the book with her friends if it was decent enough. If a foreign place entranced her enough, she would incorporate it with whatever she was studying, such as studying the geology of Zebrica or investigating the environmental symbiosis of Seaponies. Being an herbivore, studying the science of cooking and a few adventures in the Griffon Kingdom in the same week wasn’t pleasing for her stomach.

After reading about the adventures of Rocinante, she had been entranced with Bronxican literature, even if some was poorly translated. Following that, she asked Celestia for access to family records of different countries, specifically for Bronxico. Celestia had abided, but warned that the Bronxicans had a very long history, and reading though the family lineages would not be a lighthearted task.

Spike was learning just how massive its family history was. He could tell you that it was at least a half a metric ton in scrolls. He estimated that each batch of scrolls sent through him had about ten pounds to a stack. He also estimated that he ran up and down the stairs around a hundred times to bring each stack downstairs. Spike felt like Celestia was going to send the second half of the metric ton soon.

Twilight was also learning about the sizes of foreign families, but based measurements on content instead of mass. Several scrolls flew around Twilight in a swarm. A purple glow shone on her face as pages passed by her eyes. Her mind was forming mental connections between the walls of written names soaring around. A vision of branches of pony families formed. The branches merged with twigs as families married into each other and common links between ancestors were found. There were the occasional twigs that would reconnect with themselves, indicating some ponies really liked their siblings.

As she spun the web of surnames and descendants in her head, Twilight wondered what else could be intertwined with all of these branches. Specifically, how broad were the standards of royalty?

“Spike, where’s the scroll for the Bronxican Royal Family lineage? It’s the white scroll with their flag seal.”

Spike looked around as he finished handling the latest ten pound stack of scrolls. “I think that was in pile #56. It’s by the olives I left out.”

Twilight reached out with her magic to retrieve the scroll. But her magic dropped as she turned her gaze to the library’s horsehead centerpiece table, where a bowl of green olives was placed for the convenience of those who liked olives, which was Spike for the most part.

“Could you get it for me? I really don’t want to go near those nasty little things.” Her gaze didn’t waver from the menace that filled the bowl to the brim.

Spike looked at what Twilight was referring to, and looked back to raise an eyebrow at her flatly. “The olives? Seriously? You hate them so much that you can’t even go near them?”

“It’s just they look too much like eyes. They stare at me knowing that I’m going to eat them, but I can’t with their little creepy stares looking at me!”

“Fine, I’ll get the scroll for you.” His eyes rolled as he went to do what Twilight wouldn’t.

He plucked a stylized scroll from the top of a ten pound stack. As he returned to pass on the scroll, Spike waved his hand in front of the bowl of olives. His feeble attempt of provoking them, however, didn’t elicit a response from the fruits. When they failed to show signs of sentience, all Spike could do was shrug and continue on.

“Thanks, Spike.” Twilight’s magic took the scroll from the little dragon’s hands and opened it to reveal its contents. “Let’s see. This family tree starts with Pastel Corta de Fresa, the first Bronxican queen, descending from the Establia Royal Family line. She gave birth to Limon Pastel, the next in line…” Twilight skimmed down the parchment, occasionally making a remark how a current day lineage related to a name in the middle of the paper. Spike tried reading over Twilight’s shoulder as she went down the list, but he couldn’t make out the language on the paper.

“… That leads us to Pastel de Carne, the last king before the revolt sixty years ago.”

“There was a revolt?”

“Yes. The entire continent was in revolt. All the countries in the region overthrew their rulers. Most are still in turmoil with corrupt governments. Bronxico was one of the lucky ones. They somewhat stabilized after they elected a president.”

“Why didn’t Equestria help any them?”

“We did, or so the public was told. There was an agency that instilled dictators for their own purposes. They did all sorts of horrible things just to hold power, like bribery, assassinations, brainwashing even. I’ll tell you more about it later. But now, back on track.”

Twilight continued commentating on the manuscript. “The line continues with Pastel Helado, who took the presidency for three terms. She had a daughter named Uva Pastel, who’s the current president.”

“A family ruling a country even after the king is gone. I’d say they’re a new breed of pony that feeds off of political power.”

“There are stranger things in this world.” Twilight’s eyes read back up through the scroll. “The lineage branches off from Pastel de Carne. His daughter, Piedra Pastel, moved to Equestria. She had kids here, named…” Twilight’s eyes went wide as they looked at a particular word. “Well that’s interesting.”

“What?” Spike jumped behind Twilight to try to see what she was talking about. “Is it somepony famous?”

“No.” She blinked several times, scrunched up her face, and shoved her nose against the parchment just to make sure the ink wasn’t smudged, although she may have been doing some smudging of her own.

“Piedra Pastel’s daughter… is Pinkie Pie.”

Spike’s jaw made an unhinging sound before metaphorically dropping to the ground. “What? No way! Pinkie is a princess?”

“I’m actually a queen!” The olive bowl, which had mysteriously ended up between Twilight and Spike during their conversation, gave birth to the pink pony Pinkie Pie with an explosion of green olives. “Queen of Parties, that is! I thought I told you that before.”

Twilight froze as olives rained down upon her. Every olive that splatted on her coat enticed a shrill squeak from the regal alicorn princes.

Pinkie gave an inquisitive look at her unicorn friend’s suffering. “She hasn’t recovered from the Griffon cookbook thing, has she?”

Spike tossed an olive into his mouth as he watched a spectacle that even he thought was overly quirky for Twilight. “She still has the nightmares about the spleen. So, you’re Bronxican royalty?”

“Sí, señor. Mi prima es la reya verdad de Bronxíco, si Bronxíco tiene reyes y reyas. ¡Maldiga la democracia!” Pinkie Pie rearranged her hair into a pink fluffy crown and took a heroic pose in the olive bowl. “¡Viva la reya!”

“Eh, what?”

Pinkie slumped back into the bowl; the hair crown popped back into conformation with her other fluffy locks. “I’m technically royalty, but my mama cut us off from that part of the family. She says there are too many plots and coups to raise children properly. Or maybe it was about too many ponies checking if you didn’t do your taxes. I don’t remember.”

Spike contemplated how he could use his friend’s title of royalty to his advantage. The thought crossed his mind of how the ladies love a guy in a suit of armor, and how knights were guys who wore suits of armor. He didn’t need to swoon all the ladies with armor, just one in particular. “So, can you knight ponies? Or maybe knight a dragon?”

“Sure! I just need an innuendo or a sword like thing to swing around and you’ll be un caballero de Bronxíco!”

“Cool, let me go get the broom.”

With Spike off on a quest to acquire the tools for knighthood, Pinkie directed her attention to the other member of royalty in the room. Twilight had calmed down considerably, but tensed up every time she tried to pull olive goop out of her mane with magic.

Twilight noticed that the room had gone awfully silent, and decided it needed to be rectified. She looked down at Pinkie, still in her bowl, and smiled. “So, Bronxican Queen of Parties?”

“Yep”

Twilight magically flicked a full olive from her hair. She felt shivers crawl up as the green olive stared at her for a brief moment, asking her to spare it from the inevitable doom of consumption, before splattering against the oakwood floor.

“You know, with two figures of authority living in Ponyville, tourism might double.”

“Silly Twilight, three more ponies aren’t going to come from hearing about me being a queen.”

“I got the broom!” Spike ran back into the room with the aforementioned objected clenched in his hand. “I don’t know if there’s anything else sword-like in the library, or ino-windows, whatever they are.”

“This will do. Let the ceremony begin!” Pinkie grabbed the broom from the little dragon. “It’s been a while since I did this, so I’ll need a refresher.” She swiveled the bowl towards Twilight. “Would you kindly kneel for the refresher?”

Twilight felt like questioning why a refresher was needed, but decided against it just to humor the two and their shenanigans. Twilight knelt before Pinkie, flaring out her wings and barely touching her horn against the base of the olive bowl.

“Twilight Sparkle, Alicorn Princess of Equestria” – Pinky tapped Twilight’s right shoulder with the broom handle – “By the power invested in me, I grant you the title of Knight of Bronxíco!” Pinkie raised the broomstick and tapped Twilight’s left shoulder.

“Viva la caballera.”

Twilight began to rise with grace. She knew she was just playing along with her friends, but she wanted to look the part of a newly knighted princess. She flapped her wings a bit for flare and raised her horn for th-

-WHACK-

Her world turned to black. Twilight hit the floor with a thud and her limbs sprawled out across the oakwood. A nice big broomstick mark was left across her forehead precisely where Pinkie whacked her.

Spike gave a horrified look. “What in Equestria was that?”

“That was a Bronxican knighting. It has a little more oomph to it than an Equestrian knighting.”

“That was completely uncalled for, Pinkie! What were you-“

“Now I knight you, Sir Spike!”

“Oh cr-“

-WHACK-

Spike found himself laying on the ground. The ground felt warm and cozy, and he felt sleepy. “Nighty night, ducky.” His vision went dark.

Pinkie twirled the broom above her in a nonchalant manner as she spun around in the olive bowl. Her friends looked so peaceful lying on the floor, unconscious and with possible concussions.

“You both should come see me give a Bronxican baptism. I’m great with the body cleansing.”

Twilight floated through an empty void. There was nothing to observe, yet she felt like she should be feeling something. She tried reaching out with her senses, but couldn’t find anything to grasp. Twilight just floated, only able to observe emptiness.

Then, out of the darkness, she heard trumpets.

It wasn’t the kind of trumpet that she heard all the time at royal ceremonies. They were playing too fast. They were playing a beat that one would dance to instead of opening a grand gala. The trumpets we accompanied by a wide range of instruments, from bongos to cowbells to maracas, accented by a piano, that all joined together to make a tropical sound.

Light soon joined the trumpets in the void as Twilight’s eyelids stretched apart. The light formed an archway in her vision, which seemed to be the gateway to more palpable sensations. Her nose filled to the brim with air that was tinged with the flavors of fruits that numbered by the thousands. She could taste a fruit salad with each breeze that came though the archway, yet only discern a fraction of what she tasted.

When Twilight’s vision finally cleared up, she saw that the archway was a gap in between the bricks of a stone wall. A cloudless sky shone through the window, and beamed across Twilights face. The trumpets’ tropical sounds poured through and engulfed her in energetic warmth.

She reached out with a hoof to try to feel the unfamiliar air, but all she could feel was cold hard restraint. She looked at her hoof to see that it didn’t even have the capability of reaching out. It was encased in a steel cuff, which was connected to the floor by links of chains.

Each of her hooves was cuffed to the floor, as well. She was pinned down against cold stonework. The warmth she felt before seemed to drain a bit. She tried pulling at the shackles, but didn’t do more than break the trumpets’ musical flow with an orchestra of clanking.

Feeling that struggling wouldn’t break her out anytime soon, Twilight decided the next best thing would suffice. “Hello! Anypony out there?” She couldn’t tell if she could be overheard over the trumpets. “I’m sure this was a great joke when you thought it out, but I’m not laughing, so let me out!”

In response to Twilight’s outcry, her vision was suddenly filled with a Cheshire smile and a rather pink face looking down at the unicorn.

“Bienvenido, Twilight!”

“Pinkie, thank Celestia, I was getting worried for a second. Can you let me go?”

“I can’t do that Twilight.”

“Pinkie, this isn’t funny. Let me go. I need to get stuff done.”

“Well, we need to do stuff here, so we have an itsy bit of a conflict of interests.”

Twilight looked around where she was, which was in a dinky stone room with one window to the outside world. “I’m sure here is a lovely spot to do… stuff. Where is here, exactly?”

“Why Twilight, couldn’t you tell?” Pinkie stood back on her hind legs and spread out her hoofs as if she was embracing the entire world. “We’re in El Catedral de el Cuidad de Bronxíco, the biggest Bronxican cathedral built in history!”

“Wait, we’re in Bronxico? How’d we get here?”

Pinkie went back to all-fours to give Twilight a face-full of her happy face. “We took the train, silly, straight to el ciudad! Ironically, it’s easier to smuggle bodies than cupcakes across the border.”

“And why did you chain me to the ground?”

“Uva felt like it was easier to talk to you like this.”

“Uva? As in Uva Pastel, the current president Uva?”

“¡Sí, y mi prima!”

“She could have invited me for tea or something instead of taking me hostage.”

“Don’t think of it as being a hostage. Think of it as the foundation for understanding a controversial topic.”

A lavender hoof pushed Pinkie’s head out of the way. It was replaced by a grape purple pony, smiling similar to Pinkie Pie, that was dressed to rule a country. “Welcome to mi nación modesto, Princesa Twilgiht Sparkle. How are you enjoying your stay?”

“You must be Uva Pastel.”

Uva gave a curtsy over Twilight. “Glad to make your acquaintance. Is there anything I can do to make you’re visit más placentero? Frutas o café? How about olives, do olives sound bueno?”

The previously fruity air turned sour as Twilight contemplated the taste of olives. “I would like to be unchained, if that wouldn’t be much trouble.”

“Venga, that’s an excellent request that, unfortunamente, I can’t fulfil.”

“And why not?”

“Isn’t it obvioso? I need you for an evil plot.”

“And what would that be?”

Uva’s smile twisted into a grin that only appears on the scheming type of ponies when they talk about evil plots. “It’s quite simple. You’re a pony in power. I need ponies in power. But alas, I only have so much coin to slip under la mesa.”

“Well, joke’s on you! I’m not going to take a bribe from kidnappers!”

“I wasn’t going to bribe you.”

“Then why am I here?”

“Why chiquita, you’re here to be…” Uva flung her forelegs into the air, but stopped in mid fling. She dropped her grin as her face scrunched up as she tried to figure a way past a language barrier.

“Head cleaning? No… Pinkie, ¿Cómo se dice ‘lavar el cerebro’? ¿No es head cleaning, sí?”

“Creo que hables sobre ‘brainwashing’.”

“Gracias.” She flung her arms back into the air as her face contorted for an evil laugh.

“Brainwashing!” Her cackle was punctuated by a crack of thunder outside in the clear sky.

“And what is this all for?”

“¡Aye, los equestriaños y su exposición! ¿Por qué hágalo? Pinkie, tell her!”

Pinkie’s face took back Twilight’s field of vision. “She’s planning to take over the world! It’s her birthright! Apparently…”

Uva pushed back Pinkie to retake her position over Twilight. “I had enough of these elections. Have you ever heard of a president ruling a world? Of course you haven’t! It’s always a king or a queen! And Bronxíco has the world’s first queen, right here, chiquita!”

Twilight thrashed at her, but the shackles restrained her against the ground. “You’ll fail, Uva! Celestia will stop you!”

“Chiquita, come on. Who do you think if funding my operation? Pinkie, bring in the ferret!”

The Bronxican president slid out of Twilight’s sight. In her place, a pair of pink hooves holding a ferret in a sombrero slid into view. The ferret fell as the pink hooves let go, landing on top of Twilight’s face.

The ferret greeted Twilight by sniffing her facial features, taking note of anything that seemed to have a prudent odor. “What’s the ferret for?”

The ferret stood on its hind legs and looked Twilight dead in the eye. “What’s the ferret for, señora asks.” Its paw skimmed the brim of its sombrero. “Señora, soy el… The Ferret! What is there to question?”

She continued to stare at the lengthy rodent scurrying across her face. “Again, what’s the fe-aaaaahh” –

The ferret kicked a paw into her mouth, keeping it from closing and finishing her sentence. “Silencio. Señora talks too much! I must work. Señora will be my clay to work with.”

“Get off me you little rat! I am not going to be” –

The ferret started kneading her forehead “I’ll mold my clay into whatever pleases me. Señora doesn’t like her veggies? I’ll make her the veggi queen! Señora avoids the color yellow everywhere she goes? Her one true love will be the color of yellow! Silencio ahora!”

“Listen you little weasel, if you don’t” -

-WHACK-

Two weeks later…

The Royal Dining Room of Canterlot Castle was fully set. Maids and waiters floated around, touching up anything that would otherwise offend royalty if it wasn’t properly tweaked. One particular waiter was pushing a cart filled to the brim with foods of all kinds. He parked the cart by the far end of the main table, where he began to place trays of cuisine for the current masters of the hall.

“Thank you.” Princess Celestia’s magic embraced a small platter of vegetables and began plucking them off into her mouth.

“Celestia, have you ever been to Bronxico?” Twilight threw a grape into her mouth as she looked over the itinerary she made for the special guest of the day. “I’ve always wanted to go, but never had the time.”

Celestia swallowed the meal contents she had partook in. “I haven’t had a chance to visit after they shifted to democracy. But when I was there, it was a wonderful experience. They’re a rather festive folk. They even know how to make a funeral a celebration.”

“I’m half tempted to visit if somepony dies over there, in that case. How does this sound? Bienvenido y buenos tardes. ¿Cómo está?”

Celestia slurped down a noodle in response. “That sounds almost perfect. You may want to put emphasis on the accents when you say it. And you only say tarde in the afternoon. You should say buenos días, since we’re meeting her in the… morning.”

“Is something wrong?”

“We’re meeting her in the morning, but it’s almost noon.”

Twilight looked around at her surroundings. She knew that if their guest arrived now, she would be directed into the dining room, where two Equestrian princesses were scarfing down on a late breakfast. She mentally calculated how fast a messenger could redirect the guest while the princesses got cleaned up and meet her in the throne room. If she sent the messenger now, he may be able to meet up with her in the entrance, where-

A pair of royal guards pushed open the large doors that were the main entrance to the dining room. “We present to the Princesses of Equestria, Uva Pastel, Presidente of Bronxico.”

A grape purple mare walked past the guards with her nose held high. The guards closed the door behind her as she made her way to the table.

Celestia was the first to stand to greet the guest. “Welcome to Canterlot Castle, ma’am.”

Twilight follow suit, but put in her own flare to her greeting. “Bienvenido y buenos días. ¿Cómo está?”

“Bien, bien, gracias. I thank you both for playing host for my charity tour for Equestria.”

Celestia pulled out a seat for the presidente’s posterior. “We couldn’t be any happier to have you in our kingdom. Tell me, what progress has been made in your country from this charity?”

“Pues, we have managed to make some of the ciudades near the border profitable for the first time since the revolution. Pero, other progress has been slow, though.” She took her seat at the table and directed her attention to Twilight. “I’m rather interested about the new alicorn princess of Equestria. How has your journey been going from rags to riches?”

“It wasn’t a story of rags to riches as much as it was a journey of friendship. Why don’t you dig in, we have plenty of food to go around.”

“Oh, I would, but I had desayuno before arriving. But…” She gave Twilight a sly look. “I wouldn’t mind having a small plato of green olives. You wouldn’t happen to have any olives around, would you?”

Twilight’s eyes widened at the mere word of olives. “Olives? Of course we have olives. Waiter! We must have olives! Bring them in by the barrel! In fact…”

Twilight jumped on the table, almost taking the table down with her weight. “I want you to bring in an entire grove of olive trees! We can’t have enough olives! I don’t care how much it costs! Just bring them in!”

Celestia scooted into earshot of Uva. “I don’t know what it is, but she’s been obsessed with olives recently. Her obsession’s been creeping me out. It’s like she’s been brainwashed.”

Uva’s mouth curled at the corners as she watched the crazed alicorn demand the tiny fruits by the boatload. “I think she’ll curb that enthusiasm into more practical uses. Don’t worry. Olive’em do at some point.”

Author's Note

Written for the Equestria Daily Writer's Training Grounds #003 for "Pinkie Apple Pie". Criticisms encouraged!

Party of Flux

Party of Flux
By A Random Guy

Flux was in a rather chipper mood this morning. Her head bobbed to an imaginary beat as she walked into her kitchen. She made herself a bowl of cereal, ready to get a head start on the day with Apple Oats, the taste everypony loves! Morning sunlight from the window poured over the cereal, which the cheerful pony complimented by pouring in some milk as well.

With spoonfuls of oats being eaten, Flux reminded herself to thank her boss next time she came into work. Sure, she dropped at least a thousand thank-yous before she left work, and written at least twenty notes that expressed her gratitude, but given the rare occasions that her boss gave her vacation days, it was even rarer that Flux was able to spend time with her daughter on special days.

She looked up to the wall to remind herself how special of a day it was. A chain of paper letters that spelt out “Happy Cute-ceañera” hung from wall pegs she feverishly put up the night before. Flux still couldn’t believe the day had come.

Granted, she was rather shocked with what her daughter’s cutie mark turned out to be. Her daughter, River Flow, was a special case for magical talents. She never had an obvious talent growing up. In fact, River Flow was starting to go full-blown question mode about why her classmates had cutie marks but she didn’t. But after an incident with a toilet in a high end restaurant, her destiny magically appeared on her flank, in the form of a plunger.

The party store sold all kinds of decorations for any cutie mark, from sports piñatas to candy balloons to even plastic bone tableware, the latter being for future chiropractors. They even offered custom decorations for unique cutie marks. But when Flux asked about plunger decorations, the store manager strategically led her to the generic party aisle.

Even if the party wasn’t going to be adorned with janitorial equipment, River Flow was still ecstatic about her cutie mark, and that her mother was going to be there spending time with her. Flux was ecstatic as well, for once since the dawn of time, literally depending on how you look at it, she could take part in her daughter’s life.

Then she felt the tingle. The tingle always started behind her shoulder blades, where a pegasus’s wings would connect to her body. She froze up. Flux knew her day was ruined, since she never got the tingle unless she was being called into work. She began shoveling her cereal into her mouth in the hope that eating a balanced breakfast would, in the off chance, make the tingle go away.

But the tingle process continued. Thin beams of light arced out from where the tingle originated. As Flux was engulfed in luminescence, the spoon continued to shovel cereal at a dangerous rate, splashing milk and oats across her face.

As the light beams grew to full length, they began to bend towards each other. The ends made connections and bent inwards, making two heart shapes on either side of Flux. The last oats disappeared as she hastened her shoveling.

The tingling reached its final stages. Flux ran out of cereal and began shoveling blobs of milk against her mouth. Magical particles began to appear from the aether. They filled the light beam hearts to form a thin, transparent film. Flux tried to outpace the tingling with her shoveling, but to no avail.

The film had completely filled up the light beam hearts. The room was engulfed with a bright white flash, and then returned to normal. Flux dropped the spoon in utter defeat. The tingling had stopped. Her face dripped with splattered milk. She turned her head in hopes that she just had a mental break down.

But no, her mental facilities were just fine, though her emotional facilities were questionable. Located right behind her shoulder blades, she had been given a pair of translucent, magical, company appointed butterfly wings.

Flux face-planted into the bowl. The milk bubbled and boiled as it repressed the sound of her scream.

Reality as we know it is a mixture of space and time. Space is composed of multiple dimensions, being which the space around us, space around other people, space of people of different probabilities, space around people of different realities, so on and so forth. Time, being all so special, gets its own dimension right between the space around other people and the space of people of different probabilities. Cheeky time. All of these dimensions merge together to form what everyone calls everything.

Flux’s boss resides in the void between the space of people of different probabilities and the space around people of different realities, collectively referred to as the multiverse void.

Flux’s wings, being company appointed, could be used to fly through the void to enter different universes. Fortunately for Flux, her wings were equipped with the reality-altering version of GPS, so she never needed to know how to get somewhere, only to know that she just needed to be there. They also came with a 9th dimensional cup holder. She didn’t know how it worked in the slightest, but used it on a regular basis anyways.

Flux’s wings flew her to her boss’s office within the multiverse void. Even during her bad days, she was always awed by the splendor of her boss’s venue. There weren’t any walls, floors, ceilings, or anything a conventional home. Instead, the images of other universes were projected as a multidimensional mural.

Nebulas and constellations arced way above her head as she waited for her boss to appear. The gasses of a sun below her were being peeled away and sucked into the bottomless stomach of a black hole. Off to the side, a trio of galaxies were colliding into each other. An enormous volume of their stars were flung off into the emptiness of space as the gravitational pull of the galaxies sling-shotted themselves into each other.

It was an average Saturday on the job.

The void around Flux began to ripple from a central point in front of her. Space twisted and contorted as a shape formed from the point. Nebulas, stars, black holes, and galaxies filled the shape as it formed. A pony face with the height of several solar systems emerged from the shape. “Good morning, Flux,” the face bellowed. Each of its constantans was punctuated by a flash of light.

Flux put on her best smile for her boss. “Good morning, Galactica. So, what do you need that’s so important that you pulled me out of my vacation?”

Flux covered her eyes as Galactica began to glow. “Last night, I was watching a small planet populated with civilized weasels when something occurred to me. These weasels undergo social interaction on a daily basis, but as of late I’ve only been able to socialize with few mortals such as you.

“As a being that has lived trillions of trillions of years, I hardly require social interaction at all. Yet, I still need an encounter every few billion years. I require you to help me in this endeavor.”

Reality slit open next to Flux. A pile of stylized envelopes spilled into the void from the slit. As she picked up an envelope, the slit closed and reality returned to its previous state. She looked at the front of the envelope and read the large gilded letters. “To Titan, from Galactica.”

“The pile of envelopes before you is a set of invitations. On each invitation is the name of a god. I want you to go to each god to deliver their invitation and tell them that they are to come to my party.”

“Your party? You pulled me out of my vacation so you could use me to send invitations to a party?”

“Gods have parties all of the time, so I am told.”

Flux threw the envelope back into the pile. The envelope blew through the pile and drifted off into space. “I was using my vacation for something special. Can’t I send the invitations when I get back?”

“Is a party for the gods not special enough for you?”

“Well, it’s my daughter’s Cute-ceañera today. I was hoping to spend the day with her.” Flux’s face flashed as she was hit with an idea. “If you want to socialize through a party, why not come to the Cute-ceañera?”

Galactica shrugged “The event of a single mortal life does not interest me. Besides, I cannot if I wanted to. I already paid the deposit for the catering.”

Flux looked at the pile of envelopes that were floating though the void. She estimated that there were about a couple hundred invitations in the stack. She figured if she was fast enough, she could distribute them all and be back to the party just in time for her to cut a slice of cake for her daughter.

“Do I have a choice in the matter?”

The contorted space in front of her shook her head.

“Fine.” She turned to fly to her first destination, putting as much speed her butterfly wings could muster to get this over quickly.

Flux flew into the first universe, which at her vantage point from high above the limit of where pegasi fly, it didn’t look so different from her home universe. The mountain range with Canterlot was present, along with Canterlot. The train tracks that went off across the country were sprawled all over the place. Ponyville was situated right next to the Everfree Forest, which looked gloomy as ever.

The only notable difference was that there was an enormous tower jetting out of the forest where the old Everfree castle was supposed to be. The tip of the tower was about as high as she was flying at the moment. It stood like a giant black needle against the horizon. Its shadow ran across the Everfree and halfway towards Canterlot.

It just so happen to be the home of the first potential guest.

Flux assumed that if somepony was over-compensating that much, they should have a throne room at the top. She flapped her wings and glided for the tower.

As she got closer, she began to search for an entrance, which wasn’t hard since it seemed that every opening to the tower was burning with an ominous red light.

She tilted her wings to send herself into an orbit around the tower. Her wings almost failed when a sulfuric aroma sucker-punched her in the nose. It wouldn’t surprise Flux if the place was built on top of a volcano, or if it was a volcano of sorts itself.

She tilted into her orbit when she saw a hole at the top that wasn’t glowing. Her wings flattened out to bring her to a steady glide into the hole.

As she entered the hole, Flux tilted her wings up to slow herself to a hover. She ended up in the middle of a cavernous room. Little red bubbling pits covered the floor. Pillars made of bones stretched to the roof. In the center of the room, on top of a pedestal, a twisted black throne stood. On top of the cushion of the throne, a black alicorn sat in a regal pose.

The alicorn was about three times the size of what Celestia normally would be. His skin was pulled tight against his thick biceps. His entire body was covered in a plethora of scars and red stripes. The alicorn’s horn was at least a yard long. Flux couldn’t see his eyes, as they were covered by a pair of aviator glasses, but she assumed they would be red cat eyes or something similarly ridiculous.

The alicorn smirked when Flux entered his presence. “I am Gilgamesh Megadeath of Epicness! Savior of Equestria twenty times in a row! God of all the Alicorns! Husband of Luna, Trixie, Twilight, Rainbow Dash, and others! Have you come to please me, pretty butterfly lady?”

Flux pulled the first envelope out of the void. She checked the name written on it to make sure she didn’t make a mistake. “You wouldn’t happen to be Gary, would you?”

The alicorn opened his mouth to respond, but left it hanging as he thought about what Flux had just asked. He judged if revealing that his birth name wasn’t Gilgamesh Megadeath of Epicness and was, instead, Gary was worth a single letter. “What’s the letter about?”

“It’s an invitation, from Galactica.”

“Oooh! Oooh! Gimme!” Gary’s magic violently pulled the envelope from Flux’s grasp. He shredded the paper, leaving an intact parchment floating in front of his face. “I wonder if she wants to be my ninety seventh wife.” He began to read the letter aloud in his proudest and loudest voice.

“Dear Gary, I have decided to have a party in the multiverse void today. I feel as if the gods should have another grand time of festivities. We shall partake in party games and eat oceans of food. Cake shall have its own separate ocean that we will feast on. I have invited all gods aware of the multiverse and shall be expecting them to have a good time here. You, on the other hand, are not invited.”

Gary’s voice dropped a couple of octaves upon reading this. His smirk dropped from his face as he went on.

“Seeing as you are not a real god, I expect you to be well beyond exactly one hundred galaxies away from this party. I made sure you were the first for my messenger to visit, for I do not want you to see a real god coming and conclude that where ever he was going, you are supposed to go as well but the invitation was lost. I do not want you getting the wrong idea. Also, do me a favor and tell all your pfffseoodoh… psssadoo… pffswede-oh... P, s, e, u,”-

“That’s pseudo, pronounced ‘soodoh’. The p is silent.”

“Soodoh, thanks. Tell all your pseudo-god friends the same thing. I do not feel like wasting paper for writing the same message over and over again. Go fall in a hole. Sincerely… Galactica.”

Gary remained silent after finishing the letter. He left his mouth agape as he stared out into nothing. A couple of inaudible whines came from the back of his throat. His aviators slid off his face and shattered against the floor, revealing a pair of red cat-like eyes that were starting to water.

Flux began to fly out from the throne room. “I’m just… going to leave now.”

“She wants me,” the alicorn murmured, his voice cracking a bit. “They all want me.”

Flux decided to leave him on his own and continue on as a messenger.

Not all of her visits were alicorn gods, and after the first, none of them were pseudo-gods. Most took the form of a pony dressed up to embody whatever they represented as gods. The life god was an earth pony dressed in plants, the war god was a pegasus in armor, the squirrel god was an alicorn dressed in nuts, etc. All of them were extravagant, all of them spread all across the multiverse, all of them were a pain to fly to, and all of them showed a lack of interest in the party.

Flux’s next stop was a peculiar place. It was a warehouse in Manehatten in a universe not too far from where she started. The place looked rather odd for the domain of a god, that is to say it blended in with the surrounding urban environment. She knew it wasn’t the camouflage god, since she just spent a half hour trying to discern him from a pair of trees. (Turns out he wasn’t camouflaged. He left earlier to get a cup of coffee and came back seeing an angry Flux shoving an envelope into a tree.)

Flux entered the building figuring that it was bigger in the inside. It wasn’t, but it was full of couches. There were couches of all kinds, placed haphazardly all over the place. The walls were covered in posters warning about the dangers of goats. Floating in the center of the warehouse, there was a giant couch. The couch was made of a shiny fabric, but was completely torn up on its left side.

The cushions of the giant floating couch began to flop up and down. “WHO IS THIS THAT ENTERS?” a voice boomed throughout the warehouse.

Flux waved the envelope above her head. “I have an invitation to Galactica’s party, it’s addressed to the God of Couches. Would that be you?”

“YOU COME IN HERE AND OFFER AN INVITATION TO A PARTY?”

“Yeah. That’s the point of an invitation.”

“WELL, I REFUSE TO BE DEGRATED BY THE GODS OF A PONY.”

“I’ll take that as a no. I’ll be”-

“I RESUSE TO BE SAT UPON BY YOUR GODS. IT IS AN EMBARASSMENT FOR COUCH KIND! SOFAS, FEAST UPON HER!”

A herd of sofas jumped from the crowd at their leader’s command. Each targeted Flux as their prey, and pounced on the puny pony.

“Oh for Celestia’s sake”-

A sofa tackled her and pinned her to the floor. Its cushions engulfed Flux and clamped down hard on her. She heard a slurping noise, and then found herself floating in a void.

“Well, that happened.”

She mentally checked the God of Couches off the list, and flew out into the multiverse void.

After a few more hours of playing courier, Flux began to get an idea of how many gods there were. Not that much, to be honest. There were a couple hundred to be sure, but they were all spread out across the multiverse that their numbers seemed relatively small.

Despite the low number, Flux was rather surprised that the multiverse was lacking in a couple of gods. As she was flying around, she looked through the invitations that she had left to pass out. Two types of gods that she thought were guaranteed to be on the list were a time god and a messenger god, but they weren’t referred to on any letter. She was hoping for a time god just so she could make this process faster. The lack of a messenger god was a disappointment due to the fact he could be doing her job right now.

Of all the gods that were on the list, there was one god that had a “?” in his label. What was written on the envelope was “Dranorth, God of ?”, as if Galactica had absolutely no idea what his affiliation was. After a second look at the letter, she noticed that there was some fine print labeled on the bottom that read, “God of Electricity/Gravity?” Flux knew she would have to ask just so Galactica wouldn’t have this problem in the future.

She was going to ask soon, since her next stop was the universe the God of ? was residing in. When she flew out of the multiverse void, she entered a large empty room. It looked like the interior of a factory without all of the equipment. The walls, ceiling, and floor were made of a dull metal. Rows of lights lined steel support beams high above, holding the ceiling in place. The support beams aligned with the ribbing of the walls. The entire place seemed to have the dull hum of ghostly machinery.

The room clearly was devoid of any form of life, so Flux flew around looking to see if there was any way out. As she dipped down to see if there were any doors at ground level, she heard a groaning noise to her right. She looked over to see a panel on the side of the wall slide up to reveal a hallway behind it. Standing in the center of the hallway was the figure of a pony.

“Hey,” Flux called out to the pony figure. “I have a letter addressed to”-

She was interrupted by a strong pull in her gut. It was the kind of pull somepony would get if they were falling down at a high speed, which was exactly what Flux was doing at the moment. She tumbled as she watched the ground race towards her and braced herself just as she made contact.

Her left wing touched the ground first. It crumpled from the impact between the floor and the body that fell on top of it. She didn’t feel her butterfly wing get crushed under her own weight, but she did feel like a train had rammed her side when she hit the ground.

Flux tried to move the foreleg that didn’t hit the floor, but some force pulled it towards the ground, flipping her face up. She couldn’t turn her head and was forced to watch the ceiling.

Past the sound of her side throbbing in pain, Flux could hear hoofsteps walking on metal. It was a few moments before she could hear the hooves walk next to her ear before they stopped. Before, her vision was filled with the view of support beams lined with lights. Now it was filled with the view of a purple pony’s head looking straight down at her.

The pony was dressed relatively nicely. He wore a bowler’s cap and a black suit jacket. A black tie hung down from his neck, lightly tapping the side of Flux’s head as it slightly swung back and forth. His upper eyelids were halfway shut over a pair of cyan eyes. His mouth was curled down in slight disappointment.

Remembering what she was supposed to do, Flux cleared her throat. “I have an invitation for you, but I can’t pull it out if”-

The pull lifted from the hoof that wasn’t in utter pain. Flux pulled out the letter from the void, which was lifted from her hoof by the mysterious force that held her down. The pony read the back of the envelope, and opened it up to read the parchment inside.

He pointed a hoof at Flux, which began to arc lightning along his foreleg. “How did you get in here?” the pony asked as he glanced over the invitation.

Flux stared at the electrified hoof. The constant sparking made it hard to look at, but it didn’t make it look any less threatening of a gesture. “I flew in. That’s how I usually get around. I assume you’re Dranorth.”

The purple pony nodded, never breaking off from scrutinizing the floating letter or retracting his arcing limb. “How did you fly in? I bet it was through a dimension higher than the third, wasn’t it?” The hoof inched close to her face. She could feel an intense heat emitting from it.

“It was the ninth, actually.”

“Oh for Pete’s sake!” The hoof was redirected away from Flux’s face, and she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. But she flinched as a crumpled invitation hit her right between the eyes. Dranorth threw his head back in grief. “It was hard enough to shield this ship for seventh dimension travel, but now I have to worry about the ninth? That’s two extra dimensions I have to block out.” He rubbed his forehead has he tried to figure out what to do.

Meanwhile, Flux was still on the floor. She knew that she should ask about letting her get up, but this was still a question that was gnawing at her. “So, what are you a god of? God of Electricity? God of Gravity? God of Question marks? To be honest, you’re not dressed up to be any of them”

Dranorth ran his hoof down his face. “I’m not a god. I am a very powerful being that has apparently confused your god in some aspects.” He looked at the writing of the open envelope. “Galactica? I thought she wanted to kill me? Why is she inviting me to a- Oh… Right. Well, this is an obvious trap.”

“I think she just wants to have a party.”

“If that’s the case, I disrespectfully decline.” Flux flinched as a crumpled envelope hit her right between the eyes. “There’s a special needs kid named Gary. Give him the invite. Lord knows he needs friends.”

Dranorth turned around and walked away. Flux felt the pull release her. She flexed her limbs a bit, which weren’t hurting as much as before. She looked at Dranorth’s backside as he walked away and asked, “So, you’re the Introversion God?”

“Get off my ship,” Dranorth called back. He stopped walking for a moment to think. “And if I see you on my ship again, I’m punching you in the face.”

Flux, remembering she had something to finish up, gladly took his advice and flew out. As she flew through the multiverse void, she rechecked how many envelopes she had left to deliver. She gave up somewhere past fifty.

Public benches, historically, have been places where nothing significant happens. This is why they’ve become one of the most iconic symbols of multiverse media that no one has ever thought about. Nothing happens when ponies sit on them, so ponies have come to unconsciously associate them with somber moments.

Flux was having her somber moment on her bench in her backwater town in an unknown universe far away from home. She slumped along the back, her butterfly wings drooped over the back of the bench. She could only look at the final twenty seven invitations that sat in a pile in front of her.

Flux, having a job that required her to travel a lot, kept a pocket watch handy in the void to keep track of what time it was at home. In her haste to deliver all of the letters to their recipients, she had forgotten to check the time in her home universe. It was five minutes ago when she remembered to check.

The watch read 11:36 PM five minutes ago.

She thought of what happened in her home universe while she was gone. The party would have ended at seven. The cleanup of the part would have ended at eight. River Flow would have gone to bed by nine. The watch read 11:36 PM five minutes ago.

For those five minutes, Flux just stared at the twenty seven letters stacked in a pile in front of her. Twenty eight if you count the invitation Dranorth shoved in her face. She didn’t feel the need to do anything else than to just sit and stare at the twenty seven letters.

Unlike the masses, universes tend to be aware of the bench trope. The trope usually conflicts with the law of entropy, which states that a closed system can only lose energy. Since nothing happens around benches, energy isn’t lost or gained. Universes deal with this situation by either ignoring it or rectifying it. Some universes tend to do the rectifying method with a twisted sense of humor.

As Flux stared at her pile of letters, the Flux native to this universe just so happened to walk by the bench and sitting Flux. Flux, the multiverse traveler, was used to seeing herself in different universes, it came with the territory. Native Flux, however, wasn’t quite used to the sight, never having ventured beyond her hometown much herself. These encounters usually boil down to one-way excitement.

“Well that’s interesting,” Native Flux remarked. “We look exactly the same, except for the giant butterfly wings.”

Winged Flux broke her gaze with the pile of letters. “We are the same, just from different universes and other metaphysical stuff.”

Native Flux was slightly weirded out by Winged Flux’s comment. “Okay… different universes. Right. And is there a reason you’re moping on a bench?”

Winged Flux rubbed her temples. “I missed my daughter’s Cute-ceañera because my apathetic boss wanted me to be her errand girl.”

“Well, that bites. Why didn’t you say no?”

“Because my boss runs the plumbing of the multiverse and knows how to make my day miserable.”

“Well, you seem miserable now.” Native Flux tilted her head towards the pile of letters. “And staring at those doesn’t seem to help either.”

“Yeah, I should probably set them on fire and throw them at my boss’s face. It’ll be hard to miss that thing.”

“If you hate your boss so much, why not quit your job?”

“Other than paying bills, I have no clue.” Winged Flux rubbed a butterfly wing with a hoof. “The wings alone were enough to convince me to take the job. But I beginning to feel like flying through the multiverse isn’t worth it anymore.”

“I don’t think being a lab rat for experimental drugs is ever worth it to begin with.”

“Experimental drugs?”

“Yeah, that multiverse talk of yours makes you sound like you’re on some strong psychiatric stuff. You have the symptoms. Depression, altered perspective of reality, that kind of stuff.”

“You know what, I am.” Winged Flux jumped from her bench and shoved her face into Native Flux’s personal space. “I am currently doped up on prescribed narcotics. How else would I think that delivering letters for a boss I hate for a party that no one cares about is a good idea?”

Native Flux backed up as Winged Flux bore down on her. “Overreaction is also another symptom you may want to look into,” she quickly added as she tripped over onto the ground. Winged Flux flared her wings out.

“Here’s a question: would you like to partake in an experimental pharmaceutical trial?”

“I’m kind of one of those clean-body, clean-mind kind of ponies, so I think I’ll pass.”

“No choice.” Winged Flux grabbed her double, who yelled and fought back in response. Her butterfly wings gave a powerful flap, and the double pair shot into the air.

“AAAH! Putmedown! Putmedown!”

“Not until you see this.”

After gaining enough vertical distance, Winged Flux leaned back to level off in the sky. She flipped herself right-side up as her butterfly wings pushed her through the air. The wind howled as the duo cut through the atmosphere.

In the next moment, a casual observer on the ground would have said that the double vanished in the air they glided through, unaware of the marvelous event that was really happening.

The duo flew out of the universe.

Native Flux was mentally rebooting. In one moment, she was trying to break out of her captor’s hold while thousands of feet in the air. The next moment there was no air, or wind, or any ground to speak of. In fact, there wasn’t any world to speak of at all. There was only the multiverse void, and it was spellbinding.

The reflections of celestial events played out in the void. Supernovas seemingly collided only to pass through each other. Galaxies tore through each other as they clashed together left nearby nebulas alone and intact. Planets orbited black holes, but avoided their gravitational pull in favor of the suns hidden by the lifeless giants.

Native Flux could only grasp a handful of the projections that flew by her. Each projection seemed close and cluttered yet far and grand at the same time. Blasts of gamma radiation and planet sized asteroids passed through her yet left her unscathed, for this was the nature of the multiverse void. It only showed the events of the universes, but never held them, for it could not. It could only view them with seething jealously.

“What prescription did you say you were taking?”

“Bad-Boss pills. They ran out of placeboes.”

“They must be popular on the black market. This place is amazing!”

“Just wait till you meet the inhabitants.”

Winged Flux tilted into a collapsing sun. She flew into the abyss that was being drilled through the center. Darkness overtook the duo as they pushed deeper into the dying gas giant.

Winged Flux squeezed her passenger closer to herself. “Hang on.”

Native Flux didn’t know what to expect when her double said “Hang on”. She especially didn’t expect flying back into reality and getting hit in the face by a wall of air. It took her a second to readjust to the new lighting. When she did, she didn’t expect to see herself hurtling towards a wall at break-neck speeds.

Before Native Flux had a chance to react, the butterfly wings sprung out, getting caught by the resistance of the atmosphere. She felt her insides slam forward as the duo decelerated to an utter stop.

“Where are we?” The captive analyzed her surroundings and determined that they were in some kind of metal chamber. Mounds of metal were arranged in semi-circles that went behind a steel tower in the middle of the room. Each mound had a glowing rectangle engraved into it that displayed multicolored bars and patterns.

Directly under the duo, sitting in a chair in between two semi-circle mounds was a purple pony with a bowler’s cap and a back suit jacket. He was leaning back against the mound behind him with his legs propped up on the mound in front of him. A paddle ball that floated next to his head was whacking a ball that kept bouncing back.

Winged Flux pointed a hoof at the pony below, holding her other hoof tight against her passenger. “See that guy? I have to deal with ponies like him that would rather maim me than say ‘no thank you’ to a party invitation.”

The purple pony below them looked up to see the sight of two clones floating in midair. “Are you talking about me? I feel like this is a conversation I need to be involved in.”

“He pinned me to the ground, and when he started asking questions, he decided waving lightning around my face instead of asking politely like any other pony would.”

The pony shrugged. “I found a random person in the cargo hold of a heavily shielded ship. What did you think I would do?”

“I was actually hoping you would be a messenger god just so you could do my job for me, but seeing as you’re not a real god, I don’t really expect much from you.”

The pony raised an eyebrow at the comment, and then looked at Native Flux. “You wouldn’t happen to be a victim of whatever crime ring she’s hosting, would ya?”

“No, just waiting for the pills to wear off.”

“And that phrase will get you incarcerated in America. Speaking of skewed justice…” He knocked the paddle’s ball from its rhythmic bouncing with a poke from a hoof. “Little Miss Butterfly Wings, didn’t I threaten you if you entered my ship again?”

“You did, but you’re going to need a very large bug zapper to knock this butterfly out”- Winged Flux yelped as she dropped enough to dodge a lightning bolt. “Time to go, Flux.”

Dranorth watched as the double pair flew out into the multiverse void. “Dang, missed her face.”

The next location seemed more surreal to Native Flux, but seemed significantly safer than the previous area. When the duo first flew into the next universe, all they could see was couches. She tried to determine how many couches there were, but was interrupted by a dropping sensation. A comfy sofa below her cushioned her face-plant.

As she righted herself up against a fluffy pillow, Winged Flux drifted downwards onto the seat next to her companion. She rested her eyes as she leaned back on the sofa.

“So, what’s so special about this place?”

“It’s a show-don’t-tell experience. Plus I need a rest, you were getting heavy.”

“So, are we done complaining about your boss?”

Winged Flux shoved a hoof against her double’s mouth. “Shhh. No talking. Only resting. It’ll only take a minute.”

Flux obeyed her double and leaned back along with her, giving the chance to thoroughly analyze the area they were in. She couldn’t see how large the place was since her view was surrounded by couches. The place had a high roof with greasy windows lining the top of the walls. Beyond the windows she could hear the sound of traffic and crowds. What little of the walls she could see was covered in propaganda targeted against goats. Other than that, her vision was filled with the fabric of the sofa in front of her.

Somewhere in the distance of the warehouse, a growling sound echoed through the building.

“Something doesn’t sound like it knows quiet time.”

“I guess my minute is up then.”

The growling grew louder, and was soon accompanied by hissing as well.

“Can we leave now? I think something wants us to leave.”

“Sure. But we’re leaving through an unconventional way.”

“Aren’t butterfly wings an unconventional way- AAH!”

Native Flux was interrupted as her body folded from being pulled in between the cushions. The next thing she heard was a slurping sound, and then she was floating through a void.

“What just happened?”

“Something abstract. That was weirder the second time round.”

“Second time?”

“Next universe!”

The first thing that hit Native Flux was a breath-full of sulfuric air. With such a pungent sent, she was expecting this universe to be in the interior of a giant turtle’s intestines or something similarly outlandish. But thorough disappointment had set in when she discovered that it was only an evil volcanic lair. They lose their shock appeal when you have one as a summer home.

This particular volcanic summer home had a giant obsidian throne in the center, but had no giant obsidian gluteus maximus sitting in it.

The throne, however, was supporting the torso of a black and red alicorn that was slumped on his belly with legs in the air and eyes reading a book on the floor.

“Oh, this is a pain,” the alicorn muttered. “I already used admire. Yearning and lust got old fast. Intense affection is a bit long. Oh, Twilight, what else could I use to describe your undying love for me?”

Native Flux dropped to the floor as Winged Flux’s hooves became occupied with throwing around meaningless gestures. “This is the epitome of what my boss expects me to deal with! I’m supposed to show respect, no, praise, for all of these deranged ponies dressed in trash. Why should I show praise for gods that degrade themselves like this?”

Her outburst drew Gary’s attention from his masterpiece to the duo that appeared in the middle of his chamber. “Well, look, it’s the pretty butterfly lady. Did you come back to give me a present and set it on fire?”

The Flux on the floor answered for the Flux in the air. “Don’t mind her. She’s been in an inconsistent rant for the past couple of universes.”

“That shouldn’t excuse her from writing mean notes.”

“Hey, my boss wrote that. If you have complaints, we have a hotline for that. It’s called ‘praying to a greater power.’”

Native Flux looked up at her double. “I tried that hotline before. I think the operator still has me on hold for that call.”

“We’re understaffed. We’re just getting started with the complaints from the Middle Ages.”

“Well tell your boss,” Gary said as he flipped over from his awkward slouching position and teleported in front of the duo through a dark smoke cloud, “that she has a bad view of shadow gods.”

“She said pseudo-gods.”

“Well, she has a pseudo-view of them. Us pseudo-gods demand the same pseudo respect that non-pseudo gods get, and that means going to any pseudo-party we want.” He stamped his hoof down to solidify his position.

“Pseudo means fake, by the way.”

Gary’s eyes went wide as he thought about this new meaning of the word. “She called me… fake?”

His weight hit the floor as his knees buckled from this new revelation. “But I’m Gilgamesh Megadeath of Epicness, Savior of Equestria. I-I can’t be fake. I just can’t…”

Winged Flux drifted down to pick up her companion. “Trust me. It gets sad from this point.”

As she embraced Native Flux for takeoff, Gary latched onto her double’s forelegs. “She wants me,” the alicorn murmured, his voice cracking a bit. “They all want me.”

Gary’s grasp emptied as the duo flew off into the next universe, setting their position on the matter as an affirmative “no”.

Contrary to popular belief, traveling through the multiverse is an extremely common practice. The opposite is only a popular belief because nobody from the multiverse stops by for gas and coffee. Who could blame them? Other universes already brewed the perfect coffee eons ago, and decaf is still a relatively new concept in our neck of the woods.

Despite being more common than believed, multiverse travel is a rather lonely endeavor. The multiverse void is absolutely infinite, and though it is filled to the brim with infinite universes, the vast amount of empty space is infinite as well. Surprisingly, the statistical probability that one were to encounter another traveler in the void is about one to nine trillion. Although it’s a slim chance, it’s still significantly more probable than one to infinity.

Native Flux, unaware of any of this, wouldn’t have cared if she knew. At this point, she only cared about where her double was taking her, which at this point, seemed to be anywhere she could complain about slightly. They did only visit three places, but she was starting to get the pattern.

As an exploding star passed through her, Native Flux’s curiosity got a hold of her. “So, what’s the next stop? Is it a world ruled by a tyrannical god?”

Winged Flux only stared into the void.

“Okay, no tyranny. Is it a post-apocalyptic world? I have a feeling there’s a bunch of those.”

She flew through a fractured planet, oblivious to the inquiries.

“Here’s a wild guess. The next world will have a sub-population of sociopaths that secretly murder their friends and turn them into pastries. How close am I?”

The last one got Winged Flux’s attention. “Those are some dark ideas you got there.”

The passenger shrugged. “Friends make me hungry.”

“Well… We’re not going to any place like that. In fact, we’re not leaving the void.”

“I would prefer it if I went home.”

“Do you know why I flew you out here?”

“Because it’s a place where no one can hear the screams?”

“It’s because you’re my double. You can understand me best out of anyone in the multiverse.”

Native Flux gazed around at the surrounding void. “I’m still trying to understand how I can hallucinate all of this and still maintain coherent thoughts.”

“Out of everybody I know, you can understand best how horrible my boss is.”

“And why do you need me to understand?”

“Because she’s an inconsiderate jerk who forces me to miss my kid’s childhood!”

“Your kid will grow up fine. She doesn’t need parents breathing down her neck at every moment of her life.”

“She’s growing up while I’m not there! She’s going to grow up without a mom because my boss cares about nothing but herself. You wouldn’t understand.”

“You want me to understand. You don’t want me to understand. Which is it? At least let me understand how long it’ll this flight will take.”

“We should be there after I take the next right.”

Directions in the multiverse void are completely useless unless there are perspectives. Something simple such as “taking a right” needs to be accompanied with a point of reference, proximity to planes of existence, your velocity compared to said plane of existence, and how many fast food chains you saw on your way over.

Winged Flux didn’t bother to pass on this information to her passenger, so Native Flux had no point of reference to determine if they had taken a right. The only way she could tell that they reached their destination at all was when a green mailbox marked “Galactica” flew over past their left. The multiverse may be infinitely empty, but its residents do have an efficient postal system.

“So, now that we’re here, what are you going to do?” Native Flux asked as they floated over a welcome mat that drifted past in the void.

“I’m going to give her a piece of my mind. I am going to go up to her and demand to be treated with respect, and I am going to demand that she manipulate time to get me to River’s party in time!”

“Wait, if she can change time, why couldn’t you ask her to do that for you after you did your job instead of abduct me”

“She’s one of those people that think messing with time will destroy everything. And if it does, I’ll still be spending time with River, and that’s all that matters!”

“You’re willing to destroy time and space for your kid. Nice. So, where’s this god boss of- Oh my Celestia!”

Native Flux was expecting an alicorn with a gaudy coloring scheme to be the boss. She wasn’t expecting the void to contort into a giant face. Floating in front of her was the largest pony head she had ever seen. The mouth was so big it looked like it ate suns for nourishment.

The voice that came out of the enormous mouth had the volume of several planets colliding with each other, yet was graceful enough that it didn’t blow out Native Flux’s eardrums. “Flux, welcome back. I see you have brought a friend for the festivities. Which of the gods declared they were coming?”

“To start off, the squirrel god said no, so did the nature god. The bagel god was too busy eating donuts. The unemployment god had to go to a job interview. Now that I think of it, everybody impolitely declined.”

“Nobody said they were coming?”

“No. And you shouldn’t be surprised why. You’re an inconsiderate jerk who only thinks of herself! You take advantage of every pony you meet. You put in minimal effort while you expect everybody else to do everything for you! You…”

Winged Flux continued to rant, but Galactica didn’t appear to be listening. For the first time, Native Flux bothered to look anywhere but at the giant space face. She noticed that tables were spread out across the void in an elegant manner. Each was covered in cloth and dinnerware necessary for any party. There was even a very long table with a buffet set up for the pickings.

She also noticed that at each table had an empty seat. At each seat was a little paper sign with the name of a particular god. Galactica’s attention seemed to be bouncing between every empty seat, occasionally glancing towards the long table where the food was reaching room temperature.

“… You don’t even consider if we have families! I have a family! In fact, I have a daughter whose party I missed just so I can tell a bunch of stuck-up gods about another party they don’t care about! I want, no, need to go to my daughter’s party, so you better use your time magic or something to get me there or I’m getting my union involved in this!”

A moment of silence settled in as Flux finished her rant and Galactica continued to look at all of the empty chairs. “What about Dranorth? Is he coming?” Galactica asked.

“No. I don’t think he wants to attend a party that’s being hosted by someone who apparently tried to kill him.”

“How disappointing, I was hoping he would come so I could apologize for that.”

“And that’s another thing. You have history of doing things to other ponies and expecting them to forget about it.”

“What about the God of Couches. I was hoping I could meet someone new.”

“Are you even listening to me?”

Native Flux was growing tired of the conversation and directed her attention to other places. What grabbed her attention was a bit of space slightly below her and off to the distance from her left. A nebula cloud seemed to be getting sucked into a single point inside itself. The cloud was contracting inward, compressing itself into a smaller and smaller ball. Then it exploded.

It was a rather odd explosion for a projection in the multiverse void, mostly because it didn’t seem to be a projection, and because it was actually doing something other than sitting and looking pretty. The explosion rolled through the tables at the far end of the party setup, sending tables flying. Galactica and her employee didn’t even bother to look at the party crasher, and Native Flux’s view of it was blocked by a table soaring right at her face.

She kicked off from Winged Flux, sending them flying in opposite directions as the table flew right between them. Winged Flux stopped herself from drifting away with a few flaps from her butterfly wings. Native Flux stopped drifting when another table corner nicked her in her left side with enough force to stop her. The force wasn’t pleasant for her pain receptors.

As the explosion cleared up, a massive metal square hulk emerged from where the nebula cloud used to be. Its chrome surface wasn’t as massive as Galactica, but was still large enough to have a major city grow off of it.

Among the tables flying from the steel hulk, Winged Flux could make out blue streak shooting through the carnage. She didn’t worry about it until it changed direction, towards her.

Before she could move out of the way, the blue steak engulfed her in a torrent of electricity. She didn’t have time to react to the shock before something hard rammed into her, sending her spiraling through the void.

Flux, having a pair of company appointed butterfly wings, had a personal magical shield that blocked all damage to her being. That’s not to say her nerves couldn’t feeling anything, and if they could talk, they would say it felt like a truck that was pushed off a skyscraper fell on top of her.

Despite the pain, Flux’s wings flared out from pure reflex in mid spiral, decelerating her and leveling her off with what collided with her. Floating in the void in her place was a purple pony wearing a black bowler’s cap, a jacket, a tie that drifted around its tether, and a demeanor that was crossed between sleepy and ticked off.

Galactica was the first to recover from the explosive event. “Dranorth! Welcome! I am glad that you came! Grab a seat and enjoy the buffet.” She remained oblivious to the buffet that was now scattered and drifting through her face.

“Galactica, I expect your messengers to have better manners. They shouldn’t be boarding ships without permission.” He swung a hoof towards Winged Flux, who was having trouble moving without her body cringing in pain. “They’ll end up getting punched in the face some day.”

“I do apologize for my employee’s rudeness. I assure you she will not ruin your time at my party.”

“Party?” He looked around at the remains of the tables, which were floating off into the distance of the multiverse void. “Oh. If this was the party, then this must be the trap I parked into.”

“I am not aware of any trap. Please elaborate.”

“You know, a trap to capture me and do what you please, or something along those lines. I lived long enough to know that people like to try to kill me at parties. Why else would you invite me?”

“I invited you so I can apologize for trying to kill you before.”

“Oh.”

“So, do you accept?”

“Accept what?”

“Do you accept my apology?”

Dranorth rubbed his chin as he contemplated what Galactica was saying. “I will, but under one condition.”

Galactica’s solar-system eyes lit up with glee. “What is it you ask of?”

He pointed towards the giant metal hulk of a ship. “You need to invite him.”

When the females of the group turned to look at what he was pointing at, which was a comically oversized black and red alicorn that was slowly flying towards the conversation, they all exclaimed in different tones depending on their attitude towards the pseudo-god, “Gary?!”

“Hi,” he called. The glee in Galactica’s eyes snuffed out.

“I picked him up on the way here. You have to invite him to your party, no exceptions.”

“But he’s a mockery to the sanctity of divinity.”

“Divinity didn’t have sanctity to begin with. Case in point, me.”

“He’s still a mockery.”

“Don’t say that.” Dranorth gave Gary a pat on the head as he flew next to him. “He may be special needs, but he’s a god in your book if you thought I was one as well.”

Gary looked at Dranorth with disapproval. “Dude, I’m not special needs.”

“You know I read your file. You banished your psychiatrist to the depths of the timeout corner when he said you needed help.”

“He was extremely biased.”

“You spent a week trying to find a timeout corner in a tower with only circular rooms. That’s a textbook example of a special-needs deity.”

Galactica interrupted with her own input. “Well, special needs or not, I can’t invite him now. You crashed through the party and now we have nothing to party with.”

Native Flux added her own input as well. “Miss Pretty Butterfly over there has a daughter who had a Cute-señera today. We just need to do a little time-traveling and we can arrive just in time.”

“But that involves time-traveling,” Galactica argued. “If a god were to travel, he may disrupt the balance of the multiverse. And we have two gods”- Dranorth coughed loudly –“Three gods. Not even I know what will happen when three gods attempt time-travel.”

“Actually,” Dranorth started, “as long as we don’t meet ourselves we should stay under the legal limit of multiverse disasters. And a kid’s party sounds more fun that whatever you had planned.”

Gary jumped up with excitement. “Does that mean I can eat cake and ice-cream?” he asked Winged Flux.

She seethed through her teeth as she rubbed her shoulder. “Yeah, and piñatas and other stuff.” Gary jumped further in excitement. “But I haven’t agreed to you all coming to the party.”

Gary provided the excuse. “God’s will, divine right, all that heavenly blessing stuff that says we don’t need an agreement. Why are we still here? There’s ice-cream and cake at a party we need to have attended in the past!”

Time travel has been one of the most controversial subjects in the history of the multiverse. It’s so controversial that a small quiet debate on the subject has led to past wars on multiple occasions. In order to avoid getting their great grandfathers enlisted in a great grandson’s war, most governments have banned the discussion of the topic altogether.

Gods, however, are exempted from this rule since they’re gods, and they don’t give a flippity bulge about government rules.

Galactica used her god status to indulge the group in a bit of time-travel just to make it to a filly’s Cute-señera party. Some critics would argue that this is a blatant misuse of the time-altering ability. They would also protest against the theory of evolution after being swiftly selected as the weakest and mysteriously eliminated from the gene pool. Gods do what gods do.

And these gods know how to party at a filly’s party. Gary was trying to seduce several mothers that he thought were single, only to be pushed back by both male and female spouses. One particular mare managed to shove his aviator glasses down his throat along with the piece of cake he was eating. Despite that, he had to leave the party because his bedtime was coming up in his home universe.

Dranorth was playing Pin the Tail on the Pony with the fillies and colts of the party. He managed to get close to the target, only to let the center of the party, River Flow, beat him by an inch. He acted disappointed, only to be comforted by River by saying he might win hitting the piñata. Dranorth almost beat the thing to death, but let River be the one to finish it off.

Galactica was having a metaphysical conversation with some of the parents. Being a face several solar systems high that contorted space instead of having an actual physical appearance, she disorientated the parents as they thought they were talking to the air.

The God of Couches would later tell Galactica that he couldn’t make it due to goat problems.

Flux was just glad she could be with her daughter at her party, even if it meant she had to bring some associates with her. But even at home, she had to work as a parent. She stood in the kitchen, prepping the cake for consumption. Her universe double sat on the sidelines, helping her in any way she can.

Native Flux, now Foreign Flux in this context, passed the icing as Winged Flux, now Native Flux and wingless, put the candles on the nearly finished product. “That was pretty nice of your boss to do this. She may not be that bad of a person after all.”

Native Flux scoffed as she carefully inserted each candle in the frosting. “She did it after some manipulation from an outside force. She’s still inconsiderate.”

“I was wondering, since she’s your boss, what is your job.”

“Oh, I fix toilets.”

“Toilets?”

“Yeah, they’re not regular toilets. I have to go around and fix toilets that have broken the continuity of space-time and stuff like that. It’s a nasty job, but pays well.”

“So then River’s plunger cutie mark…”

“She fixed a solar storm in a urinal. The pony that went really had to go.”

“So you would know what Galactica was talking about when she said something about the dangers of gods time-traveling?”

“It was just an attempt to get out of the party. She’s extremely introverted. I’m not going to worry about it.”

Just to spite her for time-traveling, the universe sent a giant tatzlwurm to devour the entire party. No one but the gods attending survived.

The End

Author's Note

Written for the EQD Writers Training Grounds #4 for "Rainbow Falls". The prompt was used, but it wasn't submitted. Mostly because this is double the prompt word limit. To date, this is my longest work written in my life. Not exaggerating there, but I expect I'll eventually write longer.

Chaotic Plumbing

Chaotic Plumbing
By A Random Guy
Warning: Fuel for dirty minds. Innocent minds shall be left unharmed.

Rainbow Dash wasn’t a plumber by trade, nor did she think she needed plumbing skills since she lived in a cloud house. Her skillset pertained more within the realms of racing and sleeping. However, she did have a knack for knowing when a problem with her plumbing was going on, for she lived in the cloud house long enough that she could sense when something was out of rhythm.

There are also other obvious signs to pipe issues other than sensing it, such as nearly getting mauled by giant spider legs coming out of the toilet. She was just brushing her teeth after breakfast when, suddenly, arachnid were limbs flailing about in her bathroom.

Despite all her bravado, she felt that this was a job for a hapless plumber. When she described her situation to the plumbing service over the phone, they put her on hold for an hour before saying they were sending over a specialist.

The specialist came. Now she was “fixing the toilet”, Rainbow Dash was told. Apparently “fixing the toilet” required a duffle bag with a variety of medieval weapons sticking out in all directions, which the specialist left outside the door.

The pegasus had been waiting outside the bathroom for an hour, holding an ear up to the door for the entire duration. She was listening to the specialist’s “fixing”, which had a sound akin to an army attempting to slay a dragon.

Roars and screeches frequently bombarded the other side of the door as an arsenal of battle implements clashed together to subdue them in combat. Rainbow would jump back every time something slammed against the wall. There would be an occasional pause, in which the specialist would open the door and ask for Rainbow to pass her a monkey wrench or an Ottoman battle ax.

It was after an hour, and one loud BOOM, that Rainbow had to cover her ears as a final death shrill blasted its way from the interior of the restroom. Silence rolled in shortly afterwards. The door opened as the specialist, a blueish-grey earthpony with magical butterfly wings and a shotgun slung over her shoulder, walked out with the stench of victory and sewage hanging over her head.

“So, what happened?” Rainbow asked.

The specialist tossed the shotgun in her duffle bag. “Turns out the bugger only wanted some monetary incentive to leave, so I bribed it with bullets.”

“So, it’s finally gone?”

The specialist zipped up her duffle bag and flung it over her shoulder. “Not exactly. The reason you had a giant spider in your toilet in the first place was because some temporal vortex ended up in the u-bend. I got rid of the vortex, but I think little pieces of it broke off which could be temporal passages to that bugger’s nest. They’re probably flowing all around in the interior plumbing. If you don’t get rid of the pieces, then you may get oversized arachnids coming out of the walls later on.”

Rainbow Dash saw where this was going. “Fine, how much am I going to have to pay you to clear it out, Miss…?”

“Call me Flux. And I only work with anomalies in toilets. I have to call HQ to send in a guy to snake through that plumbing and clear out the paradox goop.”

“Can you call him?”

“Already did. He should be here right about”-

The doorbell echoed throughout the house.

The specialist walked with Rainbow Dash for the door. When the pegasus opened the front door to let the specialist out and the new guest in, she was rather surprised over who she met.

“Discord?!”

The aforementioned chimera, who was wearing work overalls, looked down at the resident with feint contempt. “Oh, hello Rainbow Dash.”

The specialist walked out the door and nodded to Discord. “Have fun, she has giant spiders. Remember to bring out the artillery.”

“Oh fun. And you remember to enjoy your daughter’s Cute-señera.”

“You know I’m going to.” And the specialist flew off into another universe, leaving the dragonequus and pegasus alone at the doorstep.

A freezer covered in post-it notes popped out of nowhere to break the ice. Discord leaned against the freezer as a finger from his hawk hand traced the words on one of the notes. “It says here you have a pest problem in your pipes. That’s an easy problem to solve.”

A white envelope popped into existence above Rainbow Dash, which proceeded to fall down and hit her head before ending up on the ground. Written on the envelope with big red letters, the word “Evicted” blared at the pegasus. She offered a scowl to her guest. “It was you, wasn’t it? You messed up my toilet!”

“Who, me?” Discord put on his best innocent face. “I don’t know why you would even suggest such a thing.”

“You’re Discord. This has you written all over it.”

“Rainbow, my dear, even if I wanted to, which I don’t, I couldn’t put a nest of giant black widows in your toilet. I’d be fired for it.”

“Why would you care about a job?”

Discord chuckled as he floated on his back and backstroked his way into the cloud house. “Even spirits of chaos need financial support in a tough multiverse such as this one. Just don’t tell the Discord of this universe I’m a plumber. He’ll never stop with the crappy toilet humor.”

“Of this universe? There are more of you?”

“Oh, yes, about one for every universe out there.” A cuckoo bird popped out of existence, which began to fly around and tap random parts of the room. “We even have our own bi-annual convention.”

“That many Discords sounds horrible!”

He swiveled a lion paw in the air. “It’s a fifty-fifty thing. Fifty of them are tyrannical overlords, fifty are obsessed with burning everything to the ground, and the rest just want to have chaos. I can guarantee you the Discord in this universe has a one third chance of being in one of those categories.”

After tapping several places around the room, the cuckoo began to fly around in circles. After sufficiently making itself dizzy, it zoomed for a particularly blank wall where it splattered against it in an explosion of petunias.

“Ah, I think I’ve found your problem.”

The dragonequus grabbed the side of the empty wall and tore the cloud plaster off like a band-aid. As he tore, he revealed another wall made of brick. After he finished tearing, he rolled up the cloud plaster and stuffed it down his gullet. “Ah, there it is.” In the middle of the now exposed wall, there was a large metal circular door, similar to the one a bank would use.

“Discord, what’s behind the door?”

“Probably an army of giant mutant ferocious hungry spiders that are ready to pounce on anything that walks in.”

“And how are you going to get rid of them?”

Discord pulled a bunny out of the void, which he used to pull a top hat out of its mouth. After tossing the bunny out of the window, he pulled a small metal ball out of the top hat, and then threw the top hat out of the window as well.

He showed Rainbow Dash the metallic ball in his hand, which had a ring dangling from the top and had yellow lettering written on the side that read “M-8008135”. After pulling the ring from the ball, he opened the vault door and tossed it inside. He slammed the vault closed and kept his back against it.

“Is that it?”

“Wait for it.”

Rainbow Dash waited, then heard a muffled *boom* come from behind the vault.

Before she could say anything, the walls around her burst apart as water pipes hidden behind them exploded and released a torrent of water, drenching the pegasus in H2O.

“Discord! What did you do?!”

“Hey, if this happened, then whatever was in there must be dead.”

“Well, fix the room now!”

With the snap of the fingers, the room returned back to normal. “And everything is fine. Happy now?”

The pegasus tried to squeeze leftover water from her mane. “Are you finished?”

“Not quite yet.” Discord pulled a slip of paper out of a pot of flowers on a coffee table. “This is your bill.”

Rainbow Dash snatched the slip and began to read the numbers printed on it. “34 bits doesn’t sound too bad. What’s the catch?”

“The catch is that I’m not ending it with a joke.”

“That’s a catch?”

“I have a job. There are other water systems I have to reverse in polarity in other universes. You’re not the only one, Rainbow. I can’t always finish off in a joke. Just remember to call me if something like this happens again. Have to go, adios.”

And just like that, the brave plumbing dragonequus flew off into the multiverse void to fix the problems of other mares’ plumbing.

Author's Note

Written for the EQD WTG #6 for "Three's a Crowd". Critique is encouraged, along with explosions. Explosions are fun.

They say you should write outside of your comfort zone, and Discord is definitely out of my comfort zone. You'd think he'd fit right into my style of randomness, but you would be wrong. The bugger is based on micro-randomness, I'm a macro guy. There's a difference. This isn't my best story, mostly because it was a quicky. Celestia, dang it, even the author's note is filled with innuendos!

The Coffee Button

The Coffee Button
By A Random Guy

A magical glow suspended a bowl of olives in the air by Twilight’s head. Two of the little fruits jumped from the bowl and soared into her mouth. As she chewed on her little fruits, she observed Pinkie as the party pony dropped large box on the kitchen counter.

“So, what’s in the box,” Twilight asked as she chowed down on another olive.

“I don’t know. I just found it at my door this morning. It even came with a postcard.” A pink hoof shoved a picture of an old building in a tropical city. Written in orange cursive letters were the words “From Bronxico, with love”. A paragraph was written on the back of the card in Bronxican, which Twilight couldn’t read. She noticed that the paragraph ended with the phrase, “Hasta luego, your cousin, U.”

“I didn’t know you had cousins in Bronxico.”

“Yes you did. We went over this a few weeks ago.” Pinkie began ripping the tape off of the top of the package. “Or maybe that was Applejack. I forget.”

As Pinkie tore up the tape, Twilight played a guessing game with herself over what could be in the package. Seeing that the box was about one and a half cubic meters large, she immediately deduced that the object inside was big. The box didn’t seem like it had undergone significant strain, so whatever was inside of it wasn’t heavy.

The last of the tape fell from the top of the box. Pinkie got up on the counter to look down into the package to see what was inside. A warm heavenly light reflected off her face as she stared at its contents. “Ooh, pretty shiny!” the pink pony squeaked.

Twilight stood up and tried to lean over the package’s side to take a peak, but her view was blocked by her friend’s fluffy pink mane. Before she could push her friends out of the way, something clicked inside the box. The cardboard panels that made up the sides started to fold outwards. The glow from inside grew. A song of an angelic choir echoed out from the void.

Time slowed down as Twilight’s mind flooded itself with question revolving the box’s contents. With the light show going on in front of her, it had to be something important.

The box’s light covered her forehead.

It had to be some sort of magical artifact. Why would Pinkie’s cousin send her such an artifact from Bronxico? Did she send it as a gift, or is it something so dangerous that she could only entrust Pinkie to keep it safe?

The box’s light covered her eyes, blinding her of the contents inside.

But if it was a dangerous artifact, why would Pinkie’s cousin send it to Pinkie of ponies? What made Pinkie so special that she could be trusted to keep something safe? Was it something that was going to endanger the entire town in some way?

The box’s light covered the entire room. The panels dissolved into nothingness, leaving the contents of the box sitting on the counter. The light soon dissolved into nothingness as well.

In place of the package, on top of the counter, was the dangerous artifact Twilight was worried about. But she wasn’t thinking it was dangerous anymore, since it didn’t look like anything like an artifact.

On her counter was a silver, vacuum sealed bag with the word “Coffee” written of the side. Next to this bag was a red plastic disk lined by a metal ring, a big red button.

The unicorn stared at the new object in her kitchen. “An entire lightshow for a single button?”

“Must be an important button.”

Twilight studied the objects in front of her. “Well… Does it do anything?”

“Let me check.” Pinkie did what one would do with any button and pressed it.

After a moment, the button started blinking on and off, each blink taking a second between each state. Both ponies watched closely, waiting patiently for something to happen. Pinkie pushed her nose against the side of the device, her eyes daring it to make a move. Twilight mentally documented each blink as another hapless olive flung itself into her mouth.

Twilight counted twenty-seven blinks before her friend started to fidget with her hair. At blink sixty-nine Pinkie began to occupy herself by spinning around on a nearby barstool. At blink one hundred and fifty four a fly landed next to the button. At blink two hundred and sixty three Pinkie fell from her barstool and complained about nausea.

At blink four hundred twelve, Spike preformed a groggy waltz into the kitchen. His mouth opened wide to let a yawn crawl out as he climbed up the barstool next to Twilight. He mumbled something unintelligible as his head slumped against the counter, to which Twilight responded with a “good morning” greeting.

Twilight almost choked on an olive at blink four hundred twenty six. At that particular blink, the button stopped blinking. In the same moment, a steaming cup of coffee materialized on top of the red dais.

Spike’s head perked up as the aroma of the hot liquid reach his nose. His hand reached over to pull the cup towards him. The young dragon slurped as he took a long sip of the caffeinated drink. “That’s some good stuff. Thanks for making it, Twilight.”

“You’re… welcome. Pinkie, you saw that didn’t you?”

Pinkie waved from a fold-out chair she had pulled out earlier. Her eyes were covered by glasses with circle lenses and she wore a black beret on top of her head. She pressed a button on a cam-recorder in her hooves. The party pony responded in a fake fancy accent. “Magnifique. It was the epitome of my career!”

Spike looked at the ponies with confusion. “What? Was there something in the coffee?”

“No. Or, maybe. We don’t know. It just appeared out of nowhere after we stared at a button for a few minutes.”

Spike nodded as he took another sip. “Seriously, Twilight, siempre haces cosas locas.”

“Excuse me?”

“Siempre haces cosas locas. ¿Fue ofensivo?”

“Talk Equestrian. I can’t understand you.”

“Sí estoy. ¿Qué otra lengua hablare?”

“When did you learn Bronxican?”

“No hablo Broxican. ¡Pinkie, dale que yo no hable Bronxican!”

“Twilight, Spike isn’t speaking Bronxican.”

“Wait, why can you understand him but I can’t?”

“Because I speak Bronxican.”

“¡No hablo Bronxican!”

“Okay, there definitely was something in that coffee.’ The bag of coffee beans floated over to Twilight. “Bronxico Royal Blend,” she read off of the package. “Pinkie, does this blend usually have anything weird in it?”

“Nothing that I can think of, although it’s too heavy in caffeine for me. I usually go with the Ponygal stuff, has more taste to it. But sometimes I need a pick-me-up so I mix it in with Coltumbian beans. And don’t get me started on Braztallion coffee.”

“¡Basta con los juegos de palabras sobre poni y países!”

“Sorry Spike, I was just getting carried away there.”

“Well, maybe it has something to do with the button then?”

To prove her theory, Twilight reached over to press the button. The button’s reaction was similar to the time before, it blinked, though it only took five blinks for the next cup to appear.

“That was fast.”

“¡Ay caramba!”

“Interesting.” The unicorn poked the cup of joe off the button, attempting to see if anything interesting would happen. “We’re going to need more experimentation on this thing. Nopony touch this until I figure what it”-

Pinkie snatched up the button before Twilight could finish, flipping the cup of coffee off the table. “Free coffee for everypony!” Twilight watched as the pink party pony ran out of the library on two legs while holding the button in the air.

“… What it is… Spike, should I go after her?”

“Ella es tu amiga. Va y da un revolcón.”

“You’re probably right, she’ll be fine. You, on the other hand, should start speaking something we can understand.”

“Solo si sé sobre que hables.” The little dragon turned to walk out of the kitchen. “Gracias para el café. ¡Viva la Uva!”

Twilight was left alone once Spike left the room, left to think about what the little dragon said. Unfortunately, she couldn’t get far with his words, since they were in a language she couldn’t understand.

“Eh, I’m sure it will sort itself out at some point.

Twilight, being the studious mare she is, knew about many of the ailments that plagued the ponies living in a modern Equestria. Most were due to not bothering to take care of their own bodies when they were younger. She tried to take care of herself to beat the threat of sickness in old age. She usually had an hour of exercise or a healthy bowl of salad to thwart off the enemy of illness.

However, there was one illness she didn’t have a cure for, old age itself. She considered this a serious problem, since most ponies ignored this problem until the last minute, and at that point the metaphorical/literal train had already passed and they didn’t get off the tracks in time.

Since she had already prepared for the hypothetical event of standing on the wrong side of a moving train, she committed herself to solving the problem of old age at a relatively young age. It started out as a boiling passionate search for immortality, but after the second incident of a giant killer spider apparently mysteriously appearing in Rainbow Dash’s house, it died down to a simmering interest on the back burner.

Before Pinkie showed her the miracle that was the button of coffee, Twilight had been occupying her morning in making her latest experimental Bottle of Youth. Since it was rather early in the morning, she didn't feel like setting up anything complex, so she had decided on playing around with her latest promising endeavor: olives.

Olives were possibly the miracle fruit she was looking for. Although they didn't seem to have any qualities to suggest they were a fruit that added time to somepony’s life, in fact pickled olives may actually shave off a few years, they were so insignificant in the grand scheme of things that they may just ironically do something special over time.

At least that’s what Twilight was telling everypony. In all honesty she just wanted to eat some dang olives without being questioned why she had a sudden love for them. Couldn’t a princess of Equestria eat without being put on trial for her eating habits?

It was some time after Pinkie took off with the button when Twilight found out she ran out of olives. Being Twilight, she made sure to double check, then triple check, that she was out of the succulent fruits.

After tearing up the library looking in each nook and cranny, then tearing up the fridge, then cleaning up the pile of torn up metal that used to be a fridge, then tearing up a couch after finding out the fridge didn’t have insurance that covered “violent magical tearing”, she determined that there was, in fact, no olives to be found in the house.

Since there were no olives in the house, she would need to put olives in the house. And to do that, she would need to go to the market.

There wasn’t anything wrong with going to the market, it was a necessary chore. A trip to the market only meant that Twilight would get her saddlebags, close up the library for an hour, and have a nice walk in the town.

She never knew what could happen in those town walks. Usually the trips were uneventful, and this trip started off seeming uneventful as well. She smelt the flowers, she admired the cloudless sky, and she said hello to passing ponies. The only odd thing so far on this trip was that ponies were suddenly donning a new mane style, a style that composed of an excess of dark green dye and hair clumping that made ponies’ manes look similar to a bush.

On her way to the town center, Twilight came across a newly constructed vender’s stand. Bent nails stuck out all over the rotting wood of the stand. White paint was haphazardly splattered across the boards. A sign above the stand had large black letters painted on that read “Free Coffee”. A line of ponies extended from the front of the stand and snakes between the nearby buildings. Behind the stand, the premier party pony of the town passed out cups of coffee to anypony who walked up to the stand.

Twilight, deciding a side conversation was worth her time, cut in front of the first pony in line to confront her friend. “Pinkie, are you using the coffee button irresponsibly?”

A large bulky stallion shoved past Twilight as he retrieved his complimentary caffeinated drink. “This is responsible, silly.” Pinky smiled as she passed along her product. “You can’t hide a wonderful invention like this from the public. It’s bottomless coffee, Twilight, bottomless coffee!”

“I can see why ponies would want that.” Twilight watched as the stallion took a big swig from the cup, and then proceeded to shatter the cup on the ground once its contents were empty. “But you should be telling these ponies about what they’re drinking?”

Suddenly, Twilight found herself being stared down by the above-average-in-size stallion. “Is there something wrong with my coffee, ma’am?”

The unicorn reeled back with each breath the stallion let loose. “N-no sir, nothing in your coffee. It’s all good in the hood, as they say.”

“Good to know.” A small wooden branch, such as the one from a young sapling tree, sprouted from the stallion’s forehead. The branch swayed as he turned his head to face Pinkie Pie. “Gracias para el café, señora. ¡Viva la Uva!”

“My pleasure. Viva la Uva. Next!” The branch on the stallions head bounced up and down as the massive horse walked away.

“Uh, Pinkie, how long has that…”

“The plants on ponies’ heads? Oh, that started happening when I mixed the generic brand. Some ponies couldn’t handle such a dark coffee like Bronxican coffee.”

“Pinkie, you’re playing with a device that we don’t know anything about.”

“Oh, I know all about it. The instructions were written on the postcard.”

“You mean the postcard written in Bronxican?”

“Yep.”

“Out of curiosity, did it say anything about ushering the apocalypse?”

“Yep, but don’t worry. It only happens in the afternoon when the five o’clock feeling kicks in. We have time.”

“… You know what, I’ll worry about it after lunch. I’m really in the mood for some olives.”

Twilight was used to having due dates pile up on her. She found that she could get a lot of work down with a deadline breathing down her neck, even if she found herself having a mental breakdown in the process.

At the moment, her deadline was a natural and common one. It was an internal deadline, a deadline that everyone had. To simply put it, it was a deadline of hunger, a hunger that, if the deadline isn’t met, would lead to the mass destruction of civilization and life on earth. Fortunately, this hunger was usually fulfilled with a hearty lunch, such as a sandwich.

All she could think of was having a nice olive sandwich, with sliced olives packed into olive bread, doused with olive jelly, all kept together with a toothpick with an olive impaled into it. She found it rather irritating that it was the only thing she could think of, but she didn’t think much of that since the olive sandwich was all she could think about.

That’s not to say she completely shut out the world around her. Twilight considered it rather rude to ignore somepony that gave a greeting as she passed by. “Mornin’, Twilight,” a passerby would say.

“Hey,” she would reply instinctively with a nod of her head.

And then the thought of the passerby would immediately be replaced by the mental image of her ultimate prize. Oh, olives, how could be described? What is it that made you so delightful? What give you your magical charm in every bite? Is it-

“Hi Twilight!” interrupted a passerby with plant-like hair.

“Hey.” Where was she? Oh yes, magical charm in every bite. Was it how the juices formed the perfect combination of chemicals to create the perfect taste? Was it how the skin of the god of fruits broke apart as her teeth would rip through it? Was it-

“Buenos días, Twilight. ¿Qué tal? ¡Viva la Uva!” another passerby interrupted.

“Hey.” What about the color? Oh that color of all colors, the color olive. That color scheme just sets the standard all industry should follow. A red interior with an olive green outer shell, what could be more splendid? Nothing could-

“Blaaarrrlllgllaaaa,” interrupted a passing giant pony-tree hybrid monstrosity thing as it stumbled into the side of a house, taking down half of the building.

“Hey.” Wow, there were a lot of distractions outdoors today. Where was she? Olives, blah blah blah, magical charm, blah blah blah, juices, blah blah blah, industry standard or something like that, blah blah, blah. For some reason, she couldn’t remember where she left off, and for some other reason, she thought it had something to do with ponchos.

“Excuse me, ma’am.”

But why would she be thinking of ponchos when she was thinking of olives? She could have sworn that her train of thought was going somewhere groundbreakingly philosophical, but where exactly?

“Ma’am, excuse me.”

It didn’t matter where her mind was taking her. Olives were the only thing that mattered, and filling her empty stomach with a good meal of olives. How long was it going to take her to get to the restaurant? She couldn’t wait for olives forever.

“Ma’am, everything is ready.”

“Oh, what?”

Twilight broke out of her olive trance and looked around her. She was, in fact, at the restaurant. It seemed that sometime in the last hour, she sat herself down at the restaurant, ordered an olive-tini for a drink, consumed several baskets of chips, and drew a masterpiece of an olive on a napkin with crayon.

“Oh, yes, I’m ready. Ready for what, exactly?”

“Your sandwich is ready, ma’am,” the waiter replied. He placed a plate with an olive sandwich on top of the table in front of her. Apparently, she also ordered her lunch as well without her knowing. “Buen provecho, señora.”

“Thanks.” The waiter left Twilight in solitude with her precious lunch, the sandwich that was stuffed with the olives she dreamt about for the past hour.

The consumption of such a heavenly relic couldn’t just be eaten without a care. It needed to be caressed, bathed in a ritual that would honor even the mightiest of gods.

First, she centered the sandwich on the plate to ensure that her entire process would go flawlessly. Such a procedure needed a perfect foundation.

Next, she turned the plate in a clockwise direction until the pointiest corner faced magnetic north. This would allow the good spirit of the olive god to smile down upon her as she feasted on her meal.

For her next part, she put her hooves together and bowed her head in respect. She didn’t know why she did this, she just felt like she should go all the way with the ritual.

Finally, the part of the ritual came where she could finally consume the olive goodness in-between two slices of bread. She engulfed the sandwich with her magic, which began to hover in the air. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth wide. Her magic propelled the lunch towards her mouth. When her magic felt it in between her teeth, she decided it was as good of time as any to take a bite.

But when her mouth snapped shut to partake in her delectable treat, she couldn’t taste it. Switching to panic mode, her eyes shot open to investigate why she wasn’t eating an olive sandwich at that moment.

Instead of floating pieces of bread with condiments in-between, all she could see was wood. She looked down the wood to see the remnants of what she used to call a sandwich being crushed by a tree stump.

Her eyes followed up the tree stump and wood to find that the stump was larger than she had first thought. It merged with another stump to form a thick trunk. Farther up the trunk was the face of a pony that was twisting out from the bark.

When she saw the face of the single pony, the thoughts of the olive sandwich left Twilight’s mind and were replaced by a single phrase that she felt needed to be voiced.

“Dang it, Pinkie. What did I tell you?”

“Pinkie, we need to talk.”

The pink party pony looked over as a branch from a giant pony tree picked a cup of coffee that appeared on top of the red button. “Sure, what do you want to talk about?”

“Stop giving away coffee. Its turning ponies into giant walking trees.”

“They don’t seem to mind.”

The pony tree moaned a long wail after flinging its cup of coffee across the town.

“You’re welcome. Enjoy your day!”

“Pinkie, stop it. Are you even aware of what you’re doing?”

“The coffee is tuning ponies into plants. I thought it was obvious.”

Twilight’s forehead made a thud as her hoof instinctively smacked into it. “Okay, let me put this in simple terms so you can get why this is a bad idea. This will end in an apocalypse. You seem to be fine with this fact, but if we all die by mutant pony trees, I’m going to lose a bet. The world is only allowed to end by giant squid.”

Pinkie pressed the button for a walking bush. “Why does it just need to be squid?”

“Because that’s what I’m betting on, only squid. If there’s anything else in there I have to clean the library for a week.”

Pinkie passed the new cup of coffee for the bush’s consumption, which consumed it by letting it spill all over itself. “You should’ve gone with giant cockroaches. They don’t know it yet, but they’ll be the harbingers of the end of everything.”

“Right there, you just gave more coffee away. You need to stop this!”

“Even if you get me to stop, you still have your problem of pony-trees, which only you perceive as a problem.”

“I know that. I’m trying to get a handle on the spreading of the problem.” The unicorn looked around at the town square, which at this point was full of pony-trees stumbling around the place. One stumbled over and tapped the coffee button. The handle of the cup hooked onto the branch as it appeared. The pony-tree lurched back into the square with its prize, crashing it another tree as it waddled along.

“I don’t think you have a handle on this situation.”

“Hush, let me think.” Another passing pony-tree stumbled along, scrapping the button and picking up its cup in a single motion.

“Have you thought of anything yet?”

“No I haven’t.” Pinkie watched her friend ponder about her predicament as several other pony-trees came by to pick up their brew. After the nineteenth one, Twilight jumped up in an “aha” moment.

“Did you think of something?”

“Even as trees, ponies are still coming along to drink coffee, right?”

“That’s what’s been happening.”

“And they became trees when you threw in the generic brand, correct?”

“Eh, they were about as wooden as before. Why? Watcha thinking?”

“Maybe, just maybe, we can reverse the polarity of the current coffee by throwing in another type of coffee to counter act the current effects.”

“That’s a terrible idea.”

“Giving away the dredge that comes out of that button is a terrible idea.”

“Only you think that’s a terrible idea.”

“Well, only you think adding in more coffee is a terrible idea.”

“Touché.”

“So, have any ideas for an extra blend?”

“One word: Braztallion coffee!”

“That’s two- forget it. Braztallion it is! It’ll probably be the best idea today yet.”

“That was the worst idea today yet.”

Just a few minutes ago, the distribution of the new blend was in full swing. It seemed that pony-tree monsters from all over town instinctively flocked to try out the new coffee. Twilight tried trying her best from getting impaled when a tree branch charged to pick up a cup.

Fortunately for Twilight, they enjoyed the new stuff. Unfortunately for Twilight, the new stuff caused the pony-trees to spurt hot lava all over the place.

Twilight and Pinky huddled together inside a magical shield Twilight threw up before a wave of molten rock cascaded over them. Both wore a pair of thick sunglasses to shield their eyes from the heat radiating through the shield. Their coats shimmered in the fiery embers of the liquid stone.

“I told you that was a bad idea.”

“Quiet.” Twilight concentrated on a single point of empty space. Nothing could break her out of her trance, not even the pony-tree that waded through the lava and tripped over the shield. “I was banking on that reversing the polarity. It was the only think I could think of.”

“You know why it was the only thing you could think of?”

The unicorn didn’t waver away from her stare into nothingness. “Why?”

“You have the five o’clock feeling. It’s the time where everypony gets tired and dredge comes out of their brains.”

“Well, good to know I have that. Is there any way I can get rid of it?”

“Ya, just give me a bit to prep it up.”

Twilight continued staring at the nothingness, ignoring the waves of lava that splashed over their protective sphere. “So, coffee… Coffee coffee coffee coffee. Why would coffee do such a thing as this? And why would it be so inconstant? Bronixcan made Spike speak Bronxican, generic turned ponies into trees, Braztallion made turned the trees into lava monsters.”

“Here you go.” Pinkie held up a mug full of brown liquid for Twilight.

“Thanks,” Twilight replied, her gaze unwavering, grabbing the mug with her magic. “Adding stuff to the blend is too risky. Maybe adding water will… No, that may just turn ponies into fish. Maybe adding cream? Cream makes coffee sweeter, so maybe that’ll work.”

She took a sip of her coffee. “Maybe if we could reach the Elements of Harmony, we could fix all of this, but that’ll take time to collect them all. Maybe a quick visit to Canterlot for a shopping trip at the Magical McGuffin could work. I’m sure there’s something there that’ll solve this problem.”

She took another long sip from her coffee. “Again, that would take time. Maybe if I make a contrived metaphor. My problem is like a… It’s like an alien invasion. Ya, that works. And during an alien, if you eliminate the leader, everything else goes away. So, if the coffee button is the leader, then we just need to eliminate the button. Aha!”

She broke away from her gaze and swung around to give Pinkie a big hung, waving the mug through the air with her magic. “It’s genius! All we need to do is destroy the button!”

Behind Pinkie, suspended in the air with a purple magical glow, was her mug, which she finally gave a thought about for the first time. “Pinkie, why am I holding a coffee mug with my magic?”

“Because you were drinking coffee.”

“What?!” The mug shattered against the ground as the magic hold released it. “You gave me the coffee that turns ponies into giant tree monsters?”

“Yep.”

“We’re in a magical bubble shield! I’m going to grow significantly and we’re going to be squished in here! Do you have any idea how dumb that was?”

“Oh, relax. I had eight and I’m fine.”

“Okay, well maybe it doesn’t affect the Elements of Harmony then. Guess that’s a perk of being a savior of Equestria. That’s good to know.”

The lava slushed away from outside as a giant pony-tree came crashing against the shield. Pinkie waved at the new visitor. “Hi, Fluttershy!”

It was at this point Twilight collapsed against the floor. “Oh, Luna, we’re going to be giant tree-ponies!”

“Twilight, you may”-

The unicorn rolled around on the floor as her legs flailed up in the air. “I’m going to be a pony-tree thing! It can’t end like this! It just can’t!”

“Twilight”-

“Goodbye, cruel world! Why have you forsaken me like this?”

“Twilight, it’s alright. All you have to do is get up and look.”

“I don’t want to look! I don’t want to see myself end up like that!”

“Twilight, as one of your closest friends, I say this with all the love in my heart. Grow a pair and look around.”

“Huh?” Twilight ceased her flailing and looked. She braced herself to be blinded by the embers of lava, or to feel the vertigo of suddenly finding her head a mile high pushing a forest of foliage out of her hair.

Bu she didn’t have foliage for hair, she just had normal hair. And there weren’t embers there to blind her. In fact, the lava around her was completely gone. The giant pony-trees were gone, replaced by a crowd of ponies gathered huddled outside the shield. A yellow pegasus waved at the her friends trapped inside the bubble.

“Uh, Pinkie, what happened?”

“You drank the coffee and opened your inner eye.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that, no matter how much we change, we’re still the same ponies.”

Twilight looked down at her hooves to ensure that they were still hooves, which were, in fact, still hooves. “So, nopony was ever a giant pony-tree monster?”

“Silly Twilight, we all are monsters on the inside.”

“I guess that’s philosophical, in a pessimistic way.”

“You’re not getting it. We all are monsters on the inside, literally. Everypony is still a giant pony-tree monster.”

“But, they’re all normal looking.”

“Ya, well, the perception of one’s self can alter the perception of everything else.”

“You know, that is probably extremely thought provoking, but I don’t want to think about it. I’m going to get an olive sandwich.”

“Do you want to have some coffee with that?”

And on that day, the cops counted exactly seventy three witnesses that could testify against Twilight for charges of excessive assault with a button-like object.

Deep within the interior of the border state of Equestria, Bronxico City sat seemingly unaffected by the events of Ponyville. Little linked the Bronxican capitol with the Equestrian village. However, one relationship existed, sustained within the postal system through postcards.

Near the center of the city was the Casa Rosada, a grand pinkish building that hosted the core of Bronxico’s politics. It served as the office for all of the politicians on the highest level, serving as the home of the country’s president.

The current president, Uva Pastel, a purple earth pony dressed for business, leaned back in her chair as she shifted through the important mail that her secretary organized for her. Most of the letters were pre-opened, having been searched beforehand to determine importance and potential risk.

There was one unopened letter, however, that was heavily labeled with the necessary documentation to classify it to only be viewed by the president’s eyes, and her eyes alone. The return address pinpointed its origin to the small village in Equestria, Ponyville.

Uva Pastel found a postcard when she opened the envelope. On the face of the card, a picture of Canterlot at sunrise was displayed with the words, “Canterlot, where the sun always rises.” On the back of the card, several paragraphs in Bronxican were written with neat penmanship. If those paragraphs were written in Equestrian, they would read as follows:

“Hiya, cousin. Has anything happened since you last sent a postcard? I met another pony who likes to party who may party harder than me! He was nice about it, though, and we held Rainbow’s party together. It was the best birthday party she’s had ever! But I know that’s not what you really want to talk about though. Shame we never talk about the nice things in life.

“The hallucination potion, like you said, did work. I wasn’t happy with slipping Twilight that nasty stuff, but it did work. She kept on eating the olives and she ended up having a mental breakdown. The Bronxican coffee did clear her up. I hate using my friends as test subjects for your experiments, but what needs to be done, needs to be done.

“I heard that you’ll be shipping out the olives to the Equestrian public soon. The coffee buttons are going to follow, aren’t they? I know that you’re trying to build up your finances, but making these buttons for profit seems like a step in the wrong direction. I don’t know why, but I have a bad twitch about that, and you of all ponies should know that my twitches should be taken seriously.

“Anyways, I hope it’s fun being president. I’ll see you on your next fundraiser tour. From your cousin, ¡Viva la Uva! with love, Pinkie Pie.”

The president put down the postcard on her desk. There wasn’t really much else to do now but lean back, wait, and smile. Viva la Uva indeed.

Author's Note

Written for EQD WTG #6 for "Pinkie Pride". Criticisms encouraged. Non-Newtonian fish also encouraged. In fact, get me a full vat of jiggle fish. I want to watch them jiggle.

Also, what you just read, I have an explanation for that... Actually, I don't. It's bizarre and I love it.

The Celestia Sparkle Shakeup

The Celestia Sparkle Shakeup
Written by A Random Guy

For hundreds of years, Celestia has claimed to be like any other normal pony, despite being the all-powerful alicorn deity of the sun. As far as any pony knew, she slept, ate, drank, relieved herself, cooked, walked, sat, solved crimes, saved the universe, brought home all the mares, drove expensive chariots, and flew like anypony else.

But in all honesty, she didn’t give a flying squirrel’s right pinky about any of that stuff. It was just all for marketing so little fillies could think they had a chance of magically becoming an alicorn princess. Now that Twilight was an alicorn, Celestia didn’t have to act normal as much anymore.

Which was why it was odd that she found herself waking up from a bed in the morning. For one thing, she didn’t ever need to go to bed. Even if she looked like she was sleeping, she would be mentally awake, magically manipulating documents in her office so she wouldn’t have to deal with them when she would “wake up”.

Another thing was that she was waking up to the morning. She was the sun princess, so shouldn’t she be raising the sun to make the morning appear? If so, then why was there a morning sun shining through a window and waking her up?

In fact, what was with that window anyways? It was so small and tiny, not like what the window in her room should be, magnificently large and over-compensating.

Was this not her room? Celestia looked around to confirm whether or not it was, in fact her room. Usually her walls were made of marble, but some mischievous pony replaced all the beautiful alabaster stone with plain wood.

And her bed, what was up with her bed? Celestia was almost too big for her current bed, plus it was made out of something that felt akin to the sharp spikes usually found at the bases of cliffs. The only conclusion she could think of was that somepony set her bed on fire and replaced it with this significantly inferior piece of subpar furniture. It would be a shame if that were the case, since she would have to start another war with the Griffon Kingdom in order to justify her filling her bed with griffon plumage.

A voice called from behind a door. “Hey, Twilight, are you up yet?”

That voice, it was familiar to Celestia. She couldn’t place her hoof on it, but she could tell it wasn’t one of her servants. Whoever it was, it was a mystery that could be easily solved. “Hello, who’s out there?”

“Uh, it’s Spike,” the voice replied. “Are you almost ready yet? We need to be at the Running of the Leaves soon.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

A little purple dragon opened the door and entered the room. “You know, the Running of the Leaves, the event that you’ve wanted to participate for a second time.”

“I never said anything like that.”

“Twilight, you did say that. You couldn’t stop bugging me about it for the past month.”

The alicorn was confused by the dragon’s comment. It didn’t really matter to her, though. She just needed to correct him in a royal manner. “I’m not Twilight. I am Princess Celestia.”

“No, you’re Twilight.”

“Do you doubt who I am? I am the Princess of the Day, Princess Celestia.”

“Alright, what did you do this time?”

“What do you mean?”

“The last time you acted this way was when you thought the assassin got Celestia for once.”

“That was Twilight?”

“Ooh boy, this’ll be a rough day.”

It couldn’t be, could it? Why was Spike confusing Celestia for Twilight? She took a look at her wings to check if she was going crazy. She still had the pearly white wings of an angel, not Twilight’s lavender feathered appendages.

“Look at these,” Celestia said as she poked her white wings with a hoof. “Do these look like they belong to Twilight?”

“What, the purple wings? Ya, those are yours.” He walked out of the room. “Out of all the days to have a mental breakdown…”

Celestia was left alone in the bedroom. She checked herself again to see if she had any trace of purple that would confuse someone with Twilight, but the only purple she could find was a streak in her flowing mane, which was a light lavender more than a Twilight purple.

She concluded that this all had to be an elaborate prank. She couldn’t sense any magic, and there didn’t seem to be any signs of foul play, so she didn’t see any harm in playing along.

Besides, if things got too out of hand to the point getting annoying, she could smite everyone and blame it on a random solar flare. Oh, the joys of being a god.

For some reason, Twilight couldn’t get up. It wasn’t because something was holding her down. It was just that she felt too heavy to bother putting energy into getting up.

She didn’t feel a need to get up. Whatever she was lying on, it was magnificent. She felt fabric conforming to her body as she lay there. The fabric was supported by something fluffy, yet firm. It almost felt like she was walking through Cloudsdale with the cloud walking spell on, except she was lying down instead of walking.

The sound of something knocking on a piece of wood echoed from the distance. It was followed by a gruff string of syllables. “Princess, are you awake?”

The sounds subsided, and more sensations covered Twilight. She felt warm, like she was huddled up with her mother by the fireplace reading a book. She wiggled her body around to dig herself further into the fabric and embraced the warmth.

“Princess, you need to get up.”

Get up… Why would she want to get up? It smelt too nice to get up. She couldn’t pinpoint what she smelt, but it did smell sweet, like the smell of nectar if the sent was softer. The sent was also accented by something small but dull to enhance the dominant smell. She thought it smelt familiar, like the day Gilda showed up to Ponyville, so maybe it was something from a griffon. There was also a tinge of iron behind the underlying smell, like the scent that comes from bl-

“Princess Luna, she won’t get up.”

“I can take care of this. You are dismissed.”

Why must the voices talk? They interrupt the air with their blabber. It was a nuisance. But it doesn’t matter now, they were gone. Twilight was left alone again in her own thoughts. She felt like she could do anything in her current state. Wasn’t there a problem she had been trying to solve for a while? Yes there was. It all made sense now! She was looking at the problem all wrong. All she had to do was-

*CLAAAANG*

“AAAH!” Twilight screamed out. She wasn’t lying down anymore. The unicorn was clinging to a piece of upholstery hanging from above, as if she jumped for great heights and lashed out for the first thing she could grab on for.

Twilight looked down. Directly below her, there was a bed with a pony-shaped dent in the middle of it. Off to the side was the night princess herself with a pair of symbols floating next to her.

“We believe it’s time for thou to wake up, dear sister.”

“Sister?” Twilight would inquire further, but she lost her grip and face planted into the bed below her.

“Yes, sister. It’s how we’re related.”

Twilight looked at Luna, and then shook her head in disagreement. “Oh, no, I may be a princess, but I know I’m not related to you.”

Luna’s eyes rolled. “Sometimes I wish that were true.” She turned around to walk out of the room, letting the symbols drop from the air and clash against the ground. “Let’s go, a day of royal duties awaits you.”

Twilight was quick to catch on. “Wait, do you think I’m Princess Celestia?”

The night princess looked back at the perplexed unicorn. “Yes. Why would I think you were anyone else?”

“But I’m not Celestia. I’m Twilight.”

“Ah, I see. Well, whoever you think you are, you still have the royal duties of Princess Celestia to attend to.”

Luna walked out of the bedroom, leaving Twilight alone once again.

“Great. It’s going to be one of those days.”

As far as Celestia could tell, it was about noon before she walked out of the library. She had spent the majority of the morning trying to figure out how to get ready for the day. She had to work through the awkward moments when Spike would stare at her when she combed her hair. She guessed that it was due to the dragon seeing Twilight brushing the air a foot above her head. Celestia didn’t know how this worked.

But after those several hours of awkward self-grooming, she was finally following Spike through the town. From what she could tell, it was still the same old Ponyville from the last time she visited.

“So, where are we starting the Running at this year?”

Spike looked back at the alicorn that was following him. “We’re starting near the lake. I thought you knew this already?”

“Hehe, yeah, I kind of forgot.”

The little dragon shrugged. “This isn’t like you, Twilight. But then again, you usually don’t think you’re Celestia, so I’ll let it slide.”

“Twilight! Spike!” a trio of voices yelled as they came running down from the hills.

“Hey, it’s the CMC.” Spike waved at the incoming trio.

Each member of the group skidded to a halt in front of Celestia’s hooves. “Twilight,” the orange pegasus panted. “We need to tell you something.”

“Ya,” the yellow earth pony continued. “It’s something Sweetie Belle did.”

“Hey, why are you blaming me for this?”

“Because you broke it.”

“No, I was holding it and then Scootaloo bumped into me.”

“Don’t blame me. You were standing in the way. I wouldn’t’ have to run past you if I didn’t need to fix Applebloom’s chalk drawing.”

“The angle was fine. You just couldn’t see straight with all the candle fumes.”

Celestia decided that the self-perpetual bickering had gone on long enough and intervened before somepony got hurt. “Girls, I’m sure whatever happened, it was an accident. Now, what accidently broke?”

The girls looked at each other, waiting for one of themselves to give an answer. Sweetie Belle was the one to reluctantly be pushed out by the other two to volunteer. “Well, we borrowed a magical orb from the library, and it sort of broke.”

“Can I see this orb?”

Applebloom took off the saddlebag off her back and opened it to allow Celestia see the thousands of tiny glass shards that filled it up. “We tried to pick up as much as possible. This is all we could find.”

“That’s perfectly fine. I can fix this, in fact.” Everyone’s’ faces were engulfed by the light of Celestia’s horn. The bag filled with magic, and the glass pieces shifted and stirred in the pack. Soon, the shards merged and formed into a perfect white sphere.

“There you go. Good as new. I hope you it serves you well.”

“You’re not going to take it back?”

“Why would I. I believe that foals should experiment with magic whenever they can, so they can develop a grasp of the world around them.”

“Uh, thanks. We’ll be off then.” And so the trio ran off with the magical orb.

“Twilight, did you just give them the Orb of the Depths?”

“The what?”

“The Orb of the Depths, you’ve been studying it for the past month. It’s supposed to be a key to unleashing an unholy terror upon the land.”

“Hmm… In retrospect, that does sound like that was a bad decision. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“If that is the key to an unholy terror, then I don’t think that’ll be the case.”

“I’m sure the Elements of Harmony can solve whatever happens with that orb.”

“Hey, Twilight,” another voice called out, this time from the air. “We have a bit of a problem.”

The duo on the ground looked up to see a blue pegasus looking down at them. “There’s a cloaked pony walking around. I think he’s here to ruin the Running today.”

“Now that’s a little harsh to judge somepony like that.”

“Then you haven’t met this pony yet.”

“I’m sure this pony is fine. Where is he?”

Celestia and Spike walked to the direction that the pegasus directed them towards. After a small walk, the duo found the cloaked pony sitting by the town’s statue of Celestia. He sat at the statue base with his head hanging down. His cloak looked mangy and filthy. The alicorn could swear she could smell him from where she stood.

Spike gave a confused look as he analyzed the stranger sitting at a focal point of the town. “Well, I can see why he would look dangerous. He’s just sitting there looking creepy.”

“Spike, I believe I remember a friendship report about a similar situation like this. Something to do with a certain Zebra.”

“Yes, I remember that day. And I think Rainbow does too, so why would she think he would be here to ruin the Running?”

“Well, why don’t we ask him?”

Celestia walked up to the stranger by the fountain, who didn’t seem to take notice in her approach. As she got closer, she began to hear a gruff snore coming from the stranger. Would it be rude to wake him up in a situation like this?

“Hello, sir, how are you today?” The stranger gave no response.

Celestia almost introduced herself, but stopped after she realized everypony thought she was Twilight. She mentally readjusted her introduction to fit what everypony thought she was, and continued on. “My name is Twilight Sparkle. What’s yours?”

The stranger still remained unresponsive.

“I don’t mean to rude, but you seem to be creeping out the local royal citizens. Maybe if you just introduced yourself, ponies would feel more secure?”

Celestia only received a gruff snore as a response.

“Excuse me sir,” she poke the stranger’s shoulder, “Are you alright”-

Celestia jumped back as the stranger’s head popped up to look at her, his hood flying off of his head. In all honesty, Celestia wanted the stranger to put the hood back on.

The stranger’s entire face was wrinkled with dirt-brown shading. Looking straight up at the alicorn princess was a triplet of yellow orbs. Surrounding the orbs were several small mandibles filled to the brim with even smaller razor sharp rusty knives. Hundreds of insect legs were sticking out all over the stranger’s face, each withering to grab at the alicorn, who was backing away really slowly.

“Now, sir, ponies don’t usually introduce themselves by scaring the dickens out of other ponies.” Celestia quickened her pace backwards as the stranger gave a hissing noise in response.

“Uh, Twilight, I don’t think that sir has the interests of other ponies in mind- AH!”

Both Spike and Celestia tripped backwards as the stranger leaped up into the air. A pair of buzzing wings zipped him above the duo. “Squish it! Squish it!”

The alicorn only felt it was safe to get up when the stranger landed on the face of her statue counterpart, and even then all she could think of was getting out of there as fast as possible. The hissing further prompted her to use her legs to run away, yet she continued to stumble before she could find any footing.

After a rough start, both Spike and Celestia were running off into the distance. Celestia, being an alicorn, felt like she could run for miles yet never be far enough from the stranger. Spike, on the other hand, felt like he needed a rest before he continued running for his life.

He began to lag behind the princess, putting out a word or two between each pant. “How… are you… going to… deal with… him?”

“I don’t know! Let someone with a giant flyswatter take care of that. Where’s the Running of the Leaves being held at again?”

“By the lake… like I said…. Good idea… we don’t want to be late.”

“Late? Lord, no, that’s not why I want to go. There’s a group there, that thing can’t eat all of us at once. They’ll be a strategic distraction while we run away.”

“If you think you’re Celestia, then is this how you think your mentor acts on a daily basis?”

“Self-preservation is an important part of the survival of any species. I don’t see anything wrong with that. How far are we from the lake?”

“Oh, I’d say a good five miles away. Hey, there’s Applejack.”

“Hey Twilight, I need your help!”

Celestia watched the orange earth pony trotting up to her. “Does it involve a giant insect?”

“Well, no. But it involves Rarity, and I should tell her”-

“Why haven’t you told her what you needed help with?”

“She’s been avoiding me all day.”

“Well, let’s find her and tell her what you need. Spike, bring us to Rarity.”

Spike held a finger out. “Now hold on a minute. Just because I think Rarity is my special some-pony doesn’t mean I have a magical sense that can detect where she is at any time.”

Before Celestia could reply, the little dragon tensed up. His finger that was held out shot to a northern direction and held its position. “Oh for crying out loud, she’s that way.”

And so, Celestia, Spike, and Applejack followed the direction that the little dragon’s arm pointed them to. And low and behold, in a large group that Celestia assumed to be the gathering for the Running, was a white unicorn with a purple mane.

“Now, my little pony, I want you to go to her and talk about your situation. I’m sure this can all be resolved quickly through diplomacy.”

“Twilight, I think this is a situation that requires more action than words.”

“That doesn’t matter. You must always start off negotiations with a base of words. That’s how I deal with most diplomats.”

“Okay, here it goes. Hey, Rarity!”

The unicorn looked out from the crowd to find the group at the edge of the gathering. Her eyes shifted back and forth as if she was internally debating something, but a look of authority took over once she made her decision, and walked out of the crowd.

“Applejack, I need to tell you something.”

“Can it wait, there’s something important we need to get to.”

“Well, let’s say what we both want to say at the same time.”

“Oh for Luna’s sake, fine.”

“On three. One, two… three!”

“I set your house on fire!”

“I got engaged to Big Mac- wait, what?”

The earth pony began to trot towards town. “It’s a funny story. I came by your place earlier to see if you could make me a pair of wings for the race today, just to compete with Rainbow dash. You weren’t there, so I tried to make my own pair, and, well, you know how bad I am with needles.”

“You set my house on fire with needles?!”

“It’s not all bad. I’m sure most of it’s still standing. What did you say about getting engaged to Big Mac?”

“Well, odd story there. We were walking in opposite directions, and we tripped next to each other. I was picking up some valuables that fell out of my bag, and there just so happened to be a ring in a box I dropped. Well, when I picked it up, our eyes met, and it looked like I was proposing. And Big Mac being Big Mac, the poor guy could only say ‘Yep’.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re engaged.”

“That’s the problem, there were witnesses. I didn’t want to embarrass him any further. He looked all shaken up as it was.”

“We’ll deal with that later. House first, wedding later.”

“Right… Wait, wedding?”

And so both Rarity and Applejack ran off to save the unicorn’s real estate, leaving Spike and Celestia alone with a crowd of ponies by a lake.

Spike was the one to break the silence. “Hey, delusional alicorn, shouldn’t you go and help them.”

“I should, but I usually have ponies to do that for me. It’s the perk of being royalty.”

Twilight, despite having all the perks of royalty, didn’t know how to use them effectively. She knew how the Canterlot courts worked through her studies, but she was rather perplexed seeing the courts in practice.

For one thing, she knew there was a chain of command. There was the princess at the top, various political offices below her, so on and so forth. It was supposed to be a very tight nit machine of lower offices reporting to higher offices, but Twilight didn’t see any of that really happening.

Apparently the higher officials never bothered to report to the princess themselves, unless they were schmoozing. The higher officials would have the lower officials do their reporting, so Twilight would often receive multiple reports in one. The unicorn couldn’t fathom how Celestia could manage to keep track of any incoming information, especially when all the conversations were similar to her current one.

“It says here that Senator Law is requesting a decrease in the average prison sentence times, and Representative Law is demanding that they stay at the current levels,” a unicorn explained as he flipped through a clipboard.

Twilight did what she did best in these situations: pick apart the problem with questions. “Why is he even bringing this up? We rarely have crimes anyways.”

“Law has been getting pretty paranoid of the crime as of late, so Law decided to propose the sentencing increase to meet Law’s political platform.”

It was all one big ball of tangled twine to Twilight. “So Law”-

“But Law wants to reject that sentencing because, believe it or not, he has an incarcerated cousin who’s waiting trail and wants to minimize that particular sentencing time.”

It was a big ball of tangle twine with puzzle pieces sticking out all over it. “Then why doesn’t Law”-

“Neither of them can bring this up to debate without Judge Law, and he’s occupied with the Gilda Case.”

“How many Laws”-

“There’s ten Laws in this case, ma’am. So now Captain Law needs to”-

Twilight raised a hoof. The messenger recognized the gesture and immediately became silent. “Out of curiosity, how do you expect anypony to be able to keep track of any of this when there are several ponies with the same name?”

The messenger’s eyes went wide at the question. “I don’t. I always thought you knew what was going on.”

“Why in the world would you think I would be able to keep track of all of that?”

The messenger seemed to shrink a bit, his voice going up an octave. “I don’t know. The nobles were always confused by it, but you always listened to information like that! I thought it was tradition or something.”

“So you’re telling me for the past millennium, this government hasn’t been able to keep track of anything?”

“Well, if we couldn’t keep track of it, and you couldn’t keep track of it, how has the Equestrian government survived all of these years?”

Twilight shrugged. “Duct tape and wishful thinking, apparently.”

The two ponies were interrupted by the doors to the throne room swinging wide open, allowing a Royal Guard to walk in.

“Sorry for the intrusion, your majesty,” the Royal Guard said. “There’s an urgent matter you need to attend to in Fillydelphia.”

“Give me one moment.” She turned back to the messenger. “Tell all the Laws to sort this out themselves. If nopony knew what was going on beforehand, I’m sure they can make something up that’ll solve their problem.”

Twilight looked back at the Royal guard as the messenger scampered away. “What’s wrong in Fillydelphia?”

“We have received reports that the harbor is filled with dead seaweed. It is making it impossible for boats to exit and enter the port.”

“Has anypony been hurt?”

“No, all ponies are fine. Sea trade with the city is being halted, though.”

“I guess it can wait a bit. I’ll fly over and fix it after lunch.”

“You’re going to fly over there and do something?”

“Yes, is something wrong with that?”

“No, but you usually tell me to delegate somepony to fix these kinds of problems.”

“Well, in that case, send the army then.”

“The army, are you sure, your majesty?”

“Yep, send the army. It has a bunch of ponies in it, so they can clear the seaweed faster.”

“But the army isn’t trained to do that.”

“Just find the problem and deal with it. It’s not that hard. Now go and do that.”

“Yes, your majesty.” The Royal Guard began walking out of the room, ordering several of the guards posted to follow him.

When he was gone, and Twilight was alone, she slumped down on her throne, letting out a sigh of relief as another order of business was taken care of for the day.

She was in the middle of rubbing her temples when a messenger earth pony entered the room. “Uh, Princess Celestia,” the pony started as he walked up to the princess, “I have something for you to sing. It’s from Prince Blueblood.” The messenger reached into the saddle back on his back and took out a scroll.

“One thing after another. Can’t I get a break?” Twilight’s magic engulfed the scroll and pulled it through the air towards her face. She unrolled it and began to read its contents. “He wants government funds for the construction of a villa?”

“If you could just sign on the dotted line, please.”

“Why would I want to approve funds from the treasury for a noble’s private villa?”

“I don’t know, but if you could”-

The messenger was interrupted by a scroll getting chucked at his face. “I am not signing that. You can tell Prince Blueblood this is not proper use of federal money. If he does this again, I’ll be pressing embezzlement charges.”

“Yes, your majesty.” He began to walk for the door. However, before he could leave, he was pushed out of the way by a unicorn that rushed in form the outside hallway.

“Hey, I’m not being assaulted!” the unicorn exclaimed triumphantly.

“Excuse me, but are you supposed to be in here?” the princess inquired.

Ignoring Twilight, the unicorn poked his head out of the doorway and yelled down the hallway. “Hey, everyone! The guards are gone! Talk to the princess now before they come back!”

Twilight gulped when she thought she heard a stampede coming down the hallway. Before she could say anything, the throne room was being flooded with random ponies. The ponies that rushed in flipped over everything that stood in their way between them and the princess.

The princess was bombarded by a wall of demands, each pony yelled at the top of their lungs just to get overheard through the slog of thousands of other voices.

Twilight took off into the air before the throne was swamped by a wave of pony bodies. She looked down to see a sea of chattering mouths looking back up at her with expecting gazes.

Although Twilight could hear each and every demand, she couldn’t make out what they were since they were being said at the same time.

“Enough!” the princess yelled out. Slowly, the demands of the crowd began to die down. After a minute, the room was completely silent.

“I can see you all have something to say to me, but you can’t all say it at once. So, here’s how we’re going to do it. I’ll point my hoof at you, and you tell me what you want, then we’ll move on.”

The crowd nodded with understanding, and Twilight pointed a hoof at the first pony. “Princess Celestia! I need money for my business!”

“I’ll take that into consideration.” Her hoof moved to the next pony.

“Princess Celestia! I need you to increase the rainfall!”

She pointed to the next pony. “I need you to decrease the rainfall!”

Next pony. “Extend the day, please!”

Next pony. “Extend my property lease!”

So on and so forth. “I want a new house!”

“I want a new moose!”

“Will you marry me?”

“I want my boss to pay me more!”

“I want my alicorn sister to stop complaining when I draw smiley faces on the sun!”

“Why are you here, Luna?

“I have just as much right to be here as you do, bucko!”

“Alright, this is going nowhere.” Twilight threw her hoofs into the air, where she inadvertently pointed at a pegasus that was flying above her.

“Can you give me a new bike?” asked the pegasus.

“I said enough. We’re not doing that anymore. None of these problems need a princess to solve.”

A random earth pony popped out from the crowd. “Then why are we all here?”

“I don’t know why you’re here. But if you desperately need a princess, then I have a solution to all of your problems!”

She rubbed her hooves together and pointed randomly to the crowd towards a unicorn mare. “You’re a princess now!”

Before the new princess could celebrate, Twilight pointed to a stallion. “And you’re a princess now!”

As the stallion checked to make sure he should be referred to as a prince instead, the princess in the air pointed at Luna. “And you’re a- wait, you’re already a princess.”

“Oh $%# you! I make your breakfast!”

Twilight stretched her limbs out for the crowd, as if she was embracing every one of them. “And by royal decree, you are all now princesses! Every pony in the land is a princess now! Now go solve your own problems.”

The crowd began to empty out from the room, each member making plans for their newfound titles.

Twilight continued to hover, ensuring that each pony made it out of the room. “There. That should solve my problems for a while.”

From what she could gather, Celestia thought the Running of the Leaves was supposed to start around noon. It was two o’clock at this point, and nothing started yet. She was just standing with a group of ponies waiting for somepony to say start.

That’s not to say she wasn’t enjoying herself. In fact, Princess Celestia was glad to be outside of the castle without anyone panicking that she wasn’t inside the castle. At least, she thought no one was panicking. The lake they were standing next to seemed to be doing its job of looking nice, so there was no reason to panic about that.

Nice vista aside, it was obvious to the alicorn that something was going on, so she decided some initiative was needed. “Spike, do you know what’s going?”

The little dragon shook his head. “I know as much about this as you do.”

“Do you know who’s in charge? They should know what’s going on.”

Spike just stared at her, as if he expected her to know everything that was going on.

“Don’t give me that look. I’m having an off day. I may have forgotten a few names here and there.”

“Twilight… You’re the one in charge. You volunteered months ago.”

“Oh…” Then all the realization hit her in the face. “Oooohhhh. So we’ve been standing here for two hours because I haven’t done anything?”

“Yep.”

“Do you think I should start the event?”

“Standing here won’t start anything.”

“Right.” Celestia strode out of the crowd towards the starting line, where a box was lying for her to get on top of.

“Attention everypony!” A sea of heads was suddenly looking at her. “Thank you for coming and thank you for your patience. We will begin momentarily. Please take your positions at the starting line.”

“No you will not!” called out a white stallion, who was standing next to Celestia. He wasn’t a local pony, so nobody at the event knew who he was, except Celestia. She knew him as Prince Blueblood.

“You are all hereby ordered to immediately leave Ponyville,” he continued. “It is now my private property, and you all are trespassing!”

“Excuse me, Prince Blueblood,” Celestia interrupted him, “You’re not allowed to do something like that.”

“Actually, I am. As of 12:36 today, I’m officially a princess. And for his first royal decree, Princess Blueblood declares Ponyville his private property.”

“That’s absurd. Unless one of the real princesses tells me otherwise, you are not allowed to do this.”

From the crowd, a random pony shouted at the sky, “Hey, Princess Celestia if here.”

Everyone looked up to see Princess Celestia, who was actually Twilight Sparkle, fly down and land at the starting line.

“Good day, my little ponies,” she beamed out to the crowd. “I hope I didn’t miss anything.”

Princess Celestia, the real one posing as Twilight, grabbed the newcomer’s attention. “Princess… Twilight, correct?”

Twilight nodded. “Yes, I figured you were me.”

“So that’s sorted out. Now why is Prince Blueblood now Princess Blueblood?”

“I declared everyone in Equestria a princess a couple of hours ago.”

“You gave everyone in Equestria the absolute power of a Princess?”

“Yes, was that a bad idea?”

“Actually, no. If everyone’s a princess, then it all legally balances out.” Celestia (posing as Twilight) gave Princess Blueblood a nasty look. “But that does ruin the sanctity of the original princesses.”

“I’ll fix that later. For now, let’s enjoy the Running of the Leaves!”

“Princess! I have urgent news!” Princess Celestia, Princess Twilight, and Princess Blueblood looked up to see a Royal Guard pegasus blitzing towards the royal trio.

“What’s the problem?”

The pegasus landed in front of who he thought was Princess Celestia. “We sent the army to Fillydelphia like you said, and they decided poking at the water in the bay with spears would be the best way to clear the seaweed.”

“Did it work?”

“Well, yes and no. The seaweed’s gone, but it’s because it was stuck to the back of Godzilla.”

“Godzilla?”

“Yes, we angered him with the spear poking. Now he’s heading straight for Ponyville!”

“Send the army to stop him then.”

“We tried, but they were so awed by Godzilla that they broke out some popcorn and watched him rampage through the city.”

“Wow, we have a poorly trained army.” Twilight gave a sly look to Celestia. “But to be fair, I would probably do that too if I worked for the government.”

“Twilight!” A trio of fillies ran up to who they thought was Twilight. “We need our help.”

Celestia (posing as Twilight) asked, “What happened this time?”

“We accidentally summoned Cthulu.”

“How did you manage that?”

“Well, we used the orb you fixed”-

“You gave them the Orb of the Depths?!” Twilight (looking like Celestia) roared against Celestia.

Celestia (posing as Twilight) shrank back and shrugged. “I thought they were using it for educational purposes. Hey, look, Godzilla!”

From the east side of the lake, a gargantuan reptilian body lined with giant spines towered above the tree line. Autumn leaves fell from their branches with each footstep the lizard made.

“Hey, look, Cthulu!” a random pony from the crowd called out.

From the west side of the lake, an enormous Lovecraftian horror stood out like a mountain above the forest. Mounds of dirt flew out from the tree line with each of its steps. Massive wings flared out as tentacles withered around from the horror’s face.

Twilight leaned within earshot of Celestia. “Shouldn’t we do something about this?”

“Maybe later,” the alicorn replied, throwing a hoof full of popcorn into her mouth. “You don’t get to see giant monsters fight that often. Though I guess if you’re offended by giant monster fights then you can leave. Nothing else is going to happen in this story anyways.”

Both of the monsters halted when their gazes locked onto each other. They sized each other up from their respective sides of the lake, silently daring the other to make the first move.

Godzilla grew impatient and started off with a roar that was so loud that it shattered the nearby trees into splinters. He leaned forward and charged full speed for his opponent.

Cthulu responded with a roar of his own, which was less of a roar and more akin to the sound of millions of souls crying out at once in agony. He too leaned forward to charge at his opponent.

Each monster raced to the center of the lake. Torrents of water launched into the air as both creatures stomped into the aquatic body. They rammed into each other with their own tsunamis crashing over their bodies.

Godzilla gave an uppercut to Cthulu’s jaw, sending the horror reeling back. He went in for another punch, but Cthulu parried the giant lizard arm with a punch and used his octopus head to ram Godzilla in the chest.

Cthulu followed by tackling his adversary, flapping his wings to give him extra force. Godzilla stumbled backwards into the lake, creating a splash so big that half of the lake’s water was sent flying across the forest.

With the giant lizard pinned down, the Lovecraftian horror began to wail on him with repeated blows to the face with his massive claws. Each blow emitted a thud that shook the watching pony audience off their seats. Godzilla futilely attempted to wave off the fists, but Cthulu kept on too much pressure to allow the lizard to do anything.

When it looked like the overgrown iguana was finally down for the count, his head lashed out for the next incoming fist. A set of jaws that could bite through a mountain latched onto Cthulu’s arm, halting the attack.

Cthulu roared as he tried to punch Godzilla in the head to loosen his bite, but the lizard’s jaw crushed down harder. He jerked his head down and tore off his adversary’s arm, which splashed down into the lake.

The Lovecraftian horror roared as he stumbled back, using his remaining arm to hold onto his wound, trying to keep millions of consumed souls from flowing out and flying off into the aether.

Using this as his chance, Godzilla went in for his own barrage of punches. With his arm occupied, Cthulu had nothing to block with and could only take the punches. He retreated backwards to try to get out of the lizard’s range.

He flared out his wings in preparation for flight. Godzilla saw what he was doing and grabbed Cthulu’s bat appendages. The horror saw this as an opening and used his arm to strike the lizard in the throat. The giant claws let go of the wings, and Cthulu took flight.

With each flap of his wings, a gale force struck the forest below, blowing away all the leave on the trees and sending the few ponies not strapped down flying. Cthulu rose high above Godzilla’s striking range, taunting him with his own ghastly roar.

The giant lizard reached down into the lake to pick up a submerged boulder. He chucked the rock at his adversary, who swung outwards to dodge the projectile. Cthulu swooped down for the forest and tore out a grove of trees with his claw.

The winged horror made a wide arc around the lake, circling in closer to the gargantuan monster standing in the middle of it. Godzilla continued to chuck boulders into the air, barely missing the flying monster with every shot.

After dodging several boulders, Cthulu dived for the lake. He chucked the grove of trees at Godzilla’s face, temporarily blinding him. The flying monster leveled off, lifting his mountain feet to ram into the lizard. Godzilla flew back as he took the impact in his gut.

The lizard crashed into the lake shore, digging his spines deep into the earth and sending clumps of dirt flying high into the air. Cthulu’s feet landed on top of Godzilla’s claws, pinning down his main form of attack. The Lovecraftian horror reeled his arm back, winding up as much as possible for a final blow.

To the ponies watching the throw down at the lake, it seemed to be the end for Godzilla. However, the giant lizard still had a trick up his sleeve. Before Cthulu could strike, he hesitated when a light appeared from the back of Godzilla’s throat. When Cthulu realized what the light was, it was too late.

The Lovecraftian horror twisted his body and swung his fist with full force, but it wasn’t fast enough for Godzilla. In a single moment, the light in the back of his throat condensed into a single point. Just as Cthulu’s fist was about to make contact, a behemoth beam of light shot out from the lizard’s mouth. A shockwave blasted across the land as the beam superheated the air and cracked the sound barrier.

The light burnt through Cthulu’s fist, up his arm, through his upper torso, and engulfed his octopus head. The beam left nothing when it died out, leaving only a hole where the light made contact with the monster.

Cthulu’s body went limp and fell backwards, sending a splash of water across forest. Those who were remaining in the pony audience cheered as the victor rose from the shore.

“Celestia, you do know we have to deal with Godzilla now, right?”

Twilight’s eyes shrunk in horror. “Oh… crud.”

Author's Note

Written for the EQD WTG #7 for the episode... whatever the name of the episode is that came after "Pinkie Pride". Criticisms encouraged as always. If you were confused by the ending of the chapter, you have a right to be, mostly because this was written when Georgia was iced for a week. I was 1k short of the 7k limit when I panicked and turned on some Rob Zombie. If I had a higher allotted word count, I would probably wrap up all the plot points at the lake, but I didn't think that could be done in only 1000 words. So instead, you all had the pleasure of learning which infamous monster would win in a battle.

Musical Victor’s Multiversal Merch-n-Vendors

Musical Victor’s Multiversal Merch-n-Vendors
By A Random Guy

Ever since the rise of the two alicorn princesses, ponies have been questioning Celestia’s rule. Often the questions are simple and receive simple answers. For instance, “Why did you send your sister to the moon?” a pony asks. “Because she was being a naughty girl,” she would reply. “Are you eating cakes by the boatload?” “Don’t worry about it, it’s helping the economy.” “Why are my insides not inside me right now?” “Because you ask too many questions.”

But there was always one question that she could never find the proper answer for. “Why do you have a magical flowing mane?”

Why did she have a magical flowing mane? She was only asked this thrice in her lifetime. The first time wasn’t a question in context but an observation inserted into the middle of a love ballad. The pony that wrote that love ballad may have gone off and tormented the Crystal Empire, but seeing Sombra’s face when the power of the sun obliterated his grand piece of work that he poured all his heart into (literally), it gave Celestia a chuckle that day.

The second time she heard the question was when she was touring an industrial complex somewhere high in Cloudsdale. A little filly pegasus had asked that time, though Celestia was more interested in why a filly was in a factory. Before she could ask in return, a bunch of chains pulled the little filly pegasus into a large machine that went “BRRRRM”. Celestia didn’t know what happened to her, but she did remember seeing a rainbow outside of the factory that reminded the princess of the little filly pegasus.

The third time a pony inquired about her mane was when Twilight Sparkle sent a letter inquiring about the subject. The question was squeezed in between a lot of other questions concerning royal duties that the sun princess had little concern about. In fact, she was more shocked that Twilight was asking questions about how to run a government. Celestia didn’t even know there was a government.

As to why Twilight was inquiring about her mane, she understood why, somewhat. On the morning of the Great Monster Fight of ’95, Twilight had found herself magically inserted in the position of Princess Celestia, and vice versa. It would sound as if all of Equestria would flip on its head over this, but it didn’t. Nothing really changed from that day, anyways. Twilight couldn’t find a way to switch them back, so Celestia acted as Twilight in the Ponyville Library, and nopony seemed to complain.

But the letter with the question regarding Celestia’s mane did raise an interesting point the princess hadn’t considered. Although everyone in Ponyville thought she was the local librarian, she still maintained her physical body for some reason. Having the same body still meant having to care for everything that was a part of it, including her mane.

Over the last few days, she took notice of the hairs of her mane exit their eternally flowing magical state and turn to a physical form that drooped over her neck. She didn’t like her physical hair, it made her itch. Her bottle of Extra Strength Super Power Shampoo was still in the royal bath chambers at Canterlot Castle, preventing her from rectifying her itchy mane.

Celestia decided that this was a good time to go shopping for a refill. She could easily find a generic variant of what she wanted at any local grocery store, but she was a slave to her favorite brand (With good reason, generic brands tend to be more explosive). Unfortunately, her brand could only be found at a store that didn’t have outlets in her world.

And that store was where she was at right now. Musical Victor’s Multiversal Merch-n-Vendors, as it was called, was notorious for having stores located only in the multiverse void. Celestia didn’t mind the walking distance to the place, though she could do without the sky-high price inflations that plagued the pretentious establishment.

The interior of the place wasn’t special in any way. There were isles of towering shelves that stretched far back towards the near-infinite expanse that was the back of the store. The florescent lighting from the ceiling gave the linoleum floors a dull sheen. The cashier standing behind the counter swiped items across a scanner with a steady rhythm as the line extending from the counter decreased in size, one creature at a time.

Celestia, bottle of shampoo beside her, was the second creature from the cashier, the first being a purple stallion with a bowler cap. The stallion was taking his time arguing over the astronomical cost of a few spoons. They were ordinary spoons, the kind that would be five bits at any other store and the stallion probably knew it. Valued customers could care less about the products, arguing over the prices was the entire point of Musical Victor’s.

Musical Victor’s was a specialty store, with the specialty being arguing. The store uses its venue in the multiverse void to bend the laws of physics to create situations that are guaranteed to cause quarrels. Want an item that’s low on stock? The store’s quantum mechanics will pair you up with someone else from the far distant future so you can fight it out over the last box of Chippos! Want paraphernalia for a sports team? It can be found conveniently next to the paraphernalia of your sports team’s arch-nemesis, and your arch nemesis who is buying said paraphernalia! Have everything you want to buy? Try to convince the cashier that the 90% coupon for the 100 bit candy bar hasn’t expired in the Griffon Kingdom. Heck, you could even have an argument on how Musical Victor’s Multiversal Merch-n-Vendors has a misleading name (That argument is complementary).

Celestia knew from past experience that an argument was guaranteed, but they could take a long time to kick in. There were at least several times when a store visit lasted the entire day, but the argument occurred only after Celestia got back to Canterlot. At least it was a good argument, being between her and a royal guard and revolving around the topic of a pay raise. She won the argument, but only after convincing the guard that accidentally falling off a mountain in the line of duty wasn’t worth it.

The pony in front of her was definitely having a good long argument for sure. You were going to get an argument, but sometimes it had to wait after another argument. Fortunately, Celestia came prepared.

The sun princess teleported a sandwich into existence, or nonexistence depending on how you view the multiverse void, which technically was nonexistent. It was an ordinary sandwich, the kind that Spike said he made for Twilight all the time. It might seem rude to eat while waiting in line behind somepony, but it was the kind of rude that would get you into an argument, which was exactly what Celestia was going for.

She took a bite out of the sandwich, which tasted like it was oversaturated with olives. She knew Twilight loved olives, but she didn’t know she would go so far as to have Spike make olive flavored bread. It had an interesting taste for sure, so interesting that she was having second thoughts about eating it. It didn’t matter to her, though. A little loud munching would surely bug the heck out of somepony, which was a surefire way to-

OH LUNA that’s nasty!

That backstabbing sandwich exploded in her mouth with the violent taste of Tatarus! A blast from her gag reflex heaved the morsel out of her mouth, sending it flying across the store. Fortunately, she turned her head away from the line, so her little spew only splattered across the linoleum floor. She stretched her tongue out as far as possible, desperately scrapping at it with her hooves to cleanse her pallet of the forsaken lunch. Nothing as homicidally vicious had entered her royal mouth since the Curtain War of ’62, when she was playing around with a few Bronxican plants and a cake.

After a few minutes of scratching out her mouth with a chainsaw and gargling with bleach (Alicorns can do that, they’re immortal), she was left with a feint aftertaste of bitter passive-aggressive warfare as the bleach finished up its job. The stallion in front of her was too engrossed in his argument to seem to notice the spectacle that occurred behind him, which is a testament to how involving Musical Victor’s arguments were.

Having lost her only item of entertainment, Celestia was left to stand silent as she waited for her turn to come up to buy her shampoo. She looked around her surroundings for something to catch her eye, which wasn’t too hard to do. Her gaze settled upon a peculiar sign that was nailed to the ceiling.

It took a bit of squinting for Celestia to make out the words on the sign, which read, “Caution: Please keep eyes forward. Due to quantum mechanical malfunctions, persons in front of you may change when unobserved.”

Ha! What a silly sign, Celestia thought. Making a joke about quantum mechanics and results changing when observed, that’s funny. Putting a sign in the oddest place where someone would only see it if they disobeyed it, also funny. That was a good laugh. Now, is the pony in front of me done- where’d this couch come from?

Now standing in place where the stallion used to be was a large, torn-up, red couch, handing the required bits over to purchase an enormous can of Goat-be-Gone. The couch seemed to be one of those couches that would become relevant in the near future, but she didn’t care about that.

What she did care about was the fact that the couch made its purchase quite quickly. AS soon as the cashier gave it the receipt, the cushions engulfed the can and the couch flew off with its purchase, leaving the spot in front of the cashier wide open for Celestia to occupy.

“Hello, I would like to buy this bottle of shampoo,” she said as she walked up to the desk and placed the bottle in front of the cashier.

“That’ll be seventy-five bits,” the cashier replied.

“Don’t I receive my princess discount?”

“I’d need to see identification for that.”

A small square of plastic magically popped into existence/nonexistence on top of the desk. After analyzing the plastic for a couple of seconds, the cashier shook her head as she decided that the information on the plastic didn’t match up.

“What’s wrong?”

“This identity is for Twilight Sparkle. You don’t look like a Twilight Sparkle to me.”

“Oh, sorry about that.” The sun princess magicked another piece of plastic into existence, this time with the correct information. “I’ve been having an identity crisis at home. Didn’t know which card to bring in.”

“Yes, this looks like the correct card.” The cashier slipped the card back to Celestia. “But I’m afraid we discontinued the princess discount for your universe.”

“What do you mean discontinued?”

“It’s just discontinued. I got the notice this morning.”

Celestia, being taller than most ponies, stared down the cashier. “I am a princess. Princesses always get discounts.”

“Not from your universe. Apparently, Princess Celestia declared everypony a princess last week, so the discount loses its value if everypony in that universe claims to be eligible for the discount.”

“I’m Princess Celestia, and I did not say anything like that.”

“Well, the royal decree came from a Princess Celestia. There was a courtroom filled with ponies that witnessed the decree.”

“That was Twilight Sparkle posing as me. The decree had no authority backing it up.”

“It doesn’t matter who Princess Celestia was at the time. She declared it as Princess Celestia, so now it’s the law of that particular universe.”

“Well, as you can see from my identification, I am the real Princess Celestia, so I revoke the decree and demand my discount.”

“Alright, no one in that universe can become a princess now, but you still don’t get the discount.”

“No, I’m declaring that the royal decree to make everyone a princess is null and void, and to bring back the discount by extension.”

“You’re not able to revoke titles of equal or greater stature.”

“I’m a freaking princess! I should be able to remove any title I want!’

A grey mare with butterfly wings that was waiting behind Celestia in line interrupted the exchange. “Excuse me, I don’t mean to interject, but what universe are you from?”

Celestia paused for a bit in thought before she replied. “Uh, I think my ID said Compilation. I’m not familiar with universe names, so I wouldn’t know exactly.”

The mare’s mouth grew into a large smile. “Are you kidding? That’s my home universe!” Her butterfly wings gave a large flap and sprung the mare into the air, sending her spiraling above Celestia. “That means I’m a princess!”

“Well, have fun with that. You’re not going to get the discount either.”

“Oh I couldn’t care less about that!” She halted to a hover as a question came to mind. “Does this mean I have authority over ponies of other universes?”

Celestia shrugged. “To an extent.”

“Awesome! That means I can bass around my boss now!”

“Yes, that’s lovely.” The princess of the sun turned back to the cashier pony. “How about my senior discount? I’m over a millennium, I should get something for that.”

“You do, but I need an age-meter to verify that. Please wait patiently to the side while an attendant brings one over so we can process other customers.”

“Sure, but I better get my discount.”

Celestia stepped off to the side to let the mare with butterfly wings talk to the cashier. “I have a Tatzlwurm infestation at home. I need something to get rid of the buggers.”

“We have a spray for that.” The cashier pulled out a bottle from under the counter. “Just hold down the button, throw it into your house, wait a night, and they’ll all be dead in the morning.”

“Cool, how much?”

“Three hundred bits.”

“How much will my princess discount take off if I use it with my pity card?”

“Then it’s free and we give you five pits back.”

“Wait, what?” Celestia interrupted. “How come she gets the princess discount but I don’t? I’m the real princess here!”

“She has the pity card, ma’am. All card holders that possess one can redeem any discontinued discount and receive a percentage of that discount back in cash.”

“Then I want my pity card too!”

“I’m afraid only employees of Galactica receive pity cards.”

Celestia turned to the mare. “And what makes you so special that you get your own pity card?”

The mare shrugged. “Working for Galactica rewards pity. Trust me, this doesn’t make it even half worth it. Stay a librarian, Twilight. You have no idea how much better that is than my job.” She shook the can, listening to the swish of the liquid inside. “So, I just spray this and it kills Tatzlwurms?”

“Miss Butterflywings, I’m not Twilight, I’m Celestia!”

“You look like Twilight, though.”

“Did you not hear any of the conversation we just had?”

“Yeah, everyone’s a princess, break out the tiaras and frilly dresses, we’re having a ball tonight. How pressurized is this can?”

Before Celestia could reply, the mare pressed the button on the can, letting out a cloud of metallic tasting spray that engulfed the princess’s face. “Blah! What was that for?”

“Sorry about that. I had no idea it would do that.”

“It’s a pressurized bottle of chemicals! Of course it would do that! DO you even know what that stuff will do to a pony?”

Celestia, the cashier, nor the mare knew what the bottle of chemicals did to a pony’s complexion, but through the magic of narration, you do!

Contained in the bottle is about 16oz (fluid) of pressurized giant flower nectar. It’s actually quite harmless to ponies, but is quite lethal to Tatzlwurms for some reason. Yet, the giant worms are attracted to the scent. Scientists don’t know exactly why, but they assume the nectar has chemicals that are similar in composition to Tatzlwurm mating pheromones, making it a natural Tatzlwurm trap.

Celestia did not know this. Nor did she know she should have washed the stuff off immediately. Unfortunately, she did not.

And that’s how everyone almost got eaten by a Tatzlwurm. Keyword is almost, since this was Musical Victor’s Multiversal Merch-n-Vendors, and quantum mechanics are all messed up there, and the Tatzlwurm had a quantum mechanical malfunction since no one was able to observe it before it ate everyone.

So everything got eaten by Godzilla instead.

Author's Note

Written for therapeutic purposes, not a WTD this time. My stat teacher can go &*$% and %)# 'cause he can't teach for @#)** %(*$. My mom, on the other had, spend an hour with her and you can learn more about stat than what the other ()*&&# can teach in a year. That was also therapeutic.

Critiques encouraged. In fact, critiques are required for you to graduate.

They're not actually, but apparently everything I'm supposed to be doing is required for something that will get me into college, so thanks for the three teaches that don't get the meaning of putting it on the backburner!

My stat teacher is a $(&*%, but surprisingly he wasn't one of those three. He's still a $(&*%. If you find an error, I'll gladly correct it. I you want to think of a cool psychological thing, the Critique line is right in between two angry rants, so your attention goes right towards it if you just glance at the author's note. It wont' work now because you'll have that idea in your head now, but if you didn't read this that's what you'll do.

End of Things That Came

End of Things to Come
By A Random Guy

Camión Lechero, Teniente of the Bronxican Imperial Army, counted tonight as the twenty eighth night he served the border patrol along the neutral zone. It had been less than a month since he finished boot camp, and it was less than a month since the last assault along the border. He was a victim of pure circumstance, holding the lowest rank on the military ladder in the military that needed position replacements for the border patrol.

His night started with him climbing up the crumbling concrete that made up the steps of the watch tower. When he got to the top, he would begin following his military orders for the night, which meant looking out of a large slit in the concrete bunker and calling in an alert if anything suspicious happened in the zone. He couldn’t think of a more unnerving job in the entire armed forces.

When he stepped into the bird nest of the tower, everything looked like it always did, ancient, broken and cold. The stone walls of the bunker, which may have held against the mightiest assaults decades ago, were chipped and cracked with several large holes within the concrete. No one had a chance to clean up the place, as indicated by the walls, which were decorated by the imprints of past ponies permanently outlined by circles of soot. There wasn’t an artificial light in the room, since such a device would give away the position of the guard pony during the night, and would provide the same guard with a source of warmth. Pastel forbid if Camión was provided with such a courtesy.

Relatively high off the ground, the tower was exposed to all of the nightly winds that the palm trees outside rustled in, which entered the bunker through the missing chunks of wall, each gust bringing in a temperature drop that would freeze him to the bone. Camión’s appointed uniform was optimized for a tropical climate, which forgoes the need for jackets. Normally, regulation dictated that he would have to stand attention while on duty, but since there were never any officers to ensure that he followed regulation, Camión usually curled up in the corner least exposed to wind.

Like every other night he was at the border, Camión walked over to his corner, which was to the right of the slit in the concrete he was supposed to be looking through. He slumped down against the corner, balling up to shield himself against the relentless breeze. His breathing shuddered as he braced himself against the chill of darkness. He rubbed his hooves between his legs to create precious warmth from the friction.

His body tempted him to attempt to rest his eyes, despite the cold. But for his own sake, keeping in mind where he was located in the world, he forced himself to keep his watch on the field, lest he let a guerilla force overrun the tower and execute all within, among those being him.

When he first arrived at the border, his commanding officer joked that the tower had the best view in the entire base at night. If it wasn’t for his situation, Camión would have certainly agreed. The horizon was lined with distant specks of light, forming a cosmic serpent that slithered across the void of evening darkness. He paid close attention to each of the specks, unknowingly holding his breath every time one so much as flickered. He knew that each speck topped off a tower similar to his, well outside of artillery range.

It reminded him of his home, in a way. His childhood home, El Stabledor, was quite similar, albeit significantly less prone to be ground zero for an enemy push. It was a small city lining a valley deep within Bronxico. He remembered spending nights similar to this on top of the local mountains, earning front row seats for a long day of trekking, staring at the valley floor that was surrounded by darkness, broken by the city lights strung along the base of the mountains.

This, however, was not El Stabledor. The only mountains were a pair of ancient walls staring each other down, the valley was a flat plain that spanned miles across the horizon, plagued by a pattern of craters, and the city would blow apart anything that came within striking distance.

In fact, even looking at the lights too long was beyond advisable for him. Being a white unicorn, he stood out against the darkness of his bunker. Keep his head out too long, and a passing clandestine scout could gain a story of how he separated the horn of a unicorn from the rest of his cranium.

Camión, being a soldier, was forced to stand the night. Every day he had only this position to look forward too. His superiors kept telling his that a promotion could put him into a more bearable position, but they always were vague on what would earn him that promotion. He was beginning to suspect that the army wanted to keep him here, since everyone thought boarder guards didn’t last long enough to earn promotions.

The trees outside rustled as a large breeze passed over them. Camión curled up tighter as he braced himself form the incoming gust. As he drew in his limbs as tight as he could, the wind currents swept over him, bringing the cold heart of the night temperatures. His skin felt like it was going to be torn off from the icy breeze. The song of the breeze whistled through the bunker, Camión’s teeth chattered to its tune, just like they did every night. These were his afterhours at the border, only the serpent of lights slithering across the horizon keeping him company.

Yet, there was another tune signing along to the winter breeze. It was a high pitched tune, feint at first, but becoming more noticeable as the wind died down. Camión couldn’t think of what was making the new noise. He could only describe it as a tiny squeak, something that was foreign to his ears.

Paranoia struck him, and he ducked from the slit to avoid being hit by a mystery weapon being pointed at his bunker. His breath froze within him, his adrenal glands flooding his bloodstream with its respective chemical, prepping him for a fight or flight scenario. He heard stories of soldiers hearing odd sounds in combat zones, only to fall prey to an enemy unicorn’s magic.

Ducking didn’t seem to make the sound go away. In fact, the sound increased itself by a couple of octaves. Camión searched frantically around, trying to find a glow that would indicate the presence of a unicorn charging its horn. All the holes in the walls remained dark, nothing seemed to be coming from the slit, and the stairway remained as lightless as he left it. Then a speck of yellow caught his eye.

His gaze locked on to the color, which was located in the back corner to his left. At first glance, it seemed as if a small round object got itself caught in a spider web. But the yellow object shuddered, the gossamer material he thought was a web shifted around. The object in the middle was shrouded by an intricate network of silvery lines.

When his eyes finally focused on the object, it became apparent that it was the source of the squeaks. Despite common sense, curiosity overtook the poor unicorn. He crawled over towards the back corner, keeping his movements subtle to avoid alerting an unknown enemy.

As he got closer, the squeaking became louder, little by little. He inched his way towards the corner, keeping a steady slow pace in case the object was movement sensitive. When it was within reaching distance, the unicorn reached out with a hoof and poked at the object, not knowing what else to do. He almost jumped back when a pair of eyes popped out from the yellow ball.

A tiny head rose from the ball, its eyes locking with Camión’s, the squeaking ceased to fill the air. What creature is this? He thought. Is it a spying device?

The little ball squeaked some more, which to Camión seemed like it was speaking Bronxican. “Hello, there,” it seemed to say. A tiny limb pulled its gossamer web closer to its body. “Please don’t take my wings.”

“Why would I take your wings?” he replied.

Its limb began massaging the web. “Some ponies have been tracking me down for weeks. You might be one of those ponies.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not one of them. I’m a soldier of the Bronxican Army. I’m sworn to protect the weak.”

The little creature seemed to chuckle. “Nice to know you think I’m weak. Protecting the weak… Everypony seems to say that- Achoo!”

It shuddered as another gust of wind passed through the bunker. Camión felt like he needed to do something, so eh reached out to bring the creature in for an embrace, which had to be warmer than out of the open. However, the creature’s head lashed out from its web and bit his hoof when it got close, sending his limb reeling back in pain. “I said not to take my wings.”

“I wasn’t taking your wings. I wanted to share my body warmth with you.” He shook his hoof as he tried to deal with the pain the little nip brought him. “You seemed to be in need of it.”

The creature looked away sheepishly. “Oh, well you did it without telling me. A little warning would’ve been nice.”

The creature’s web opened up to reveal a pair of transparent wings. It fluttered them to gain some air, and glided over to Camión, who let the creature land on the base of his neck. The creature folded its wings up again, protecting itself from the elements.

“So, what are you?” he asked as he curled up against the wall, keeping in mind of the creature, folding his forelegs over it to protect it from the wind, yet leaving enough room for it to move comfortably.

The little creature rubbed its limbs together in an effort to keep itself warm. “I’m a breezy.”

“I never heard of a breezy before.” He never even imagined anything like a breezy before either. The creature’s tiny pony body looked surreal to him, with its head and legs being comically oversized for its body. Its wings reminded him of a giant insect more than a mythical horse creature. “Is there a name I should call you by?”

The breezy looked up from its rubbing. “Depends, do you have a name I should call you by?”

“Camión Lechero, Teniente of the Bronxican Imperial Army.” He checked the horizon outside of the slit to make sure all was normal in the outside world.

The breezy puffed a few breaths of warm air between its limbs and proceeded rubbing them together. “Mine’s Star Wisp. So, lovely night we’re having.”

“Heh, doesn’t get any better than this.” Feeling some of his extremities going numb, he rubbed the sides of his legs in an attempt to revert the feeling. “You mentioned something about ponies following you. Is it something that I should be concerned about?”

Star shook her head. “Lost them yesterday. They don’t have the spells to track me across the border before I’m deep within the Bronxican interior.”

“So they’re Equestrian?”

She nodded. “Some nasty ones, too. If you see some ponies in black cloaks, keep your distance. They’re vicious close up.”

“Sounds familiar,” Camión replied, leaning his head back as he tried to remember what he heard about such ponies. “Legends of cloaked ponies spinning, slashing, and dancing through brigades of the best soldiers, as if they were preforming on a stage. Are those the one’s you’re talking about?”

She nodded again. “Yep, I saw one carve up a couch trying to look for me within seconds. All that was left were splinters and stuffing.”

“Do you know why they want your wings?”

Star shrugged. “I didn’t listen to the details while I was flying for my live.”

“Ah, I see.” The conversation broke down, leaving the wind singing alone in the night. Star Wisp curled up tight against Camión’s body. Camión continued his duty of looking out across the outside world. It felt odd having another soul accompanying him during his shift. It was a good odd, since the soul wasn’t another member of a military, providing him with a different taste of company since he was drafted. Also, the breezy tickled when she moved, so there was that kind of oddness.

“So, are they tracking down other breezies for their wings?” he asked, attempting to break the silence.

Star Wisp looked away, her leg rubbing died down as she brought her legs inwards. A moment passed before she said anything.

“They can’t,” she replied, with solemn hanging from her words.

Camión sensed this may be traveling into a dark place for the breezy. “Did something happen?”

“There… hasn’t been another breezy in this world since… since the last migration, when I was left behind.” Star looked out of the slit towards the emptiness of the nightly void. “That was decades ago, when politics finally broke out into violence.”

Camión couldn’t tell exactly, but through the dark he thought he could see a small tear running down the breezy’s face. “Have they been hunting you down for that long?”

“No, *sniff*, they started a couple of days ago, when they discovered where I was hiding. But I have a feeling they’ve been searching for much longer than that.”

The unicorn soldier tightened his embrace, but still left room for the breezy to move. “Don’t worry about them. As a soldier of the Bronxican Army, I swear not to let an Equestrian even touch you.”

Star Wisp gave the soldier a smile. To his surprise, the yellow breezy grasped his forelegs and pulled them in for a tighter embrace. She snuggled in between his limbs and body, fully emerging herself in the stallion’s warmth.

However, the moment was shattered by a hammering voice the pummeled through the darkness. “Teniente! Why are you not at your post?!”

Camión jumped to attention reflexively at the sound of the voice. Star Wisp was barely able to hold on to keep herself flying away from how quick he went from a curled up position to standing up. The unicorn’s hoof shot up to his forehead for a salute that was ingrained into his head. Unlike his breezy companion, Camión was forced to look straight ahead in his fall in position, unable to see who was coming up the stairway.

A bulky earth pony in full military garb trotted up the steps, a light swinging from his vest in synch with each of his steps. “Is the night watch we posted not watching the night?!”

“I was watching the night, sir!” Camión yelled back in obedient response as his superior capitán walked into the bunker.

“Is that right?! Because from what I was hearing downstairs you were chatting it up instead of doing your job!”

“I was talking to this breezy while I was doing my job, sir!”

“Is that what that thing is?!” The capitán walked up in front of Camión, his light blinded Star Wisp as its beam swung over her. “Call me educated now, because that ugly bug looked like something crossed between an overgrown cockroach and your mother!”

Camión flinched as the capitán spat the insult at him. His training forced him from retaliating, lest he risk corporal punishment. Star Wisp, on the other hand, felt like more liberty was needed in dealing with the insult.

“Hey, bub,” the breezy squeaked, “I don’t take kindly to being compared to other ponies’ mothers!”

“Well, the cockroach can talk! Call the presses! We have a miracle at the Border Base!” The capitán leaned in close to the breezy, his voice blasting her like a typhoon. “You are trespassing on military property! You better understand that this bub can order an execution for such a crime!”

“You do that, and you’re going to have diplomatic crisis on your hands!”

“Have you not noticed?! We are at war! We are far past worrying about a diplomatic crisis!”

“I’d think you’d want to worry about those, since your mother is a diplomatic crisis,” Star Wisp retorted, taking the cheap shot when she saw it.

“That’s it! You lost your right to live!” the capitán furiously roared, reeling his hoof back for a punch that would crush the breezy.

Star Wisp closed her eyes as she braced herself for the capitán’s hoof. Camión flinched back as well, seeing as his superior officer was about to punch him in the chest.

However, the blow did not come to pass. The breezy was hit in the ears instead by the sound of flesh ripping apart, followed by a deep grunt, finishing off with a thump against a concrete wall.

Star Wisp opened her eyes again. Her view of the capitán was replaced by the settling flourish of a black cloak. A twisted blade pointed out from the cloak towards a wall, where the superior was slumped against, silently unconscious and bleeding from his foreleg.

The blade swooshed through the air and pointed itself at the breezy, the cloak swung with it to reveal the muzzle of a pony sticking out of the darkness of its hood. The double obsidian blade Star Wisp looked down spiraled towards her from the hilt, the tips of the metal close enough to prick her if the wielder so much as twitched.

The breezy looked up, hoping to see if Camión was going to do something to save them. But all she saw was another twisted blade pressed against the unicorn’s throat, likely held by another pony that was covering his mouth with a hoof.

A voice came from the cloaked figure pointing the sword at Star Wisp. “Give us the Breezy, and we will spare your life.”

Star Wisp’s eyes looked all over the room for a potential place to escape. Despite her searching, even if she were to find a route, Camión tightened his grasp of the breezy, preventing her from flying away.

The unicorn tapped against the hoof against his mouth, signaling that he wanted to say something. The hoof let go, but the blade remained against his neck. “I am sworn to protect the weak! I won’t let Equestrian scum like you take her without a fight.”

“You know not of what you’re doing, Teniente. The Breezy you hold had the key to ending all of the violence.”

“Do you have a plan to exterminate us all then?”

“No, we have a plan to save us all from past turmoil. But you must give us the Breezy first.”

“Go to Tatarus!”

“Very well.”

The cloaked pony raised his hoof to give the order to his companion, but it stopped when a white hoof that came out of nowhere held it down. A voice echoed out from the void, “Enough, Let them free.”

The cloaked pony nodded. “Yes, my lady.”

He lowered the twisted blade, and his partner did the same. Both Star Wisp and Camión let out breaths they didn’t know they were holding.

“I am pleased that such a young soldier has such dedication to his duty,” the voice continued. An ancient white pony face emerged from the darkness as the white hoof lifted the hood from the head. “It’s rare that I see a white knight complex in a soldier, from either side of this war.”

Camión dug his hooves into the ground, instinctively preparing himself to fight. The cloaked pony grasped his blade in case on needed protection for his master.

“You demon scum won’t leave this place alive. This is a fully armed military base. One scream and every soldier will be here within a minute.”

“I assure you that if such a situation arises, we’ll leave alive and well. But there’s no such need for such hostility.” The pony swept dull pink and grey locks of hair away from her face with a hoof, revealing a pair of soft greed eyes surrounded by a wrinkled complexion. “Let’s start on more friendly terms. Hello, my name is Sweetie Belle, and I’m trying to save pony-kind.”

The breezy squeaked as she yelled her retort. “You’re not saving anypony by taking my wings!”

Sweetie Belle knelt down in front of the breezy, meeting her at eye level. “Your wings can save us all. A little snip-snip, and we can finish our time travel spell. Just think, if we can change the past, we won’t need to use your wings. It’ll be like they were never gone.”

Camión pushed her back. “You’re tricks won’t work on me. I was trained by the best in the world.”

“I don’t doubt it. The Bronxicans are known for their strength. Though, I prefer gentler means to an end. Tell me, do they sing to you in training?”

“Why would they do such a thing?”

“Well, I sing to my apprentices. They find it soothing. Usually I start with Hush now, quiet now, it’s time to lay your sleepy head.”

“If you think singing will save you from the Army, then you… *yawn*”

“Hush now, quiet now, it’s time to go to bed.”

Camión’s grip on Star Wisp lightened, allowing her to crawl out from his grasp. But for some reason, the urgency of the situation wasn’t dawning on her. A nap felt more appropriate for the time being.

“Drifting off to sleep, leave the day behind you.”

Neither Camión nor Star Wisp could keep their eyes open. Their eyelids began to flutter close as their bodies went limp. The unicorn toppled over as the strength in his legs left him.

Before he could drift off into the void of dreams, he managed to say one thing. “Siren… you’re the Siren…”

“Drifting off to sleep, let the joy of dreamland find you.”

The breezy and the unicorn were fast asleep in front of the three cloaked ponies. When the unicorn began snoring, Sweetie Belle gestured to the breezy on the floor.

“Cut off her wings and give them to me.”

One of the cloaked ponies lifted the breezy with a hoof. She took her blade and carefully separated the gossamer material form the rest of her body with the tips. When she was done, the wings floated down for the ground, but the other cloaked pony caught them before impact.

Sweetie Belle pulled out a flask from her cloak, and held it by the wings. “Hurry, put them in.”

The pony obeyed, and the wings went into the flask. Sweetie Belle sealed it with her magic and began to shake the bottle, mixing the new ingredient with the liquid previously inside.

“My lady,” a cloaked pony began, “this time travel potion, where, I mean when, will it take us?”

After sufficiently shaking the flask, Sweetie unsealed it and chugged the contents down her gullet. After the bottle was emptied, she replied. “I should be able to take us to before the war started. Now get close, I’m about to cast the spell.”

“And what are we going to do then.”

As her cohorts came in close, Sweetie Belle wrapped her forelegs around their necks and charged her horn. “With any luck, we’ll bring an end to things that came…”

Her horn gave off a sudden flash. The cloaked ponies felt a pull engulfing their entire beings. They felt themselves beginning their journey across the fourth dimension.

“… And we’ll change the things to come.”

Author's Note

Written for WTG#10, which was about Breezies. I think this is a nice chapter to set myself up for future events.

Critiques are encouraged.

Changing the Things That Came (Part 1)

Changing the Things That Came (Part 1)
(That title is not supposed to be sexual)
By A Random Guy®

Blackness filled the world. No stars, no light, there was only the nothingness of a void. No cataclysms, no disasters, no pain or suffering, no little pleasures that make it all worth it. Nothing to illuminate the world, nothing to cast a shadow, nothing to be seen. It was all blackness. Yet, a rumble was present, followed by a distant whistle.

Then the train came out of the tunnel.

Sweetie Belle found herself staring out of a window, watching green hills roll on by and trees breezing past her vision. In the window itself, she saw a reflection of a unicorn, a wrinkled face staring back at her, dull eyes filled with the twinkle of past memories.

The vista outside of the window switched to a blurring village, its buildings streaking through the world. A steeple drifted in the horizon, standing out from the streaking buildings, something impressive that nature could not produce, something that only a pony could create. Above the rumble, the unicorn could hear a bell ringing in the distance, notifying everyone within earshot that the local time was two in the afternoon.

It’s brighter than Sweetie remembered.

She pressed her face against the glass, soaking in the visual experience. Ponies built that village, she thought, and in the grand scheme of history, they built it just as fast as it came into my view.

Just as the experience was fully sinking in, the town flew out of view, being replaced by the rolling hills and breezing trees.

They destroyed it just as fast, too.

A masculine voice interrupted Sweetie Belle from her trance. “Alder Sage, did we do it?”

The unicorn looked in front of her to see a pony shrouded in a black cloak trimmed with yellow silk. She grabbed the hood of a similar cloak that she was wearing with her magic, flicking it over her pink and silver streaked mane.

“Yes, Summoner, we did it. Welcome to the past.”

The Summoner looked around at their surroundings, which consisted of rows of benches lined along a wide hallway. “It is much more colorful than I expected.” He jumped a bit on the cushion of the bench he was sitting on. “We wouldn’t happen to be on a train, would we?”

“I believe we are.” The Alder Sage ran a hoof along the oak seat of her own bench. “If I remember correctly, this should be the line that runs through the country.”

The Summoner continued to jump on the cushion. “How could they afford these cushions? I did not think they would waste cushions on such a mundane thing.”

Sweetie Belle smiled at his observation. “You’ll find that there are many luxuries in this time that ponies take for granted like that, such as cushions.”

“Oh, and chocolate cake?” a similarly cloaked mare sitting next to the Alder Sage inquired.

“Paladin… I didn’t think you knew that existed.”

The mare grinned as she pulled out a book from under her cloak. “It’s mentioned in the first passage of the Diary. Look!” She flipped to one of the early pages of the book and showed it to the Alder Sage. “The Flu mentioned it in the middle of the passage. It says that it’s her favorite flavor!”

“So you did bring the Diary,” the unicorn grinned, “That was good thinking on your part.”

Sweetie Belle took the book from the Paladin’s hooves as she pulled out a pair of reading glasses from her cloak and put them on her face. Her elder eyes squinted as she tried to focus through the think lenses on the tiny words written in the pages. When she had a somewhat clear view, she began to read those words out loud.

“Today was a good day. I don’t know how many birthdays I forced my parents to ignore. I know it’s supposed to be a happy day, or at least that’s what I’m told. It’s just something I can’t celebrate, not since… Well, birthdays are a rather sensitive topic for me. I know that this diary is private, and I can jot down whatever’s on my mind in it. But it’s that one particular day… I just can’t bring myself to write about it.

But Ether, bless her little heart, was rather persistent in celebrating my birthday. How can you tell a four-year-old that you don’t like birthdays when she spent half the day prepping a party just for you? When I got back from work, there she was, in the dining room, showing off her creation.

It was really cute. She didn’t know how to set up a party, but she tried her best. She didn’t know that balloons needed helium to float, so the floor was covered in balloons she tried to make float with her breath. She decorated the walls with streamers, but they were only four feet off the ground, since she could only reach that high, and nailed into the wall. But that’s fine, the walls needed repainting anyways. The game of Pin the Tail on the Pony she set up was fun, though.

Oh, but the cake, that chocolate cake. I don’t remember telling her, but somehow Ether knew what my favorite flavor of cake was. Imagine my surprise when she brought me into the kitchen. I think she spent most of her time that day trying to make it perfect, or at least in her eyes. The thing was smothered in brown frosting. I didn’t even know we had that much to begin with. Plus the cake itself was all goopy and thick, as if she just threw the cake mix and chocolate bars into the oven and let it cook.

And it was the best chocolate cake I ever had.

I’m proud to have her as a daughter.”

Once Sweetie Belle finished, she passed the book back to the Paladin. “That’s a cute passage.” She took off her glasses and put them back under her cloak. “Reminds me of when I was raising your mother, Summoner. I can remember the time when she took down her first Bronxican Captain.”

The Summoner crossed his forehooves as he leaned back in the bench. “I remember you telling me the story on several occasions, each one becoming more outlandish than the last. So, since we are on a journey through time and space, should we not create ground rules so that we don’t cause a paradox, such as killing our grandparents?” He threw a smirk towards his Alder Sage as he finished that sentence.

The Paladin chuckled as she flipped through the pages of the book. “Your laziness is your bane, Summoner. If you bothered to read the Diary, you would have known that this trip will not create a paradox.”

“Yes, I suppose my biggest weakness is procrastination,” the Summoner replied as he leaned his head against the window. “However, my weakness does not matter in this case, for I cannot read a book without being told that there was even a book to read in the first place.”

“You were supposed to read two days ago. How could you not have been told that the Diary existed?”

“Two days ago you told me that we were going on a long trip and we were not coming back. I did not even know we were time traveling until we crossed the border.”

The Paladin shook her head. “None the less, you should have known. Our Alder Sage lent you the book to skim over. Is that not right, Alder Sage?”

Both disciples turned to Sweetie Belle, expecting her to answer. But she didn’t pay attention, instead losing herself in the passing scenery of the outside world.

The Paladin tapped her on the shoulder, causing the unicorn to snap out of her daydream. “What is it?” she asked as she returned to the conversation.

“It is the matter of the Diary, ma’am,” the Paladin said, “Did you not give it to the Summoner so he could look over it? You said that you would take care of it.”

The disciple only received a blank stare from Sweetie Belle, who had seeming lost herself in the question. It took a moment for the Paladin to realize that the Alder Sage was, in fact, out of it again, so she gave her another tap on the shoulder, and the elder snapped back to reality, again. “What happened?”

“Alder Sage, did you give the Diary to the Summoner?”

Sweetie Belle looked at the Paladin, then looked at the Summoner, then looked back at the Paladin, then back at the Summoner, and then back at the Paladin. After going through every action she did in the past few days, she drew a mental blank. She shook her head like a school filly being asked if she knew the answer to a difficult problem.

“So you did not give the Summoner the Diary?”

The unicorn shrugged. “What do you expect of a mare my age? I can barely remember what I had for breakfast.”

The Summoner leaned forward and rubbed his hooves together. “Okay, our Alder Sage is obviously going senile, so Celestia knows what else she has forgotten.”

Sweetie Belle shrugged again, accepting the comment as true. The Paladin, however, took more offence to his remark. “How dare you disrespect our Alder Sage! Do you wish to anger our Nightly Mother?”

“I will let her personally take a bite out of me if she is angered by that. But I believe she would be angrier if we cannot complete our task if you do not tell me anything about it.”

“I believe I should not tell you anything if you are going to insult our elder!”

Sweetie Belle interrupted the exchange with a large yawn, stretching her forelegs and opening her mouth wide to allow the yawn to pass. “I think you should tell him, Paladin. We only have so much time before we arrive in Ponyville.”

“Ponyville, like the Monster Graveyard Ponyville?” the Summoner asked. “Out of all the forsaken places in the world, why would be going to the Monster Graveyard?”

The Paladin tapped the book in response. “According to the Diary, Ponyville is where most of the events occurred that led up to the war.”

“That diary says that?”

“I am paraphrasing, but yes. It specifically states that the events written about in the book caused the war, and not just big political events. There are events written in here that nopony would have noticed going on without being able to look back in time.”

“Go back in time, like what we just did?”

“Yes, in fact, thanks to the notes in the Diary, we were able to travel back just like the Flu did.”

“The Flu? See, that is why we should not time travel. We bring back diseases that would not exist in the first place without being sent from the future.”

“Oh, the Flu is not a disease, not in this context. She’s actually the author of the Diary.” The Paladin held up the book cover, tapping underneath a line of golden letters that spelt out “Flu”. However, half the cover had been torn off, taking an unknown set of other letters with it.

“Alright, the Flu is a pony, but my fear of spreading future disease still stands. So, who was the Flu, then?”

The Paladin reopened the book, and began skimming through the pages. “The Diary does not say much about the Flu herself. There are only a few passages about her personal life, even then she does not write much about herself. But she does bring up her daughter a lot.”

The Summoner reached out, gesturing for the book in the Paladin’s hooves. “Let me see it. I would rather read the diary myself than for you to give me an incomplete summary.”

“That is ironic, coming from you.” The Paladin passed the book over to the Summoner’s hooves. “I recommend reading from the top of that page.”

He brought it up near his face, keeping it open to the page where she left off. His eyes fell to the top of the page began to look through the letters written on the paper.

“I want to say goodbye, for good this time. But I can’t.

I need to find a way, an actual way to travel back, to make everything permanent, to make my actions more than just dust in the wind.

I tried warning myself, but it never helps. Nothing changes after I visit myself.

I tried stopping the bombs. It’s so hard stopping them, though. I tried to catch them in midair, but I always end up back in my time.

I can never stop those bombs, those awful bombs.

Ether’s always underneath them. I can never get her out of the way...” He stopped at that line, seeing that the next sentence was hard to read out loud.

ETHER! GET OUT OF THE WAY! WHY CAN’T I GET YOU OUT OF THERE?!…

“Well then, she lost a daughter in the war. Why is that important?”

The Paladin pulled out another book from her cloak, one that was almost identical from the diary the Summoner was reading from, except the book was less tattered and the pages where whiter. She opened the book and flipped to a certain page. “This is a copy of the Diary that I made a month ago,” she explained as she handed the book to him. “Read those last two lines again.”

“Why in the world would you have a copy of”-

“Just read it.”

The Summoner abided her order, and looked at the lines a second time in the new book. “River’s always underneath them, I can never get her out of the way. River, get out of the way, so on and so forth. Again, I don’t see… Wait…” The Summoner checked the original Diary and read it aloud again. “Ether’s always…” He looked back at the copy. “River’s always… I think you made a mistake in your copy.”

The Paladin shook her head. “Not possible. I used a spell to replicate each and every word from the Diary, creating a magical duplicate. An error is not possible.”

“Looking at this, you did make an error. Magic duplicates do not change the source material.”

Sweetie Belle interrupted him with a cough. “Unless the source material changes outside of time.”

“Uh, what?”

The unicorn leaned forward, lowering her voice to be heard only between her and the disciples, even though there wasn’t anypony else around to hear. “The thing is, they both said the same thing two weeks ago, but for some reason, the copy, a magically protected document, changed, but the original, also a magically protected document, did not.”

“Again, there is an error with the copy. Why should it matter?”

Sweeting Belle nodded towards the Paladin. “Because her written notes, which aren’t magically protected, match up with the original, not the copy. But she based all her notes on the copy.”

“That… does sound odd. So you think the source material changed, which changed the notes, but not the copy?”

“Exactly, and I don’t think something physical changed it. It had to be something literally beyond our time.”

“That is an interesting theory. I will guess we are on this adventure because of it?

“Yep, the Flu couldn’t change time, yet somehow the Diary changed. I used the same mechanic to allow us to travel back and make changes.”

“And what is this mechanic?”

A sly smile came across the unicorn’s face. “It’s quite simple. We created a paradox.”

“How does a paradox help? Do the stories of time travel not dictate that we are not supposed to create paradoxes? Other than the big intentional one, of course.”

“The Flu goes on about how time is set so it repairs itself, such that when a pony time travels, any paradox the pony causes is immediately fixed, usually by making the pony have no effect on the future in some way. However, she never mentioned what would happen if a paradox causes a pony.”

“Ponies caused by a paradox?”

“Yes, like how a paradox may have created a new version of the Diary. It’s what I did when I drank the potion with the Breezy wings. Breezies are highly toxic to anything that consumes them, but the toxin has an interesting way of killing its victims. By drinking the wing particles, I had the universe target myself for a lethal spell, so to speak. But by casting a time travel spell right as it struck, I created a void in the universe that it tried to kill. The universe declared me dead, and the time travel spell sent me back to the past alive.”

“That potion killed you?!”

“Yes, and in the instant that I was both alive and dead, I sent us back in time.”

“So by being alive when you are supposed to be dead, you created a paradox. And since you set the base of your time travel as a paradox, the universe will fix the paradox. And I assume that since you lack a the paradox you created, the universe cannot fix the other paradoxes you create during this time travel.”

“Almost exactly, except I didn’t create the paradox, the paradox created me.”

“That...” The Summoner tried to think of what to say, but anything that he thought of only sputtered within his mind. He could only think of how convoluted it actually sounded. “That only makes sense if you disregard all physical properties of the universe.”

“It’s the same vein of magic that you use for summonings. I’m just taking advantage an exploit in the universe’s physics system.”

“Right,” the Summoner said, doubt wavering through his voice. “And how did you figure this all out?”

Sweetie Belle shrugged for a third time. “Experience, that’s it.”

“Well then, I am glad to know your experience pulled us through. I was beginning to think you were just a lunatic who thought she is a know-it-all showoff.”

The Paladin wasn’t very fond of his statement, and promptly kicked him in the shin to show her displeasure. The Summoner wasn’t fond of the shin-kicking, and promptly held in a scream of agony to hide his pain.

The unicorn only smiled. “That’s a good one, coming from a well-respected member of a cult.” She patted him on the leg that was sure to bruise later, forcing him to wince with every touch. “As they say, takes one to know one.”

Before the Summoner could reply, the sound of an opening door interrupted him. The trio turned their heads towards the front of the train, where a pony in a conductor’s uniform had entered. He took a few steps forward before he noticed that the train wasn’t as empty as he thought. The conductor puzzled over the ponies in the bench as he walked over to them, their gazes from under their hoods following him as he got closer.

“Good afternoon,” he said as he reached their benches. “I didn’t realize that there were ponies in this carriage. I apologize for not being able to be of service to you folk.”

“Oh, don’t trouble yourself over it,” Sweetie Belle replied as she held her hoof up. The conductor interpreted the hoof gesture as reassurance that no harm was done, when in reality the unicorn did it because she felt she needed to signal the disciples to hold back and not fillet the stallion. “I’m very glad that we were able to find an empty cart in the first place. My grandson always gets nervous in crowds.”

The conductor didn’t notice the scowl the Summoner directed at his grandmother, and smiled knowing that he wasn’t going to receive complaints over lack of service. “And where is your destination on this fine day?”

“My grandchildren are taking me to Ponyville. I was raised there, long ago, and it would be nice to see my hometown again.”

“Well, thank you for choosing our humble train to take you there today. We should be there in a few minutes, so if there’s anything you need from now till then, don’t hesitate to call me.” The conductor began to walk off to the next carriage, but froze midstep. “I almost forgot. I didn’t check your tickets. Better late than never, as they say.”

“Ah yes, tickets. Wonderful things those are, excellent for getting you into places.”

“Well, you just need tickets to get onto this train.” The conductor’s positive demeanor started to slip. “You do have tickets, don’t you?”

“It’s rather funny, really. We actually don’t have tickets.”

“Not to worry, you can pay for your ticket right now. It shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Actually, that is a problem. As you can see,” the unicorn pulled out a coin purse from her cloak, squishing it to show the emptiness of the bag, “We’re sort of broke.”

“I see.” At this point, the conductor’s had disappeared and a serious frown took its place. “I hope you’re aware that boarding this train without a ticket is a form of thievery.”

“I’ve been known to do such illegal things.”

“I’m going to have to ask you to stay on the train when we get to Ponyville, where the local police will escort you into custody.”

“I’m sure we can work something out before then.” Sweetie Belle noticed the Summoner’s hoof inching down into his cloak, going for the twisted blade hidden within his vestments. The Alder Sage coughed, drawing his attention towards her, shaking her head to tell him to hold. The Summoner nodded, but kept his hoof where it was. She turned back to the conductor with a soft smile. “How about I sing for you, as a trade?”

“We only accept bits. Do not try to wiggle out of this.”

“But I know such a lovely song. I used to sing it for my grandchildren all the time.”

“A song is not going to buy you a ticket, ma’am. Please remain here while”-

Sweetie Belle ignored the conductor, clearing her throat, prepping her voice for a song. She began to create a soft melody with her lips.

“You can forget the day, my darling. It was nothing but sorrow and pain.”

“Yes, that’s a lovely voice, but I don’t think you’re fully grasping the seriousness of the situation.”

“Tomorrow will be bright, my darling. Learn from today and know what to gain.”

“Ma’am, please, I require your full cooper… coopera…” The conductor’s mouth stopped in midsentence. His eyelids started blinking individually with each note of the lullaby.

“Troubles will leave and come, my darling. Just remember our love will remain…”

Seeing that the conductor’s body was swaying with the song, the Paladin held out a hoof to stabilize him and keep him from collapsing on top her.

“… Forever, my darling.”

As the Alder Sage’s lullaby last note decayed into the air, the conductor’s irregular actions halted. His head jolted as if he had awoken from a dream. His gaze bounced all over the train carriage as he tried to regain his bearings. “Wha! What… What happened? Where am I?”

“Oh, you had us worried there for a moment,” Sweetie Belle said with a little relief in her voice. “You blanked out on us. We were about to send for a doctor.”

“I did? Uh… what was I doing before that?”

“You were punching our tickets.”

“Ah, yes.” The conductor put his smile back on. “And where were you three going?”

“Ponyville.”

“Ah, Ponyville, what a quaint place. We should be arriving in a few minutes. I hope you enjoyed your ride.”

The unicorn smiled as the conductor started walking away. “Trust me, it was quite eventful.”

When the conductor was out of earshot, the Summoner leaned in with a hushed tone. “Are you crazy? We had the money to pay for the tickets. None of that was necessary!”

“Says the guy who was reaching for his sword.”

“Well, you put us into that situation.”

“But I wanted to sing you your favorite lullaby. You loved it as a kid.”

“I don’t remember you singing it to me.”

The Alder Sage winked. “Exactly.”

To be continued...

Author's Note

What? There's an overarching plot being established? Who mixed plot with my randomness?

Written for plot purposes. It's random because who would expect me to break away from the weekly WTGs and do this?

Anyways, who's tired of the picture of the stack of books as the story heading picture? I know I am. That's why I'm asking anybody that's reading this if they could come up with a new image for the cover art, as volunteer work! Your work will be displayed proudly on the front page of an underrated compilation of randomness! To participate, first make a drawing or a painting or something that I can use (Must incorporate something that happened within a combination of any of these chapters), then PM me the drawing/painting/mural/sacrifice gone wrong. Make sure it's decent, I am looking over it to see if it's somewhat decent. So no stick figures or Pony Creator images, unless they're really good.

Payment will be in 5 internet cookies.

An Account of the Origin of the Mad Mud Army

An Account of the Origin of the Mad Mud Army
By A Random Guy

Everyone at some point needs to let out their emotions in some way, even seemingly emotionless ponies like Maud Pie. Unfortunately, some ponies are unaware of this fact, like the two ponies that were withering in pain on the floor at Maud’s feet. Fortunately, life has a way of teaching ponies these kinds of lessons.

The aforementioned ponies were just doing their job like any other day when they learnt their lesson. They received their orders to raise the elevator they guarded to the top floor, where a stoic faced Maud was waiting for them. They never seen her before, but that wasn’t a reason to deviate from their contract of operating the elevator.

It was when they closed the wired-fence doors and lowered the elevator that they discovered that Maud had trouble dealing with pent up anger in a nondestructive manner, though she was clever about how she released it. When the elevator was deep in the tunnel it descended into, the pony guards toppled over from an overload from the pain sensors nerves in their groin areas. If it wasn’t for the obnoxious rusty screech the elevator made as it moved, any pony that was outside the elevator shaft would have heard two extremely feminine screams the precise moment Maud preformed two strategically-placed judo chops.

The elevator guards learnt their lesson for the day.

Now that the stoic geologist had a chance to vent her frustrations, she had time to admire the minerals that composed the elevator shaft. The elevator itself was made almost entirely of wire fencing, so analyzing the elements outside the walls came with almost no trouble. The big thing she noticed was that the rock that was moving past her was white, but it was the kind of white that sparkled when a light was shone on it, like a field of snow in the early winter morning. She concluded that the walls were made of salt, seeing that salt was a big export in the region she was in.

Before she could inspect the rock any further, the elevator came to a jarring halt at the bottom of the shaft, after which the doors opened to reveal a grand chasm of salt. The ceiling was supported by high pillars- made of the white mineral- that lined the walls. Rows and columns of cubbies were evenly carved into the sides of the room, each holding a lit candle that cast a dim light against all the salty surfaces. The most notable feature to Maud wasn’t the architecture or the poor lighting, which she couldn’t care less about. What did peak her interest was how all the salty surfaces were sprinkled with green twinkles, sparkling in the warm candlelight. Judging how the light reflected off the glitter, Maud could tell that the green twinkles were grains of emerald infused into the salt rock.

“Buenos noches, señora,” a guard geeted her as he leaned out from a wall outside of the elevator. “La Presidente is waiting for you…” A concern look came across the guards face as his fallen comrades caught his attention on the floor.

Maud nodded as she stepped over the fallen comrades. She ignored the guard as she walked by him, who had rushed in afterwards to assist the injured. With each step she took, her foot sunk a half of an inch deep into a loose layer of salt. As she walked into the chasm, she got a better view of the downward sloping floor, which was set at a rather extreme angle. Benches that were carved out of the stone stood in rows on either side of a central stairway. At the bottom of the slope the floor leveled off at the base of a large salt sculpture of a pony with emerald eyes. At the foot of the sculpture was a kneeling mare, a mare that was as purple as grapes and dressed in a business suit.

The mare rose from her position, turning to meet the geologist as she walked down the steps. Her lavender mane was tied back in a bun, leaving her face clear and her harsh cyan eyes to greet her cousin. “Buenos noches, Maud,” she said looking up at the approaching pony. “I hope that there were no troubles during your trip.”

“My visit to the infamous Salt Mine Cathedral would make any trip worth the trouble,” she responded in her trademark monotone voice, “If it wasn’t for the fact that I’m only here because of you, Uva.”

Uva tilted her head, putting on her best expression of fake hurt. “Now, that’s no way to talk to your cousin, is it, much less the presidente of a sovereign nation?”

Maud stopped walking as she reached the bottom of the steps. “Why should I consider you my cousin?” she asked, “You threatened my sister in order to make me come. No real cousin would even think of that.” Even with her monotonous tone, Uva could feel the venom spit out of her voice.

Despite the geologist’s words, the Presidente de Bronxico shrugged off the family tensions. “Haces que haces. Don’t think of it as a threat towards your sister. Think of it as an… an invitation to understanding a controversial topic.”

“Let’s just be clear about one thing.” Maud walked up to the president, getting as close to face as possible. She shoved a hoof against the purple mare’s suit hard enough to knock the air out of the pony, all without breaking her gaze or her eternal expression. “Do not hurt Pinkie.”

“First off, cough,” Uva gasped as she recovered from the powerful shove, “do not touch me. Segunda, do not get in my face.” She pushed the geologist back, regaining her personal space in the process. “Tercera, that means third you maldito plebeyo, I will hurt her if I have to. Do not make it so I have to.”

“You can’t hurt her if I take you down first.”

“Go ahead. Lúchame!” Uva seethed as she closed the distance between their faces. “See what happens if you defy me! I want you to watch your sister’s best friend hurt her.”

Maud’s stoic face didn’t crack her expression, nor did she crack away from the stare. “What do you mean ‘her best friend’?”

“I mean that all I have to do is give the word, and the next time you see your sister she’ll be a bloody mess and her closest amigo will be standing on top of it. Comprende?”

Maud kept her eyes locked on her cousin’s, throwing all her willpower against the purple mare’s arid glare. It took all the same willpower to hold back from socking the president in the face. The stare duel waged on, and may have waged on longer, but Maud caved in out of personal virtue, giving a reluctant nod in response.

“Bueno.” A smirk came across Uva’s face as she backed off from the standoff. “You know what you’re here for. Begin the ritual.”

“I don’t have the necessary items to do what the postcard asked me to do.”

“Por el amor de Carne, look around you!” Uva snapped as she swung her foreleg out, gesturing to the grand chasm around them. “I know you noticed what the walls are made out of: salt with emerald particulates! You got your common material and your rare material, both wrapped in a nice big package! It’s a summoner’s wet dream!”

Maud looked around at her surrounding, admiring the white stone with the green glint mixed in once again. “I can see that. But it’s all useless if I don’t have something to inscribe with.”

“Didn’t you bring a pen?”

“I tried bringing a knife, but your customs system confiscated it when I got to the city. Shame, it was one of my better ones.”

“Ah, sí, I can see how that may be a problem.” Uva tapped her chin as she looked around the chasm, trying to see if anypony forgot a sharp cutting instrument after a virgin sacrifice. “What do you need to carve into with the knife? Can’t you just draw on a piece of paper or something?”

“I need to be able to make an imprint of a sigil in the common material.”

“You’re kidding, sí?” Uva deadpanned. “You’re standing on salt for Carne’s sake. It’s not exactly the hardest material in the world. Just stomp an imprint out with your hoof. I know you have the strength.”

“It won’t be as precise or as powerful if I do that.”

“I don’t care right now. It’s just a demonstration. Stop stalling.”

Muad gave her cousin a brief glare, and then looked down as she began dragging her hoof through the loose top layer of salt, tracing a circle in the process. When she completed the circle, she began drawing designs within it. Uva watched as Maud formed her designs, observing her hoof work the salt, bouncing off from the edges of the circle, making shallow ditches and throwing the mineral around.

“That’s done,” Muad declared as she lifted her hoof from the sigil. Uva was surprised how simple the finished work was, which seemed to be only a four-point star engraved in the center of the circle. The emerald particulates gave it a jade shimmer, but nothing that could compare to a real star in the night sky.

“That’s a lovely drawing. Why isn’t it doing anything?”

“For once in your life, Uva, be at least a little patient. You haven’t given me a chance to speak the enchantment.”

“Speak it then,” Uva demanded. “I don’t have all day.”

Muad gave the president another little glare, then returned to looking back at the sigil. She cleared her throat as she prepared her incantation. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath in through her nose, and then out through her mouth, clearing her mind of any distraction. She raised a hoof over the sigil, keeping it parallel above the floor, and opened her mouth to pour out her first words of the process.

“Oh great universe,” she began, her voice booming through the chasm, her face remaining lacking in any enthusiasm of any kind. “Take these materials, this salt and the emerald within, and bring me a warrior from another time!”

Her booming voice echoed through the chamber, fading out as it bounced around the walls. When it died out, leaving the chasm in a calm hush, Maud opened her eyes and lowered her hoof. “The ritual is complete.”

“That was it?” the flabbergasted presidente asked. “Fue muy rapido.”

“I don’t know why everyone makes a big deal out of summoning. You just need to know how to ask, what to ask, and who to ask, especially who. Literally anyone can learn it.”

“That can’t be it. I don’t see my warrior from another time. You must have messed up.”

“Give it a moment. The universe usually has to sort things out first.”

And so, the cousins stood there, in a deep underground chasm cathedral, looking at the sigil etched into the floor. Maud kept her rock-hard composure, while Uva stared deep at the design, raising her expectations higher and higher as time went on. She hoped that this would work, since she didn’t want to pay damages for a floor that’s been carved up for a failed summoning. The deposit she paid to rent the place already took a bite out of her budget.

“Maud, nothing’s happening.”

“Again, have a little patience.”

“Look, if I’m going to threaten your family to make you come all this way, at least have the decency to tell me that you can’t- did the ground just move?”

The aforementioned movement caught Muad’s eye as well. The loose salt layer began to sift with an invisible wind that was breezing across the winter white floor. Eddies of the mineral began to jump up into the air, then crashed back down like tiny ocean waves. The eddies danced with the low breeze, gently whistling the tune of the universe.

Excitement took over Uva’s face. Her eyes went wide and her mouth curled up, letting out a stream of giggles that couldn’t be kept in. Her hooves stomped against the ground as she was swept up by the minuscule magic of the moment. Maud just stood there.

The candles in the wall cubbies all snuffed out in a single instance, purging the chasm into blackness. Uva’s excitement was pummeled as the invisible gust made an instant transition into an immense gale force. The four-point star etched in the floor blasted a silver light across the room brighter than the grandest star in the sky, blinding all ponies present. Uva was pushed back and covered her face with her legs to protect her eyes. Maud just stood there.

A vortex of the white mineral sprung up from the sigil, pulling in the loose salt layer from all across the ground into the center. Flying salt particulates were flung through the air, pelting anything that got in their way. The particulates stung Uva as the skidded across her flesh, forcing tiny little “Ow”s to fly out of her mouth. Maud just stood there.

The salt began to clump in the center of the vortex, forming a sphere that hovered above the four-pointed star. The light from the star illuminated the bottom half of the sphere, letting the crystal slats and the emerald particulates reflect the star’s light like a disco ball, leaving the top half of the sphere in the shadows. If Uva could see past her legs that covered her face, she would be blinded a second time by the awesomeness of the twirling sphere of salt. Maud just stood there.

The sphere began to bulge and contract on multiple planes, oscillating at an ever increasing rate. Points began to grow out of the pulsating, twirling sphere of salt, growing with each oscillation. Then, the form of a pony head began to grow from one of these points, and the shape of the rest of the pony soon came to follow. The vortex’s power began to die down and a unicorn grew out of the sphere. Uva didn’t see it, and Maud just stood there.

Soon, all the gale force wind disappeared. Invisible hands lowered the unicorn body from the air. When its hooves made contact with the ground, the candlelight flared back up, and the star sniffed out. The unicorn opened his eyes for the first time, finding himself face to face with Maud, who was just standing there.

“What happened?” the unicorn freaked, looking around the room like a swarm of bees was going to attack him. After a bit of frantic searching, he focused on Maud and began berating her with questions, in Bronxican (Which has been translated for convenience). “What happened? Where’s Star Wisp? Is she okay? Where are those cloaked ponies? The Siren! I’m going to kill her if she did anything to Star Wisp!”

“Easy there, buddy,” Maud replied. “You’re currently in a past time, occupying a body made completely of salt. I’m sure everything’s fine in your original time. Now tell me who you are.”

The unicorn’s eyes still nervously twitched around, but he managed to give a comprehensible answer. “I’m Camión Lechero, teniente of the Bronxican Imperial Army. Where’s Star Wisp?”

Maud leaned past the frantic stallion and directed her attention to her cousin. “You have your soldier. Are you happy?”

Uva lowered her legs from her face, getting a good look at the interloper in the process. “Ah, yes, he’ll do nicely.”

Camión turned around at the sound of her voice. At the sight of her, his military training kicked in, stopping his frantic jittering and reflexively forcing him to stand attention and salute. “Presidente Uva! I am honored to be in your presence.”

“Hehe, I like this unicorn already. Welcome to the past, soldier.”

“I’m in the past?” he rhetorically asked, looking around the room once again. “I remember something someone said. The Siren, when she revealed herself, she said she was coming to the past. She may be among us right now?”

Uva gave a quizzical look as she got up from the floor. “Who’s this ‘Siren’ you speak of?”

“One of the most feared warriors of the Equestrian Armed Forces, señora. She is infamous for taking down legions of soldiers just by singing. In an encounter with her, right before I ended up here, she told me that she was traveling to the past to end Bronxico and prevent the war.”

“Don’t fret over your Siren problem, soldier,” Uva smiled, “I won’t let her become a problem for us. I am glad you were able to tell me of this threat.”

“Sounds like you already have opposition before the performance has even begun,” Maud commented, almost smirking, almost.

“Don’t worry,” Uva paused to let out a chuckle, “We’ll silence her song before she can even come from behind the curtain.”

Author's Note

Written for the WTG for "Maud Pie". Confused because you feel like you read things from the middle? That's because you did. Chapter 1 is <- that way.

Hey, do you do art? I need a new thumbnail for this story, done by a volunteer artist. The pile of books on the front page may get me in trouble some day, so draw something pretty up and PM me to have it proudly displayed and credited! (Note that it has to encompass some combination of content that you can select at your discretion from any chapter in this story.)

Changing the Things That Came (Part 2)

Second Part of Changing the Things That Came
By A Random Guy

The universe of the compilation is folding against its will...

When the Summoner heard that he was going to Ponyville, he was expecting a wasteland filled to the brim with bones of all sizes. He was expecting to be going to the third most depressing location in the world, right after Detrot. He was expecting to walk through streets paved with ashes and roads filled with lost souls. He was expecting it to be as bleak as heck.

But instead of being filled with the deepest levels of angst and sorrow, he was balking. He was balking at the roads, which had lively, colorful ponies milling about, doing their jobs and minding their own business. He was balking at the streets, which weren’t really made of pavers as much as they were made of compacted dirt. He was balking at a fuzzy feeling he felt inside of him, which he hadn’t felt for a long time.

“Do you think he is alright?” the Paladin asked, waving a hoof in front of her companion’s face, whose wide, bloodshot eyes were locked on to a single distant point beyond reality. “His mouth has been open for such a long time I would think he was renting it out to a nest of birds.”

“Oh, he’s fine,” the Alder Sage reassured her. “I think it’s a time travel symptom, like a buildup of chronotons or temporal indigestion.”

“It will go away, correct?”

“Yeah… I’ll let you think that…”

“This place looks so much better than what the pictures showed me,” the Paladin said as she walked forward through the street, looking around with a sense of awe and forgetting about the stunned Summoner. “It is all so… alive. I mean, just look at that!”

The Alder Sage looked towards the direction that the Paladin indicated, where only a blue pony eating a hayburger stood next to a bench. “Yes, that’s Noteworthy, I think. What about him?”

“He is out in public, not being all gloomy and depressed! I cannot remember the last time I saw a pony that was not gloomy or depressed!”

“Yes… ponies in the past do tend to be… not depressed,” the Alder Sage reminisced as she watched Noteworthy take a bite out of his hayburger from under her hood. Watching the pony chew with his mouth open wasn’t really appealing to her, so she turned her attention to the Summoner, who was still dealing with a theoretical chronoton buildup or a possible temporal indigestion. “Now that I think of it, he may not be alright after all.”

The Summoner’s eyes didn’t waver from their position, but his mouth twitched a bit, producing a low mumble that the Alder Sage’s elder ears could barely hear. “…Colors… so many… colors…”

“Yep, still fine, just getting used to all these colors he’s not used to seeing, that’s all.”

“Is there anything we can do to help him?”

“Not really, just let him adjust to all the pastels,” the Alder Sage replied. She squinted at the point she thought he was staring at, which she thought was an area at the far end of the street. “I can’t blame him. Everything is so… happy. I miss it being happy.” A short-lived smile crept up on her face, which disappeared when she looked back at Noteworthy. “Except him, I don’t miss him being happy.”

“Why? Did he do something to you?”

“Not really, I just have a grudge against him for criticizing a play I wrote, and directed, and performed in.” She scowled at him while he finished up his hayburger, then her face lit up as a thought came to mind. “I’m going to harass him.”

“Er... I do not think that is wise to do that.”

“Paladin, answer me this,” the Alder Sage said as she looked into the disciple’s eyes with a deadpan face, “Are you supposed to question your elder?”

“No, but”-

“Exactly,” Sweetie Belle interrupted, turning to walk towards the bench. “Shut up and help me harass that pony.”

The Paladin stood there for a moment, contemplating weather or not to follow orders. After her brief moment of thought, she nodded as she reluctantly started following her elder, who was wise enough to know what she was doing, or at least that’s what she thought.

The Summoner, however, wasn’t in the right mental condition to be able to follow suit. He could only watch as his companions walked out of his line of vision, not that he noticed it anyway. All he could do was stare off into the distance and mutter the word “colors” occasionally.

It wasn’t long before he felt a tug on his cloak, which broke him out of nonreality. His head jolted back while his eyes blinked several times as his mental facilities returned to him with the force of a train running into the side of a mountain. He left the tug on his cloak again, and looked down to see a young, sky blue filly pulling on the sleeve of his black garment.

“Hello, mister,” said the filly when she noticed she gained the attention of the Summoner. “My name’s Ether and I’m four years old and I’m giving tickets for free.”

“Uh, hello Ether. Sorry, but I can’t legally talk to you without a guardian,” replied the Summoner, taking a couple of steps back, desperately looking around for the filly’s possible parent.

“Can you please buy a ticket, pretty please with a cherry on top?” Ether pleaded with wide watering rose eyes, quivering her lips and hanging her ears. “It’s only five bits.”

“My court order does not allow me to talk to you right now,” he replied as he tried to walk away, only to be trailed by the filly at his feet. “I thought you said the tickets were free.”

“I did, they’re free for five bits,” she said as she ran up in front of the Summoner, pulling out a red ticket from her saddle bags with her mouth and waving it in front of his face with a big smile.

“Uh, what is the ticket for, anyways?” he asked, keeping his face toward the filly but glancing around to see if any police were watching.

“It’s for the Fillyscouts Ball Dance!” she said, letting the ticket go when she opened her mouth. She watched the ticket flutter to the ground, after which she grabbed another ticket from her bag and waved it in front of the Summoner’s face with her smiling mouth.

“Sorry, Ether, but I am not the kind of stallion to associate with balls.” The Summoner looked around, and noticed that his companions weren’t by his side anymore. Turned around in attempt to find them, but only found the filly relentlessly following him.

The Summoner’s answer replaced Ether’s smile with a frustrated scowl. She became even more flustered when he continued to turn away from her. Then she noticed a pocket with gold trimming on the front of his black coat, which put an idea into the filly’s head.

When the Summoner took a moment to stop turning around, Ether took this as an opening and lunged for the cloak pocket, trying to shove the ticket into it. The pocket itself was higher than she was tall, so she jumped up, latching onto the Summoner’s neck to get a good angle of attack.

“AH! Rabid child! Rabid child! Ack! Ack!” the Summoner screamed and choked as he began running around with a blue ball of filly swinging from his neck. Ether repeatedly bashed into him with her head as she tried to aim for the pocket.

Being tackled by a child was a rather new experience for the Summoner, so he had no real way of dealing with the situation at hand. His mind went into panic mode as he flailed about, leaving his logical processes to his reflexes, which told him to deal with the situation like he would with any Bronxican soldier, with cold hard steel.

His hoof instinctively went to grab his twisted sword from under his cloak, but it was blocked by a head-butting filly that was giving his throat a death hug. Without realizing what he was doing, his hoof punched Ether in her side as he went for his blade.

The filly almost let go of the ticket with the force of the punch, but she held on to both the ticket and the Summoner’s neck. She needed to find a better angle for her attack, which she decided would be higher than she was. She swung her back legs up to the side of the Summoner, who flailed in the right direction to have Ether kick him in the area where he kept his blade.

“OW! Mother!” he screamed as the metal bashed him in the side, stinging him from the force. The stress on his neck was beginning to cut of circulation to his head, causing him to see more new colors that he didn’t know existed until that day.

“Ether! Get down right now!” a nearby female voice yelled out. Both Ether and the Summoner turned to see a gray mare standing, holding saddlebags on her back and a furious snarl on her face. “I mean it, Ether. Let go now,” the mare commanded again, stomping a hoof against the ground to emphasize the point.

Ether’s face was overcome by dejecting frown. She loosened her grip from the Summoner’s neck, dropping onto the ground. The Summoner took in a large gasp of air as he rubbed his air-passage with a hoof as it found relief once more. Ether kept her head down and avoided eye contact as she shuffled over to the gray mare.

“What were you thinking?” the mare berated the filly. “You know better than to attack random strangers. We’ve talked about this.”

The blue filly scraped a hoof in the ground. Her head followed the dirt pile that accumulated around the hoof as it moved. “I was just trying to sell a ball ticket.”

“That is not how you sell tickets to anypony. In fact, that is not how you treat anypony, period. Now what are you do you have to say to this gentleman?”

Ether turned towards the Summoner and looked at a speck of dirt to her left as she mumbled an incomprehensible string of words.

“Ether, I want you speak up.”

The filly sighed as she mumbled the string of words again, only to be heard be the Summoner this time, but still looked away from his face. “I’m sorry for attacking you.”

“Ether, I want you to look him in the eyes and say it.”

She slowly turned her head from the ground to the Summoner’s face, meeting his gaze with hers. She squinted as her eyes were turning red. Little beads of water were beading up at the corner of her eyes. Her mouth quivered as she tried to produce her phrase. “I’m sorry.”

She quickly turned to dart off in a random direction away from the adult ponies. “Ether, come back!” the mare yelled as the filly turned a corner behind a building. “Oh, for the love of… I apologize for that. She’s usually really sweet. She just gets carried away sometimes. Are you alright?”

“I am fine. I have taken far worse beatings.”

“Good to know,” she said as she darted off to catch the runaway filly, but stopped to turn back to the Summoner. “Uh, is there anything I can do for you to make up for it?”

“Actually, yes, have you seen two other cloaked ponies walking around? One is a mare and the other is an old hag.”

“Yah, I saw the old one chewing out a pony about not understanding her artistic vision or something. Sorry, I have to go.” The mare turned back around to follow the filly’s tracks. “Ether! You are going to be so grounded once I find you!”

The Summoner watched the gray mare run around the building corner, leaving the sound of her yelling voice behind. He brushed off some dust from his shoulder, acting like nothing had happened. “Darn it, Sweetie Belle, this is not the time to leave the group behind. We have a job to do.”

“Excuse me, how do you know my name?” a squeaky voice behind him asked.

The Summoner turned to find three fillies standing behind him who may have watched the entire debacle unfold. They were at least a couple years older than the previous filly, and probably significantly less aggressive.

“Which one of you asked that?”

“That would be me,” the unicorn in the middle of the trio replied, raising a hoof to indicate her position. The unicorn filly was oddly familiar looking, having a white coat and pink curly mane. The Summoner could have sworn he had seen those green eyes somewhere before, then it hit him.

“Oh, I was not referring to you. I was referring to my grandma.”

“You have a grandma with my name?”

“Actually, my grandma is… you.”

“Uh, that’s a little creepy.”

“I am starting to see why I got the court order in the first place. But do not worry, I am a time traveler. Should that make it less creepy?”

Sweetie Belle looked at both of her friends, who were trading her questioning glances. After a moment of looking back between each other, Sweetie Belle turned back to the Summoner. “If you’re a time traveler, then prove it.”

“And why should I have to do that?”

“Because we just witnessed an assault on a filly, and the police would be happy to receive an eye-witness report of the assailant’s actions.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Cutie marks,” she replied, pointing to a spot on her flank that what the same white as the rest of her. “We’re getting desperate at this point. Doing that may have results, it may not. It’s worth the risk.”

“Good Luna, you are even more devious when you were young.” He scratched his head as he tried to think of a way out of the situation. “Would you mind if I taught you a type of magic from the future instead?”

“Depends. What’s the magic?”

“Summoning. It’s my special talent.”

Celestia stared at the sandwich sitting on a platter before her, though she was hesitant to call it a sandwich. It looked more like a brick covered in toad skin. She poked one of the green lumps baked into the break with a hoof, testing to see if it would move. The sandwich made a squirting sound as she pressed down on it, secreting an oily liquid from underneath.

“Uh, Spike, what is this supposed to be?”

“That’s a sandwich full of olives, Twilight,” Spike replied as he removed a bottle of mustard from a picnic basket and placed it with an arrangement of condiments on top of a checkerboard cloth. “It was the only thing in the fridge.”

“Why was Twilight so obsessed with this stuff?” Celestia asked. She tried to pick up the sandwich, but the olive contents within it ripped a hole through the soggy bread, plopping back onto the platter.

“You’re Twilight, you should know why.”

“For the last time, Spike, I am not Twilight. I’m Princess Celestia. Get it right.”

“Twilight, I’m getting a little concerned about this delusion of yours. You’ve become a lot more hostile ever since you thought you were the sun god.”

Celestia ran a hoof down her face. “Spike, I am- oh never mind. At least tell me you bought something from the deli.”

The little dragon shook his head as he leaned back against the picnic basket. “I couldn’t. Apparently the stallion running the place left to be the princess of deli sandwiches somewhere else.”

“Oh, for Luna’s sake, just because the princess of the land declares everypony a princess doesn’t mean everypony gets to leave their jobs! They still have an economy to run.”

“Actually, I don’t think it had anything to do with that. Rarity told me the guy became the princess of deli sandwiches before the declaration. I tried asking more about it, but she just kept changing the subject.” Spike reached into the basket to pull out a long blue sapphire gem.

“Huh, never heard of that title. Must be for some small group of stallions that like… Oh.” The princess’s eyes went wide as a certain image came to mind. “Oh dear.”

“What?”

“It’s, um, you’ll figure it out when you get a certain age.”

“Really? You’re going with that excuse again?” He took a bite out of the sapphire in is hands. “Honestly, adults are always keeping the good secrets from kids, it’s no wonder you all are always bickering about one thing or another.”

“Trust me, you don’t want to know that secret.”

Spike shrugged as he took another chunk out of the sapphire with his teeth. “You wouldn’t happen to know anypony that wears a black cloak, would you?”

“No, why do you ask?”

“No real reason, there’s just a pony wearing a black cloak behind you,” he said, pointing with the chewed up gem behind Celestia.

Out of curiosity, Celestia turned to see the pony Spike was talking about. When she looked over her shoulder, she came face-to-face with a wrinkled white face breathing heavily on her own face. They eyes of the face were hidden by a black hood that cast a shadow on the rest of the face.

Celestia leaned back to remove herself out of the range of the pony’s breathing. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

The pony forced out an agitated puff of air, following up with a creaky voice. “Traitorous swine.”

“Now, that’s not a nice thing to call somepony, especially a young dragon,” Celestia replied, nodding over towards Spike, who remained oblivious as he pulled out an emerald from the picnic basket. “Does that cute little guy look like a traitorous swine to you?”

“I wasn’t referring to the dragon,” the pony replied. Celestia turned her head away to avoid the breath of the pony, who seemed like the kind of mountain dwelling hermit that didn’t know how to brush her teeth. “I was referring to you, Ms. Traitor Sparkle.”

“Alder Sage, I do not think you should be doing this,” a voice from behind the pony. Celestia looked behind the cloaked pony’s head to see another cloaked pony, who was walking up to the conversation. “You already made Noteworthy aware of his faults in his criticisms towards your artistic works. One pony breaking out in tears is enough for one day.”

“That’s different. Any pony can criticize art. It takes a special pony to betray her entire country.” The Alder Sage closed the distance with Celestia, shoving a hoof against the base of her neck. “Isn’t that right, Purple Princess of Betraying the Nation you were Serving?”

“She does not seem like the kind of pony to betray an entire nation.”

“Well, in the old kook’s defense,” Celestia interjected, “betraying Equestria does sound like something I would do.”

“Ha!” the Alder Sage grinned, pointing at the other cloaked pony. “Even the Great Traitorous Twilight Sparkle agrees with me!”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not Twilight Sparkle.”

“Oh.” The smile dropped on the Alder Sage’s face. “Then who are you?”

“I am Princess Celestia. I’ve come under a recent illness that makes me look like Twilight Sparkle.”

“Ah, Princess Celestia. Sorry about that, you’re cool in my book. That must be an awful curse, looking like Twilight all the time.”

“No worries,” Celestia said. She turned her head towards Spike, raising her voice to make she the dragon fledging could hear. “At least there’s someone who understands my predicament.”

“Woop-de-doo, I’m glad there’s somepony that believes you,” the dragon replied, swallowing a chewed up gem. “Your campaign to make you the high mighty princess starts with one lone hobo, who,” he leaned to the side to get a better look at the Alder Sage, “looks like she just came from a cult meeting… Wait a minute, is that you, Rarity?”

“Nope, but you’re close” the Alder Sage said, pulling her hood behind her head with a green aura, revealing a shriveled white face, curly pink and silver mane with a horn sticking out, and a pair of green eyes. “I’m Sweetie Belle, from a far distant war-torn future.” She stuck out her hooves in front of her and waved them up and down. “Wooooo! Spooky future Sweetie!”

“Yeah, that’s, um, that’s interesting. Did you both time travel here, or did you pick her up along the way.”

“Both of us, though we had another guy hanging out with us. No clue what happened to him.”

“You left him alone standing in the middle of a town square,” the other cloaked pony answered.

“Oh yeah. Apparently he couldn’t handle the awesomeness of the past.”

“I feel like I should be worried about this,” Celestia said, “since I am the Princess of the Sun. Yet I am inclined to not care at the same time. It’s a weird feeling.”

“Well, keep on not caring. If he does anything, it’s not going to be anything near as bad as what Twilight Sparkle did.”

“What did she do?”

“If I recall correctly, she abandoned Equestria at the start of the war, leaving millions to suffer at the hooves of the Bronxicans.”

“Heh, that does sound bad,” Celestia said, looking away to try to avoid eye contact. “Definitely something that I, Princess Celestia, will not be doing. So, what do you think your friend is doing, anyways?”

Sweetie Belle shrugged. “No clue. Probably just standing where he was, not making any trouble what-so-ever. I’m sure he’s fine.”

On the other side of Ponyville, were the trees only grow apples and the place of residence is a cottage, under the shady branches of one of the local tree crops, the Summoner oversaw the development of what he could say would be the finest summoning circle he had ever seen made by three fillies. He didn’t make them do much of the demanding work the higher level circles requires, but the girls didn’t disappoint in bringing in the right materials for such a shape.

“Mister Summoner, why did you need us to bring us this stuff?” the white unicorn pony filly asked, referring to a bag of miscellaneous objects.

“Well, it is part of the summoning circle,” the Summoner explained. “You cannot have a summoning circle without the proper materials.”

“I get that. What I’m asking is what are they supposed to do when we activate the circle?”

“Oh, that is a better question than what I thought you asked. Look at the points of the star.” He pointed a hoof at the sigil drawn out in the grass. The lines that made up the figure were made up of a fluffy black material that sparkled with red glitter, the material being laid out in a circle with a ten-point star in the center. “The materials I had you three mix together earlier, the steel wool and the ruby dust, they will separate evenly and spread out to each of the star points, alternating between the common material, the steel wool and the rare material, the ruby dust, between each point. Then they burn up and form a portal to pull the summoned object to the star.”

“Is there a reason the star?” the yellow earth pony asked, putting her face close up to the substance spread out through the grass. “Couldn’t we make a more efficient shape, like a bunch of hexagons?”

“If you can find another shape that focuses the energies of the universe into a single point, then that would be acceptable.” The Summoner began to walk around the sigil, judging the point to ensure nothing was out of place. “The reason for the star points it to provide a location for the focal point to originate. You can call the universe energy to serve you without the star, but without a point of reference, it will only spread out across space and time as useless heat.”

The orange pegasus, who was leaning back against the stump of the tree, let out a long groan. “Oh, for Luna’s sake, this is so boring.”

“Well, I find this fascinating. I love to watch all the materials clump together and light up to”-

The pegasus cut the Summoner off. “The work to make that happen is boring. Can’t we just skip to the cool stuff? The last time we summoned something it was epic and we didn’t have to do anything at all. Why can’t you teach us how to do it without the work?”

The Summoner gave the pegasus a confused look. “You managed a summon without a sigil before? What happened?”

The pegasus shrugged her shoulders and crossed her forelegs. “We were just playing soccer with a magical orb and, out of nowhere, it broke and we summoned a giant octopus demon thing.”

“We’re still grounded for that,” the unicorn added.

“You summoned a giant? You do realize how impossible that is. It may have been the universe going a little crazy.” The Paladin let a little grin pop up on his face. “Though, you three did go a little crazy with the star. Usually, I use a four-point star for my summons, since any more points would be inefficient for my purposes. Though I have no idea what a ten-point star will do in this time period.”

The pegasus perked up a bit hearing this. “So, we’re going to summon another giant?”

“I did not say that. I said that I do not know what will happen. We can only find out if we do the summon. That is, if the three of you are ready to do it.”

All three fillies nodded. The pegasus jumped up from the side of the tree as the Summoner gestured for them all to gather around the sigil. Each of them took a point at a quarter mark, facing inwards towards the center of the star.

“So, what do we do to activate the circle?” the unicorn asked.

“All you need to do is ask the universe.”

“You mean just ask it?” the pegasus asked. “As if we were asking it to pass the salt?”

“Yes, but you have to be a bit specific when you ask. Go into a bit of detail of what you want, and then ask in a polite, but firm, voice. What exactly do you want to summon?”

The fillies looked around as they pondered about the Summoner’s question. The unicorn traced circles as she pondered on the subject. The pegasus scrunched her face as she wondered what would be the most awesome thing she could summon to impress a nonspecific idol. The earth pony’s face, on the other hand, lit up as she almost immediately came up with the perfect idea.

“Universe,” Applebloom, without missing a beat, began speaking in a loud, firm, yet polite voice, “May you bring us a mighty creature from afar to scare the bullies of our school, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon, and make them stop being bullies, please.”

Then the magic began.

To be continued…

Author's Note

If you're coming over from EQD, I recommended reading a few chapters back, because I bet you're slightly confused with some things going on right now.

Written for the WTD for the episode in which the Sweetie Belle toils. You know, that trippy episode with the dream stuff and the other stuff. Yep.

I need a volunteer artist! For the clip art on this story. I don't know if you noticed, but the stack of books is taken from a stock image from the internet. I don't want to be known for a stock image, I'm too conceited for that! If you would like to make a clip art for this story, send me a pm before or after you make it. Just incorporate something from somewhere in this entire compilation.

The "God" That Failed

By A Random Guy

Coffee was one of those miracles of life nopony thinks about unless they just flopped out of bed. The main ingredient of coffee, caffeine, is a lowly organic compound that, due to certain chemical bonds that are compatible with some neuroreceptors, gives any sentient creature a kick in the bum to jump start their day. Coincidentally, caffeine can only be found in universes with sentient creatures in them.

But in order for that magical chemical compound to work, one needs the organic chemistry to intake it. Dranorth did not have the organic chemistry to intake it. If Dranorth were to drink a cup of coffee, it would be akin to dumping a glass of lemonade on top of a rock. The rock can’t taste the lemonade, but congratulations, you just accelerated its erosion process with citric acid, bringing it another step closer to being a mere grain of sand. Though, if you were to pour lemonade on Dranorth, he would just wash it off and change his clothes and not bother complaining.

Technically, Dranorth could be classified as a rock. He would be a pony shaped rock that could move, interact, communicate, and wipe out an entire planet with either a gravity well or electrical storm, but by being made out of a solid material that’s ejected out of black holes, he is technically a rock. And since rocks don’t have the capability of enjoying the benefits of caffeine, Dranorth couldn’t drink coffee.

Though he will admit ordering a latte at a café can make you blend in quite well when you don’t want to be noticed. The one he was at, the patio of the Ponyville Café, served quite ordinary lattes. He had placed his drink on top of his table in front of him, inserting a straw into the cup and putting the other end into his mouth. To any pony that bothered to look his way, they would see a purple stallion dressed in a suit jacket, tie, and bowler hat (all made of the same dark grey material) sipping up his daily intake of caffeine through a straw. A pair of darkened circle-lens glasses allowed him to look where ever he please without making eye-contact with anypony that did bother to look his way.

Behind those circle-lens glasses, his eyes picked up the sight of a small group of ponies walking down the street towards. Within the group were a stallion and a mare huddling close to each other, nuzzling one another, while another mare walked next to them, giving such an obvious eye-roll that even Dranorth saw it from his position.

He blotted out the group out of his vision as he focused into the middle of it, where the mare of the couple was pushing a stroller forward with the magic from her horn. Dranorth noted the passenger within the stroller, a fuzzy yellow blanket wrapped around tiny orange unicorn head. A long tuff of brown hair that was poking out of the blanket covered one of the eyes that were closed shut. Scaling Voice was the unicorn’s name, Dranorth recalled.

He took a long sip of his drink as the group came closer to the café patio. Despite the distance, he could have easily picked up on the conversation that was going if he wanted to, but he toned them out as his attention was drawn to the silent member of the group. The little unicorn colt, all too innocent still, hadn’t developed the cognitive skills to understand what the older ponies were discussing. Fortunately, he soon wouldn’t need to learn how to deal with that set of parents. It was only a matter of minutes for him, and he would be free-

“Oh good Luna, I finally found you!” a voice said, bringing Dranorth’s train of thought to a jarring halt.

He glanced away from the group and directed his attention in front of him, was a teal unicorn had taken a seat, or at least, what Dranorth thought was a unicorn. The stallion unicorn he was now facing didn’t have a horn. Instead, splitting apart a straight blue mane that was coming down from his cranial crown, was a bone, sticking straight out from his forehead. It was not the kind of bone from a horn, though. It was as if someone ripped the bone out of a leg and stabbed it right above the stallion’s eyes. It was that kind of bone, and it looked permanent.

“You’re such a hard guy to find, you have no idea what I went through to get here,” the stallion said, smiling as he waved at the waiter. “At first it sounded easy, find the god with the funny looking hat, that’s what the White Mare told me. How hard could be? So, I go out- uh, a glass of water, if you don’t mind. Thank you- I go out to find a god with a funny hat. Turns out there’s several hundred gods that like funny hats, tree god has a tree hat, squirrel god has a nut hat, camo god has a hat that says ‘I’m not the Camo God’, I guess it comes with the territory. So I ask the White Mare about it, and she tells me what hat to look for, and I go out again to… to… Uh, are you alright?”

The “god with a funny hat” simply stared forward as he sipped his coffee. He could have been staring anywhere else, but a forward stare was the easiest of them all, and the unicorn with the leg bone for a horn just so happened to be in the line of that stare.

The smile on the unicorn faded as a concerned look overtook his face. He leaned in forward, stretching out his hoof over the table. “Um, hi. My name’s Femur. They call me that from the, um,” he tapped his bone horn with the outstretched hoof, “the bone, the bone that’s sticking out of my forehead. It’s a, um, it’s a femur, in case you were wondering. You are Dranorth, right?”

The “god” that was still sipping his coffee held out his hoof to shake the, pulling it back after a couple of shakes.

“Well, that’s good to know, I guess,” Femur mumbled, pulling his hoof back as well. “Um, Dranorth, I take it you’re a straight forward kind of guy, so I’m going to be straight with you. I have been following you across the multiverse, or more precisely, I’ve been following your trail, or even more precisely,” he tapped his horn again, “my femur’s been following your trail. It’s really sensitive to changes in the universe, and you have been leaving a lot of changes in the universes you’ve been to.”

Dranorth continued sipping his coffee. He noticed the group coming down the street had stopped in front of the bank building next door. None of the adults had gone inside yet. Whatever conversation they were having, it was still going on.

“It hasn’t been this twitchy in ages. I don’t think it ever was this active since, well, I don’t know. But I don’t think it’s a good sign. So, if my femur is correct, and it usually is, I believe a lot of bad things are heading your way, really bad things.”

Dranorth stopped his sipping, leaning back and letting the straw slip out of his mouth. He kept his dark circle-lens glasses pointed towards the unicorn, hiding his eyes as he kept them on the group. “Look kid, I’m immortal, and back where I came from, I got threats like that all the time. They lost their charm after the first five hundred million years. Granted, a lot of those threats did happen, but I’m still alive. And I’ll still be alive for the next several trillion years of threats.”

“I’m not threatening you, I’m asking for your help.”

“For?” Dranorth asked, raising an eyebrow.

The waiter came back with Femur’s glass of water. He smiled and said thank you. He grabbed the rim of the cup with his teeth, tilted his head back so he could sip some water, and placed it back on the table.

“Ah, I needed that. Where was I? Oh, yes, your help. I need your ability to change the universe.”

“I wasn’t aware I had this ability.”

“You do. Where ever you go, the natural order of things is changed. Things that the gods predict can’t be predicted anymore. You’re twisting universe around into shapes that they shouldn’t be in. I can feel it, and the gods aren’t happy.”

“Really? It doesn’t feel any different than from where I came.” He stuck a hoof in the air, waving it in circles as if he was trying to grab something out of thin air. “Nope still the same,” he said as he put it down. “I think you pulling my leg.”

“It’s not something you can feel physically. You need years of training to-“

“Oh for god’s sake, don’t start lecturing me about feeling out the fifth dimension or something metaphysical like that. I had nine trillion years to figure that stuff out on my own.”

“Well, I can tell you that things are changing now that you’re here. And this multiverse needs that to get better.”

Dranorth noticed that the mare of the couple was handing the stroller to the other mare. “So I can change things without meaning to. What does the multiverse need me for then, changing a light bulb?”

Femur’s mouth widened with a grin of excitement. “You could do even more! For eons, the gods have been maintaining everything in a defined order! Everything was set in stone. Actions, movement, thoughts, events, it’s all laid out. The gods oppressed mortals as they tried to change their destinies, restricting time travel, paradoxes, and other universe alterations. But you, you don’t follow those rules. You change things just by existing. You have the power to free us all!”

Dranorth could not show any other expression on his face that wasn’t a deadpan stare. “Oppression versus freedom, it’s that kind of job?”

Femur’s grin grew as the unicorn’s head nodded in excitement.

“Jesus Christ, you’re suffering from entitled white kid syndrome.”

“Yeah- what?” Femur’s grin slipped off his face a bit.

Dranorth shifted all of his attention to the poor unicorn, raising his voice as he leaned forward. “For all your life, you’ve lived in a multiverse where all you’re discussions have been predetermined by some higher power. Sure, that’s oppression, but that’s sure a whole lot damn better than living under my kind of oppression!”

Femur shrunk back as the “god with a funny hat” took on a little nastier expression than he cared for. “Like what?”

Dranorth pointed a hoof out to his left, not paying attention to where exactly he pointed. “Hundreds of universes away, there is a wall. This wall is the wall of a giant multiverse bubble that contains one of the most god-forsaken places of the entirety of reality. Behind this wall, there lives thousands of extremely powerful beings, just like me.” He pointed his hoof at himself. “Imagine living in a world where the children are trained on how to evacuate a universe when a sociopath with god-like powers comes around. Imagine going to bed at night and not being able to sleep because you don’t even know if there’s going to be a planet to wake up on in the morning. Imagine having to constantly worry if you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time when two guys just like me decide that they want to blow each other up over a freaking sandwich! Are you imagining that?”

Femur nodded his head feverishly. “Yes, vividly in fact.”

Dranorth lowered his voice, letting his words seethe out from his teeth. “Imagining that will be the closest you will ever be to true oppression. You can have your dictators. You can have your police states. They will oppress you in their own ways, I can guarantee that, but you can still live in them if you keep your head down. The greatest oppression is the fear that your life depends of forces beyond anyone’s control. That happens behind the wall. Behind that wall is the definition of anarchy. That’s the irony of it all. You have the greatest oppression when you have the greatest freedom.”

Dranorth leaned back from the table back to his sitting position, giving room for Femur to lean back up. “Quick question, what’s a dictator?”

The “god” threw his head back and sighed. “Oh right, I forgot, this is the multiverse of colorful naïve magical ponies. Why would I expect you to know about dark stuff like that?”

He tilted his head towards the group, who didn’t seem to have taken notice of his little outburst. The couple left the stroller with the second mare, who was holding a stuffed animal for the passenger to play with. The couple walked into the bank, leaving their full trust with the mare.

“Hey, after all that ranting, you still haven’t said if you’re going to help or not?”

Dranorth glanced back at Femur, and crossed his forelegs on top of the table. He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow as he said, “So, you want me to help change things?”

“Yes.”

“And so far, I’ve been changing things just by doing what I’ve been doing, is that what you’re telling me?”

“Yes.”

The “god” nodded, letting the idea of the unicorn sink in. He rolled his head back, letting Femur see his eyes from underneath the glasses. The corner of his lip stretched into a smirk. “By what you’re telling me, what I am about to do is going to change a lot of things… Tell you what, I’ll tell you what I’m going to do, then I’ll let you decide if you still want my help, and if you still do, I’ll let you go away and I’ll still continue to do what I’m about to do. Sound fair?”

“I guess that does,” Femur nodded. “What are you going to do?”

“Welp, over the span of my very long life, I have learnt to do many things quite well. For instance,” Dranorth raised his right foreleg up, “I can manipulate gravity with my mind,” the right flap of his suit jacket opened up, as if pulled by an invisible hand, “I can forge documents,” a manila molder full of papers floated out of the suit jacket flap and hovered in midair above the center of the table, “and I can make electricity,” a small brown box floated out in suit of the folder.

“Well, the floating thing is nice, but any unicorn can do that,” Femur said as he poked the folder floating in front of him.

“Yes, but imagine being one of the few unicorns in a world full of uninteresting hamsters. That was the situation I used to be in.” The box and the folder dropped softly on top of the table. “These forged documents,” Dranorth said, tapping the folder with a hoof, “are ‘proof’ of my residency and citizenship of Equestria and this fine universe. Plus there’s a pack of adoption papers in the back. Trust me, it’s all necessary.”

Femur rubbed the back of his neck as he looked at the items in front of him. “Okay… what’s with the adoption papers?”

“They’re adoption papers. You know, for filing for adoption. It’s kind of necessary for pulling a kid out of the foster system.”

“I mean why do you want to adopt a kid?”

Dranorth shrugged. “I can’t really take care of a kid if he’s still in the system.”

“Raising a kid? That’s your big plan?”

“Yep.”

“But that’s… a little dull. I was expecting something more than that.”

“Were you expecting a revolution? I can give you a revolution, easily. I just don’t care enough to do so.” An invisible hand pulled at the folder, sliding it across the table and back up into Dranorth’s suit jacket. “If you’re just going to complain about a service I inherently do just by existing, go right ahead, but go away. Raising kids properly is just what I do. It’s a personal obligation.”

“I’m not complaining. Just… it doesn’t really entice change.”

“And is that what you want, change?” Dranorth asked raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, that’s what I always wanted.”

“Then why don’t I just teach you how to change things yourself. Will that get you out of my hair?”

Femur’s eyes widened at the idea. Being able to change the world against a god’s will, that was an offer he couldn’t refuse. “Yes… Heck yes! That would be awesome!” He jumped up from his seat, knocking the table, making it teeter around. “Yes, teach me! And I can teach other ponies! And we can change everything! Oh yes, what do I need to?”

The “god” smirked, pointing a hoof at the small brown box on the table. “You just need a little home brewed anarchy from behind the wall.” Femur noticed the space around Dranorth’s hoof waver, bending the light around it, distorting the shape of the hoof slightly. Then he heard a soft click as the tiny box split in half. The top half of the box opened up, swinging on a hinge connected to the bottom half.

When the top half of the box swung perpendicular to the table, it exposed the content of the cube. Femur stared into the shallow bottom of the box, where a small red button poked out, primed to be touched.

“Go ahead,” the “god” cooed, “Press is for change.”

The unicorn’s foreleg jolted out without hesitation, slamming his hoof against the button so hard that the top half of the box collapsed under the force. He heard a two beeps, and lifted his hoof to see the red button had lit up.

“Neat,” he looked up to the “god”, “What’s it supposed to do?”

“Five.” The button blinked.

“Five? What’s with the number?”

“Four.” The button blinked.

“Oh, it’s a countdown.”

“Three.” The button blinked.

“What’s it counting down to?”

“Two.” The button blinked.

“Are you just going to let it happen then?”

“One.” The button blinked, and then the light stayed off.

“Okay, what’s going to hap”-

BOOM

Femur was interrupted by the concussion blast that knocked him in the back of the head, sending him flying into the table, which hit him in the stomach. The pressure wave of air was instantly followed by a deep noise that stabbed into his ears with a bellowing ringing, which were flattened against his head by a hot gust rolling out from behind him.

As the noise and gusting wind dispersed, Femur could feel the organs in his body rattling around uncontrollably. He looked up to see the “god”, smirking at the unicorn as he took a sip from his coffee. A bright orange light danced in the dark circle-lens glasses of the immortal, who was basking in the yellow glow of the intense heat Femur was feeling from behind him.

The unicorn with bone for a horn turned around slowly. AS he turned, he could feel waves of heat licking his body, grazing his eyes as he turned. As he covered his face with his foreleg, the stench of charred plaster hit his nose, causing his other hoof to reflexively block his nasal passage.

He saw it first in the corner of his eye, fire. The fire grew in his vision as he turned around. When he had made a complete one-eighty in his seat, his entire field of vision was engulfed by a raging inferno. The sun was blotted out by a plume of darkness billowing out from the bonfire. At the base of the plume, a sign that read “Ponyville Bank” was rapidly deteriorating in the consuming blaze.

The ringing in his ears began to fade away, being replaced by an orchestra of crackling wood and panicking ponies. Screams barreled around the street as the Ponyville citizens scurried around like fire ants without direction. From the distance, Femur could hear a siren pierce through the chaos, but it seemed to only entice more anarchy from the populace.

“And that’s how you change things,” Dranorth spoke gently, somehow making himself heard over the barring sounds going all over the place. Femur turned back to the “god”, who continued to sip his coffee. “I’m sure you can use this to overthrow the shackles of oppression, if you want to call it that. Maybe you’ll spawn some crazies like ‘Ché’ Rivera or Eva Perón. I’m sure they’ll be happy to help you with your quest.”

“Wha- how… wha…” Femur looked back at the inferno, “Who… what”- his head shot back to Dranorth. “Good Luna, why in Tatarus would you do that?!”

The “god” sipped his coffee. “I wasn’t the one who pressed the button.”

“You know what I mean!” Femur exploded, flaring his nostrils and gnashing his teeth.

“If you paid more attention to your surroundings,” Dranorth said, pointing a hoof towards the blaze, “You would have seen two parents go inside the bank a minute ago. Well, they used to be parents.” His chuckle prompted a death glare to emit from Femur’s eyes. Dranorth ignored it and pointed over to a mare that was curled up against a stroller. “And you would have noticed the mare over there, who is utterly unprepared to look after her best friend’s son for eighteen years. Scaling Voice is his name, for the record.”

“You made a kid an orphan on purpose?!”

“It’s not all bad for the kid.” He tapped the side of his suit jacket, rustling the manila folder inside of it. “Coincidentally, I have the right papers to keep him out of the foster system.”

“This is not what I wanted! This isn’t changing anything!”

“You wanted change from oppression. I gave you anarchy. It’s exactly what you wanted, but you didn’t know it.”

Femur slammed his hooves against the table. “I’m going to make sure you will never get your hooves on Raising Voice.”

“Scaling Voice.”

“I don’t give a darn for what that colt’s name is, you’re not getting near him!”

Dranorth sipped his coffee, but only a slurping sound came from the straw. “You know, I might do messed up stuff like that,” he nodded towards the bonfire, “but I’m actually a great dad. I know how to protect my kids from that stuff. I protect them from the anarchy.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re right.”

“You’re not right either. That fire over there, that’s where you’re going to end up if you break away from order. Do you really want to live in a world where you have to worry about that stuff?”

“What I’m doing isn’t going to explode banks and burn ponies!”

“You say that now…”

Dranorth stood up from his seat. The cup of coffee was compelled by his mysterious force to be flung through the air into a nearby trashcan. “It’s been fun, but I have to prepare some files. The adoption process doesn’t occur by… itself…”

The “god” looked up past Femur when he noticed something flash from the blaze. Femur followed his gaze to the blaze, curious to see what he was looking at. Then he saw a flash as well. It was a small flash, but it was noticeable.

Then, a green wave of energy erupted from the smoke, dragging the carbonized air within a thin beam of light. The tongues or flames contorted to the beam, and shrunk down as the light absorbed the blaze.

Femur noticed that the light show was attracting the attention of the ponies that were previously rushing all over the just seconds before. Their screams died out as they were replaced by curious mutterings. All the faces basked in a teal glow that radiated across the street.

Another magical wave exploded from the blaze, this time possessing a red hue. And the wave reached out, the flames immediately died, leaving behind the charred remains of a former financial institution.

Both Dranorth and Femur watched as a small crowd of ten or twelve ponies groggily made their way out of the building. Ponies with burn marks charred hair limped through the crowd, replacing the screams from minutes ago with groans and complaints of dehydration.

However, two ponies shot out from the crowd, racing for the mare curled up against the stroller. When they reached the stroller, the pair picked up Scaling Voice from the stroller, breaking out into tears as they gave him the biggest embrace they could physically muster.

Femur turned back to Dranorth, the corner of his mouth stretched out into a smirk. “Hey Dranorth, do you know who they are?”

If looks could kill, Femur assumed Dranorth’s would have if he wasn’t wearing the dark circle-lens glasses. “You know damn well who they are.”

“Do you still need those forged papers?”

Dranorth remained silent, letting the scowl on his face do his talking for him. Femur basked in the spite being thrown at him, reveling in the “god’s” failure.

“I’m guessing your chance has gone now. I mean, two simultaneous accidents are going to look suspi”-

Femur yelped and jumped back as the table in front of him violently cracked apart. The pieces of table whipped around as the frame hovered and rapidly contorted around a singularity. The metal of the table slinked about a single point, condensing itself into a small metal ball.

When there was only the metal ball, the metal stopped flinging around. The object hovered in mind air for a moment, and dropped to the ground with a clank. Dranorth stared down the unicorn, lips stretched out into a snarl.

“You think one failure is going to stop me?” he seethed as tiny bolts of electricity began arcing across his body. “There are more children out there with parents that don’t deserve them. And the day is still young. There is still time for a freak electric storm. Heck, it might even take the planet down, who knows?”

A jingle emitted from the pocket of his suit jacket. Dranorth looked at the pocket, where a small black rectangle floated out. He tilted it away from himself to reveal a face of the jingling object that was lit up. After looking at the rectangle for a moment, a beep sounded out from it and the jingle stopped. The rectangle slid back into his pocket.

“Damn it Gary, I’m in the middle of something.” The “god” sighed as he turned away from Femur and the hunk of metal, walking away. “How did that kid end up in a different universe by accident?”

Femur watched Dranorth walk off, leaving the mess he made behind. “Bad things are heading your way,” he called out; a hint of anger could be traced in his voice, “Really bad things.”

Femur had absolutely no time to react when a powerful gravity well slammed into him and threw him across the patio, smacking him against the wall of the Ponyville Café. Somehow, how blow knocked his head hard enough to drill his bone horn through the wall of the building. He hung from the building from his horn. Somehow, even though he wasn’t a doctor, he could feel that he wouldn’t be walking for at least a few weeks.

Author's Note

Hey, notice the multiple chapters as indicated bar the chapter bar below? Maybe if you looked through those, some confusion could be relived and you cold enjoy other stuff I wrote that has some continuity.

Also, an artist, I need one!

See the author's notes of chapters 10,11,12 for details and sweepstakes.

Changing the Things That Came (Part 3)

By A Random Guy

When the Summoner opened his eyes, everything seemed darker than usual. This was odd, considering it had been the middle of the day just moments before. So why was he looking up at a night sky?

Then he realized that it wasn’t the night sky, but his eyes had adjusted to an extremely bright light moments before. “Oh, right, the summoning,” he said to himself. He always knew that summonings came with their own light show spectaculars, but this one seemed more spectacular than usual.

Apparently, this one had more “oomph” than usual. He was sure he was standing before the ritual, not lying in the grass looking up at the day-time sky. In fact, most of the ritual was a blur in his mind, which was unusual since most summonings were pretty memorable.

Shame, he always enjoyed watching the magic unfold when the summon occurs. It was always interesting seeing all the ingredients merge together through some unseen universal force, then watching it all converge into a glowing ball and have a creature come out of it. He never knew what he was going to see, since each process was unique to what the summon is. He hoped the fillies were able to see the magic.

Wait, there were fillies with him, and they just preformed a summon! And one of those fillies was his current boss and grandmother!

He rolled over and jumped up onto his feet, looking around to see what damage those three fillies had done. His head shot around, fearing the worst that could have happened, and it did. In the grass, under the apple tree, there was a massive circle of burnt grass from where the sigil was drawn, and where the fillies were standing.

His pupils shrunk to the size of pins when the realization hit him. “Oh no,” the Summoner muttered, “I killed my grandma.” His first instinct was to run away from the scene, as per usual when these things usually happened to him, but the thought that his filly grandmother dying at his hooves scared him enough to keep him in place.

“Oh crud, why me,” he moaned, his knees buckling, causing him to collapse back into the grass. “A paradox is going to fix this, right? I know she talked about this on the train, somewhere in all that time gibberish. Oh, Luna, they were so young! They did not even tell me their names!”

“Oh, we didn’t? Well, I’m Sweetie Belle, that’s Scootaloo and Applebloom.”

The Summoner’s head shot up and looked towards where he heard the voice. Sitting under another apple tree were three fillies, alive and well, sipping on straws that poked through their juiceboxes,

“Oh… so I am not going to prison again” he said as he got up from the grass again. “That is a relief.” He brushed off the grass blades that stuck to his cloak. “Do you remember the ritual?”

Scootaloo shrugged. “Eh, there wasn’t anything special to remember.”

“Uh, what do you mean?”

“It was boring.”

“Boring?! But, wha…” A stream of incomprehensible words poured out of his mouth. “It was a summoning ritual! It is a wondrous example of how mysterious and magical our universe is! How was it boring?!”

The pegasus shrugged again. “It was just something coming out of a floating light ball. If I wanted a light show, I would’ve watched Rainbow Dash do a sonic rainboom.”

“Well, can a rainboom make a living creature appear magically out of thin air? I think not.” The Summoner curiously turned his head to look around the orchard. “Speaking of which, where is that creature”- He stopped mid-sentence when he felt a tap on his shoulder, prompting him to turn around to meet the tapper. “Well, that answers that. What creature have you sum-um um ma mwah…”

The Summoner’s mouth sputtered as he made eye-contact with the creature in question, or rather, he made eye-contact with the bottom of its kneecaps. His gaze crawled up its legs and up the body, which had muscles tightly protruding out from all over. The skin was a pitch black, covered in scars and red stripes.

As his gaze went further up, he could see a pair of massive wings blocking out the sun, the light rays formed a halo that outlined the feathers. He looked even further, to the point he was looking straight up. Looking back down at him was a massive unicorn head, the same black and red striped skin pulled tight against the face. The Summoner wanted to say the creature had eyes, but he couldn’t tell with the pair of aviator glasses covering its face.

Then, the creature’s mouth opened, showing off rows of razor sharp teeth. “‘Sup,” it said.

“Um… hello.” The Summoner turned to Scootaloo. “How can you think that summoning an alicorn is boring?”

The pegasus took a long sip from her juice box before looking up at the Summoner. “We managed to summon a giant squid monster. Anything smaller just isn’t as impressive.”

“What do you mean not impressive?!” the large alicorn boomed. “I am Gilgamesh Megadeath of Epicness! Savior of Equestria twenty times in a row! God of all the Alicorns! Husband of Luna, Trixie, Twilight, Rainbow Dash, and others! How could you not be impressed with me?!”

“Oh, pu-lease,” Scootaloo said, “I don’t know about those other mares, but you could not be the Husband of Rainbow Dash. She’s married to the art off flying”

All ponies present experienced the odd phenomenon of a simultaneous eye-roll.

“I have a question,” Sweetie Belle said, “How do you spell your name?”

A twinkle of pride shone through the alicorn’s aye as his grin stretched with his ego. “Yes, that would be good for you to know. It would be a shame if the history books couldn’t get my name right, they would be wrong for centuries to come. They might get confused with the wrong Gilgamesh Megadeath just because they missed a ‘Q’ in the middle of my name. It is not something that”-

“Just spell it.”

“Alright, you don’t need to get all prissy about it, geez. It’s G-I-L-G… E, wait, that’s not right. It’s G-I-L-H, no, that’s wrong too. Uh, G-E-H… Give me a moment.” The epic deity sat down, rubbing his chin with the tree stump that was his hoof. “G-L-I-G, nope, G-M… G-A-M. Uh, ‘I’ before ‘E’ except after, or was it ‘I’ after ‘E’? But what came after ‘E’?”

Apple Bloom let out a yawn as the large alicorn’s hooves traced out shapes as he muttered strings of random letters. “Do you have a nickname? I think that would make things a whole lot easier.”

“Gilgamesh Megadeath of Epicness is my nickname.”

“Okay, what about your birthname?”

“I’m not going to tell you that.”

“Why not?”

The alicorn threw a little sass in his voice. “Because, Gary isn’t as cool as Gilgamesh Megadeath of Epicness!”

“You’re name is Gary?”

Gary gasped. “How did you know?”

“Lucky guess.”

“You’re not supposed to know my name! It’s forsaken by the gods for mortals to know my true name!”

“Don’t you think it’s easier to”-

“Oh, Mother Galactica has forsaken me!” the alicorn wailed, throwing his head up towards the sky. “My name is known! I will forever live in shame under these plebeians!”

“Dude, chill, you don’t need to get worked up over- did you just insult us?”

The giant alicorn fell to the ground and rolled on his back. “Oh, Mother, I ask of your assistance in my time of need! Save me from this wretched fate!”

In answer to Gary’s request, a rock dropped from the sky, plopping off his head and rolling to the Summoner’s feet. When it came to a standstill, the cloaked pony looked at the rock, on which he recognized a string of characters that were carved into the stone. “’You didn’t say please’,” he read aloud. “I think the universe wants you to use your manners.”

The Summoner looked up at the alicorn, who was rubbing the welt that was developing from the impact zone of the rock. “Um, can you please do something about this?” the alicorn asked, looking up to the sky.

Another rock fell from the sky in a similar fashion as before, this time cracking Gary’s aviator glasses when it shot at him. The Summoner read the words out loud when the rock rolled to him. “’No, you illiterate scab on the skin of reality. P.S: Stop calling me your mother.’ Wow, that is harsh.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s…” he paused as he sniffed, his voice increasing in pitch, “It’s how she usually talks to me. I’m used to it.”

Sweetie Belle leaned over within earshot of her friends. “Is the giant alicorn god crying, or am I just seeing things?”

Before her friends could respond, Gary rolled over onto his belly and got up from the grass. “Sorry, I have to go,” he said before turning around and storming away, sending trembles through the landscape with each of his stomps.

The Summoner and the three fillies watched the large alicorn run over the hill, wings outstretched as he was about to fly, but he seemed to forget that he had them. He turned to the fillies with a questioning look on his face. “What exactly did you say before the ritual started?”

Apple Bloom tapped her chin as she pondered on the question. “I think I asked to bring us a mighty creature from afar to scare the bullies of our school, and make them stop being bullies… more or less that.”

“Did you remember to say please?”

“Um, I might have?”

The Paladin wasn’t amused with the situation she was in, which was understandable since protecting ancient books from various liquids was usually an unamusing task. That wasn’t to say she wasn’t good at protecting ancient books from various liquids, she just was unamused.

“Oh, that was cool. What else can do with your voice?” Twilight Sparkle asked, or rather, Princess Celestia asked. There was some weird body switching going on and apparently Celestia was in Twilight’s place for some reason. The princess was rather vague on the details.

“Hmm, let’s see, that pony over there looks like he’s doing something important,” said the Paladin’s Alder Sage, who everyone else knew as a very old Sweetie Belle from the distant future. Time travel, what else needs to be said?

“I believe his name is Thunderlane. Luna said that he has some weird bondage dreams.”

“Shall we allow him to live out his dreams?”

Celestia grimaced with Twilight’s face at the thought. “You should pass on that one. I wouldn’t even force my worst enemy to watch those dreams.”

“Well, he’s an innocent bystander, and you’re a princess. An innocent bystander must serve his princess.”

“Now that I think about it, I am a bit parched. I think the innocent bystander should provide us with the proper sustenance for such a travesty.”

The Paladin threw a deadpan look at the duo. “You must be kidding. Do you remember the wine that Bon Bon threw all over us? It is still dripping from the hood of my cloak.”

“Oh, it’s not gonna stain,” said the Alder Sage. “Wine stains don’t show up on black. You’ll be fine.”

“I am less worried about my cloak as I am of the Diary,” she replied, tapping the book that her forelegs held close against her body. “Having ponies literally throw drinks at us is not good for the Diary.”

The Alder Sage let out a chuckle. “Lighten up, we’re in the past. It’s a vacation form all the doom and gloom from our time. You should enjoy yourself. Just watch and laugh. Ahem.” Her voice took on a fast-paced melodious tone as she broke out in song. “Make sure I'm drinking in the right, amount of fluids day and night, I wish I may, I wish I might, have just one little thing”-

“No!” the Paladin yelled. “You are not signing another song! I refuse to risk the safety of this book another time.”

The Alder Sage’s mouth opened wide, taking in a big gulp air.

“No, do not do it.”

Her open mouth further stretched into a big grin.

“Close your mouth, now!”

The Alder sage nodded, and her lips closed, though her grin remained.

“Thank you. I am glad you are being a little more considerate than usual.”

Sweetie Belle looked at Celestia with her big grin, tilting her head and raising an eyebrow. The princess returned the elder a sly glance and a grin of her own. The elder nodded towards the Paladin, to which the princess responded by vigorously shaking her head up and down.

“No, stop it you two. Do not conspire against me.”

Sweetie Belle turned back towards the Paladin. “Oh-would-you-please-finally-bring-me-that-tiny-glass… *gasp*… -Of water?”

“Oh, damn”-

“Did a princess order water?!” a dark-grey pegasus interrupted with glazed eyes staring off into nothing.

The Paladin turned away as the stallion threw paper cups of water at the group. A few of the cups ricocheted off her back, slashing water over the top half of her cloak.

“Thank you for using my services!” the pegasus yelled, running back from where he came.

The water started boiling off the Paladin’s cloak as her anger started a bonfire within her body. It added fuel to the pyre as Celestia and Sweetie Belle cripple themselves with their laughter, rolling around on the floor in a futile attempt to get up.

“I think it is best is best for the Diary if I were to leave this scene.”

“Aw, come on, it’s all in good fun.”

The Paladin shook her head as she got up to leave. “Nope, too many shenanigans going on.”

The princess reached out with a hoof as she walked away. “Don’t leave us. It won’t be the same without you. Think of all th- and she’s gone.”

“Ah, we don’t need her or her book. We got wine!” declared Sweetie Belle as she held up the corner of the wine soaked picnic blanket.

“Why was she getting so prissy over that book?”

“She thinks it’s the diary of our cult’s god or something. I don’t know, I found it in some rubble and gave her it one day and I told her something like that.”

“Does she believe anything you say?”

“Oh yes, down to the letter. I gave her some gibberish on a train about how we went back in time to stop a war. Silly girl, I just went back because I heard the past had good tacos.” The Alder Sage put the corner of the blanket in her mouth and started sucking at the wine-stained cloth.

The princess gave a sigh of relief. “Then there isn’t a future war that I have to worry about. That’s good to know.”

“Lady, I ain’t said nothing about not being war. I said I came back for tacos.”

“Well, you implied it.”

“I’m a senile old hag, I imply a lot of crazy things. And now I’m implying that I have done the impossible and traveled back in time for tacos.”

“Wait…” Celestia rubbed her chin as an idea boiled in her head. “Now that I think about it, you’re the only pony that I met from the far distant future, and I think there might be a problem with that.”

“So, just meet the other buffoons I brought with me. There you go, problem eliminated.”

Celestia shook her head. “That’s not the problem. The problem is that the only reason I’m meeting a time traveler from a war torn future is because she wanted a taco.”

“Why worry about that? I think it’s an excellent way to meet friends.”

“Just think about it. You’re the only time traveler I met. You could have come to stop a war, but you don’t seem to care about that.”

“I don’t care about many things, nor do I not don’t care about many others.”

“Yes, but there must be other ponies in the future who do care, and they would do anything to stop their war. But the pony who wanted a taco was the only one I met so far.”

“Are you trying to make a point? I feel like you’re trying to make a point.”

“What I’m saying is nopony else has come from the future, and that means nopony from the future is willing to protect their Princess in the past and time travel.”

“Seriously, that’s all you’re worried about?”

“I should be. It tells me that there’s a severe drop in patriotism from now and then. I need to do something about that.”

Sweetie Belle scooted closer to where the princess was sitting. “I might be senile, but I can give you excellent reasons why nopony care about you enough to time travel.”

“Did you have to say it like that?”

“Reason number one,” said the Alder Sage, holding out a hoof to indicate number one, “Nopony in the future knows how good the past tacos are.”

“Well, that’s a brand loyalty issue the taco companies have to”-

“Reason number two,” said the Alder Sage as she stuck out another hoof, “Everypony is a princess in the future. It makes your title.”

“I’ll blame Twilight for that one.”

“Reason number three,” said the Alder Sage as she stuck out her back-leg. “Time travel needs a paradox to work, and usually you do that by killing yourself by not killing yourself, and they don’t always succeed.”

“Er, how did you do that?”

“Drank a bottle of liquidized breezy wings. Makes me alive in the past and dead in the future. Don’t ask how that works, I’ll just ramble on and you’ll learn nothing. Reason number cuatro,” said the Alder sage as her tail rose to indicate the third number, “You didn’t start a cult.”

“Really, a cult?”

“Yep, you’ll get a following of unquestioning minions that do whatever you ask, and they obsessively promote your holiness. It’s free advertising, and will take care of your patriotism problem.”

“And how does one start a cult?”

“Brainwashing, looking cute, writing cheesy fan-fiction,” the Alder Sage deadpanned at a random guy that was walking by. “Just attract a few ponies and they’ll do the rest.”

“I’ll note to start one during my lunch break tomorrow.”

“Best part about a cult, since it’s considered a”-

As Sweetie Belle rambled on, a large figure poked over the hill behind them. The figure rose from the horizon, revealing its immense size, which the oblivious ponies didn’t notice.

When the figure was completely over the hill, it began to trot down the slope towards the picnic. When it noticed the get-together between the two ponies, it made a mad dash towards the otherwise peaceful.

“-monkey, and when you build your cult’s kitchen, you’re going to want to hire”-

The sound of the figure’s footsteps echoes through the landscape with each of its stomps. The ponies remained oblivious to the noise, though Celestia’s ear twitched as the sound grew closer.

“Do you hear something?”

The Alder Sage waved her hoof as if she was swatting an imaginary fly. “It’s probably an earthquake. I think they’ll come more often. Anyways, the bruiser will take care of-”

The figure was charging at full speed. When it was close to the picnic, it turned to its side and dug its large hooves into the ground, throwing mounds of dirt into the air as it skidded to a halt, casting a shadow across the mares.

“-Slicing up those babies into thin pieces. Then you want to roll them up into the dough and what the heck happened to the day?”

“Oh, did Luna forget to take her meds again? I swear, every millennium she- whoa,” said Celestia as she turned around, and looked up to see the giant figure towering above her. “Uh, hello, do you need something?”

The mares covered their faces to protect themselves from the wet storm that came out of the figure’s mouth. “Twilight, my love, I’m so glad I have found you. Comfort me.”

“Uh, do I know you?” Celestia asked as she tried to remember what happened that one night in Las Pegasus.

“It’s me, Gilgamesh Megadeath! We got married at Musical Victor’s.”

“No we didn’t.”

“Okay*,” said the alicorn as his head sulked to the ground.

* Arguments provided by Musical Victor’s Multiversal Merch-N-Vendors are not guaranteed to start outside of Musical Victor’s Multiversal Merch-N-Vendors.

“I have a question,” said Sweetie Belle, “How do you spell your name?”

A twinkle of pride shone through the alicorn’s aye as his grin stretched with his ego. “Yes, that would be good for you to know. It would be a shame- wait a minute,” he said as his ego and grin deflated and a scowl filled the void left behind, “I already did this. If you’re just going to make my mom hate me more, well I’m not going to fall for it.”

“Fall for what?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb. You’re gonna force me to spell my name, then make fun of me for not being able to, then you’re gonna make fun of my dumb real name, Gary, and then a rock is gonna fall from the sky and my mom’s gonna insult me and it’s gonna be kindergarten all over again! I am not falling for it!”

The Alder Sage and the Princess exchanged glances under the scowl of the immense alicorn. “I wasn’t going to make fun of you,” Sweetie Belle explained, “I just like knowing how to spell long names.”

The alicorn sniffed as he pushed up his aviator glasses with a hoof and rubbed his eyes. “Why would I tell you? You’re just gonna make fun of me by spelling it when I can’t.”

“Honey, I am a very old pony. I’ve had time to learn how to do things younger ponies don’t know how to do.”

“Well, I’m older than you, so ha!”

“I don’t think age has”-

“I’m five thousand years old, beat that!”

Sweetie Belle gave a little nod. “Alright, you’re older than me. But that’s not an acceptable age to not know how to spell your own name.”

“See right there, you’re making fun of me.”

“Hold on there, buckaroo, I was going to offer to help you learn.”

“I’m a pretty good singer. I can teach you a song to help you remember.”

Sweetie Belle could see the alicorn’s eyes light up behind his shades. “You will? How?”

“Well, I need the help of my princess friend.” The Alder Sage nudged Celestia in the side, who was looking off into the distance beforehand. She motioned for her to lean in closer, allowing Sweetie Belle to whisper something into her ear. The princess nodded as she went on, muttering an occasional “uhuh” or “yep” as the elder whispered.

When she was done with the exchange, the Alder Sage leaned back and smiled up to Gary. Celestia, however, remained in her leaning in position with a confused look on her face. “Why did I agree to do this?”

“Reasons. Now, Gilgamesh, since neither of us knows how to spell Gilgamesh, would you be fine learning how to spell Gary?”

“Pff, I know how to spell that.”

The Alder Sage gave a sly look. “Do you really?”

“Ya…” the alicorn hung his head in defeat. “Not really.”

“Alright, that’s fine. We’ll learn how to spell Gary. What we’re going to do is Twilight an I”-

“Celestia and I,” the princess interrupted.

“-Celestia and I will sing the song first, then you’ll sing the song after us. Does that sound easy?”

Gary nodded with excitement. “That does sound easy. I can do this.”

“Okay, now sit and listen. Ready, Princess Celestia?” Sweetie Belle asked the princess. The princess only responded by rolling her eyes.

Sweetie smiled and opened her mouth, letting a gentle melody flow out.

“She is a baby gosling and she starts with G,” sang Sweetie.

The princess rolled her eyes once more before she responded, without much enthusiasm. “Honk honk, I am a gosling and I start with G,” she deadpanned, doing her best lackluster impression of a gosling.

Gary stared at the mares as they continued on.

“She is a baby aardvark and she starts with A,” sang Sweetie.

The princess responded with similar enthusiasm as before. “Ark ark, I am an aardvark and I start with A.”

The alicorn continued to stare.

“She is a baby racoon and she starts with R,” sang Sweetie.

“Hiss hiss, I am a raccoon and I start with R.” The princess shrugged when Sweetie glared at her when she made the hissing sound. “What, I don’t know what other sounds raccoons make.”

Gary continued to stare.

“She is a baby Yorkshire and she starts with Y,” sang Sweetie.

“Uh… bark bark? I am a Yorkshire and I start with Y… Seriously, Yorkshire? That’s a dog breed, not an animal.”

The death glare Sweetie Belle shot at the princess was worthy enough to get her on the government watch list. “Do you an animal that starts with Y?”

“Yaks.”

“Well that doesn’t fit with the song. She is a baby yak and she starts with R, it misses a beat.”

Gary interrupted by raising his hoof. “I thought the Yorkshire was good.”

“Thank you Gary,” Sweetie Belle grinned at the Alicorn. “I think you can sing the song now. Do you want to try?”

“Uh, sure, I guess. Um, She is a baby gosling and she starts with G,” Gary sang.

Both Gary and Sweetie Belle looked at the princess, who was busy scraping out some dirt from her hoof. “What?” she asked when she looked up.

“Are you going to do your part?” Gary asked.

“Oh, fine. Honk honk, I am a gosling and I start with G.”

“Uh, can we start over?” Gary asked, “You messed me up.”

“Are you freaking kidding me? It’s the most simple song I’ve”- Celestia was interrupted by a hoof punch from the Alder Sage. “Ow!”

Sweetie looked back at Gary with her soft smile once more. “Go ahead, take your time.”

Gary smiled back as he cleared his throat to sing once more. “Ahem, She is a baby gosling and she starts with G.”

“Honk honk, I am a gosling and I start with G.”

Gary looked at Sweetie, who motioned to keep going

“She is a baby aardvark and she starts with A.”

“Ark ark, I am an aardvark and I start with A.”

“She is a baby racoon and she starts with R.”

“Hiss hiss, I am a raccoon and I start with R.”

“She is a baby Yorkshire and she starts with Y.”

“Bark bark, I am a Yorkshire and I start with Y. Good Luna, is it finally over?”

“Almost,” Sweetie answered. “Can you try to spell your name, Gary, using the song?”

The flustered alicorn nodded. “I can try. Umumum… She is a baby gosling and she starts with G… She is a baby aardvark and she starts with A… She is a baby racoon and she starts with R… She is a baby Yorkshire and she starts with Y… So, gosling, G, aardvark, A, raccoon, R, Yorkshire, Y?

“Yes, and when you put it all together?”

“G… A… R… Y?”

“Yes, that’s good. Do it faster this time.”

“G-A-R-Y. Gary. GARY!”

Sweetie let out a squee of excitement. “You did it, Gary! You can spell your name!”

“G-A-R-Y-G-A-R-Y! I can do it! I can spell my own name!”

“And you showed off your beautiful voice, too!”

Gary’s chipper mood suddenly and unexpectedly deflated. “I wish my mom would say I had a beautiful voice,” he said, each word sulking his head lower and lower.”

“Oh, um… oh,” Sweetie mumbled as she froze, forgetting the best thing to do in this kind of unforeseen situation.

“Well, this is awkward,” Celestia declared. “And awkward is entertaining! Bring on the awkward!”

Sweetie gave the princess another one of her death glares as she walked up to the base of the large alicorn’s legs. “Um, Gary, I know I’m not your mother, but I am another mare’s mother, so I am an authority on the matter, so listen to me and listen good.”

The alicorn looked into her eyes as she spoke.

“I don’t know why your mother doesn’t see you as anything but beautiful. But I do know that she is missing out, because standing in front of me is one of the most beautiful stallions I have ever seen.”

For the first time for what felt like eternity, deep within his black, red striped and scared, giant alicorn body, Gary felt something that he had never felt before. He didn’t know what to call this feeling, but he did know it compelled him to do two things.

The first thing felt like doing was to let the largest grin he had ever mustered stretch across his spiny teeth.

The second thing he felt like doing was lifting the enormous foreleg that was closest to Sweetie, and pulling her in for a hug, and Sweetie hugged his leg back.

Princess Celestia just sat there and pointed her hoof at her open mouth, doing what a mime would do if he was acting like he was puking.

“Oh great, now this is going to make me look the villain,” a new voice spoke outside of the picnic.

All present at the picnic looked over to where the voice originated. All who looked found a light grey mare, suspended in mid-air by a pair of transparent butterfly wings.

Gary waved at the mare with the hoof that wasn’t hugging Sweetie. “Hi, Flux. How’s it going?”

Flux nodded. “It’s going good, Gary. I didn’t expect you do be in this universe.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know how I ended up here. I was just in my castle and suddenly I was here.”

“Ah, well, do you want me to call Dranorth to come pick you up?”

The giant alicorn nodded.

“Alright, I’ll call him in a minute.” The hovering grey mare turned her attention to the mare that was embracing the alicorn. “As for you, Mrs. Belle, you are in violation of Temporal Protocol Form forty six dash seven b of this universe. You are accused of forced time travel and are hereby ordered to return to your time before further damage can be done.”

“Wait wait wait,” the Alder Sage let go of the giant hoof and walked over to the hovering mare. “You’re the time police? And you’re charging me with crimes that I wasn’t aware of breaking?”

Flux shook her head. “I am not arresting you, Mrs. Belle. You broke through a system that was fortified against breaking through. I am merely the plumber who has to replace the pipes you broke. You are just the mess after the breakage I need to clean up.”

“You’re sending me back to the future?”

“Yes.”

Terror coursed through the Alder Sages body, leaking out through her face. “You can’t do that! I died in the future! If you send me back, you’ll be killing another pony!”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Belle, but you weren’t supposed to break through the system in the first place. Now you have to deal with the consequences.”

“No, no, you can’t make me go back! I came to save you all!”

Sweetie tried to run away. She tried sprinting for the other direction, as far from Flux as possible. But her feet would not move.

“Celestia, help me!” she cried out. “You’re the princess, do something!”

She tried looking at the princess, but she could not move her head as well. Now that she tried, she could not move any other part of her body. She was stuck, forced to look at the grey mare’s brass colored eyes.

“Stop! You don’t know what you’re doing. I was trying to stop a war!”

The world at the edge of her vision began to blur. The blur started creeping further into her sight, like the spindly legs of a spider engulfing its prey.

She tried to say something, but her mouth could not move. She could only scream “Stop!” in her own mind. Her vision was fully blurred, and blackness was taking over now.

The blurred light that she could see shrunk smaller, and smaller, the size of a plate, then a cup, then a golf ball.

All that remained of her vision was a pinprick that jetted out against the eclosing darkness. Before she was fully engulfed, the last thing the elder felt, the Alder Sage of the Nightly Mother felt… Sweetie Belle felt… rolling down the side of her cheek, its path chilling her skin as it fell…

…A tear.

To be continued?

Yeah, I'm continuing it.

Author's Note

Confuddled? This chapter is actually a chapter of a larger whole. What, did you think this was just a mass of random stories in one compilation? No, it's not. I've been habitually weaving continuity throughout all the chapters in this Compilation. The Compilation is just a name. Call it a rose if it helps you. So, if you want, read all the chapters in this bloody thing, you'll see an overarching story unfold, and this bard is having a blast telling it.

On another note, I need an artist. See the Author Note in Chapter 10 (Changing the Things That Came (Part 1)) for more details.

Mad Mud Army Take Rainbow Falls

Mad Mud Army Take Rainbow Falls
By A Random Guy

Traditionally, Breezy societies don’t take titles in high regard. There were the Breezies that did work, and the Breezies that did a little less work but organized all the other Breezies. Even after ten years in in the world of ponies, those societal norms were still ingrained deep into Star Wisp’s mind. Of course her traditional ideals conflicted with the idea of promotions, but she wasn’t going rant over a little thing like that, especially since the unicorn she was riding seemed so happy about one such promotion.

Both he and his horn were glowing, he glowing with pride and his horn glowing with magic as it wiggled a plaque that read, “Camión Lechero, Ambassador of the Summoned Bronxican Revolutionaries and Lieutenant of the Bronxican Imperial Army,” (Translated from Bronxican) into a slat on the front of a door.

“So you got your own office now,” Star Wisp commented, looking up and down the wooden door. “I call dibs on the window sill.”

“Who said that you could move into my office?” Camión asked. His magic died down as he finished fiddling with the plaque.

“You wouldn’t deny a disabled girl a comfy bed, would you?” the yellow Breezy asked, nodding back towards two silvery stubs on her back where a pair of wings should have been. “I already have to sleep under your cot. It’s filthy under there, by the way. It’s hard cleaning out the dirt when I get a mudslide every time a giant sweaty soldier walks by. And speaking about those giant sweaty soldiers, I can’t walk two feet without nearly getting trampled by them!”

“And you think you’ll be better off in my office? I’ll hardly ever be in here to help you if you need anything.”

“You’re hardly ever here to begin with! There’s practically several hours every day when you’re spacing out with half of the military base, and the rest of the time you’re all military and stuff while I sit on your shoulder and twiddle my hooves.”

“You have me right now. Plus you have Rocinante when I’m phasing.”

“She’s being put on the Phasing Brigade in a week. There isn’t another tolerable pony in the entire base!”

“There’s Ojas de Rojas.”

“Don’t even joke about that!” the yellow Breezy snapped at Camión’s snickering. “That mare has it out for me!”

“Ojas doesn’t have it out for you. You just think she’s creepy.”

“She’s tried more than once to fire me out of a piece of artillery.”

“That’s just hazing. She does that to everybody.”

“I don’t think hazing a civilian is legal with any army.”

“Only if they press charges. Look, you’re going to have to find somebody to help you around when I’m phasing. I’ll be doing it a lot more, so it’s going to become a lot more necessary. Just find someone, and if it does turn out only Ojas is available, then I’ll talk to her. But I don’t think it’s going to get that dramatic.

“Teniente Lechero!” Their heads turned when they heard a brown mare’s voice call out from down the corridor. There were a lot of brown mares on the base, but there was one mare whose eyes offset her from the rest. In the dim light of the corridor, they could recognize those eyes that seemed to glow like the red of a setting sun. On paper, she was known as Capitán Anochequá. In legend, she was called Ojas de Rojas. The mere mention of her name was worthy of the strumming of guitar strings.

If it was any other pony in the base, Star Wisp would have ignored them and let Camión do his talking. However, when Ojas de Rojas strutted in, the air around her sent out subconscious signals that forced even the least disciplined of civilians to stand at attention. Despite instinctively stiffening along with her companion, the Breezy still managed to mutter under her breath. “Say the name three times, the Nightmare appears.”

When Capitán Anochequá spoke, her voice rang out like a hammer trying to drive a nail through steel. “Lechero, you are hereby notified that your services are requested earlier than scheduled. Your phasing is planned to be in less than two minutes!”

A confused look came up on Camión’s face. “I thought you had that timeslot.”

Capitán Anochequá shook her head. “Flu Mariposa changed that.”

“Oh, what trouble did she do this time?”

“Flu Mariposa discharged the marching Canterlot battalion in a small town on the way to the city. Fortunately, we have determined that the town is her home, so I will be going further back to eliminate the threat.”

“I didn’t know we had another summoner during that time period.”

“We don’t, but I had phased during a time when there was a large summon in the area in question. That makes me the best choice to phase into that area until we get another summoner in the town. But I need you to take my place.”

“Will the Presidente be aware of this when I phase?”

“No, this won’t occur until a week before when you’re phasing to. You’ll be directing when the Brigade phases.”

Star Wisp slayed across Camión’s back as she let out a groan. “Do you have to leave me with her?”

The Breezy let out a ‘meep’ when Ojas de Rojas’s fiery eyes overtook her entire field of view. “Yes, he can’t physically take his pet with him.”

“I’m not a pet! I am an intelligent being that requires guarding by Ambassador Lechero, your superior officer!”

“He’s Lieutenant Lechero outside of phasing, directly below me in command. “

“How did you even earn your command? Did you butter up the superior commanders with your ‘special eyes’?”

Camión rolled his eyes. “Star, please don’t antagonize my boss. I still have to work with her, and you’re”-

“-going to be… not complaining... That was a fast two minutes.”

Camión wasn’t in a corridor in a military base with a door that had a plaque that read, “Camión Lechero, Ambassador of the Summoned Bronxican Revolutionaries and Lieutenant of the Bronxican Imperial Army,” (Translated from Bronxican) and talking to a yellow Breezy and Ojas de Rojas.

Instead, he found himself inside what appeared to be a tent. A smell similar to burnt slat hung in the air, a scent that he was familiarizing with the phasing ritual. It was slightly dim inside. The only light source came from a slit on the side of the tent, presumably daylight coming from the outside. The light from the slit fell upon a stack of urns that were organized on the side of the tent.

“Welcome back, Ambassador Lechero.” The unicorn turned around at the sound the voice talking to him in Bronxican, to which he encountered a purple earth pony mare. Her purple mane was tied in a bun, which complimented the business suit she was wearing. “Though, I was expecting Capitán Anochequá. I didn’t think this needed such a high ranking officer.”

“Presidente Pastel, señora.” The unicorn stood at attention. “We have encountered the Flu Mariposa. She’s been sent further back to direct an assault.”

The Presidente grinned. “I’m curios why you weren’t sent after such a nuisance, but excellent none the less. I really like these fourth-dimensional tactics, solving our problems before they even happen. Have you been debriefed on the mission?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now, let’s go.”

Camión followed the Presidente out of the tent, which led to a vista of a sheer cliff, from which waterfalls of rainbow colors flowed down from the peak. Judging by how the air was, he could tell they were high up in a mountain range. He looked behind to see that the land they were standing on disappeared about fifteen yards away, giving way to a wide view of a countryside landscape.

Camión looked in awe as he followed his superior through the street, which was situated between rows of other tents. “Rainbow Falls. I’ve heard stories of its glory. Never thought I would be able to see it.”

“It’s actually the trading grounds of Rainbow Falls,” Uva Pastel noted, glancing at the traders who were doing their business. “But same city.”

The unicorn looked up at the sound of a whistle. He traced the sound to a pastel train that was riding up the top of the cliff. “Too bad it gets blown to smithereens.”

A chuckle came from the Presidente. “If all goes according to plan, we won’t need to blow up anything.”

“Bronxico didn’t destroy this place. The Equestrian army went crazy, or will go crazy, and will ruin everything here.”

“Interesting, I’ll become enough of a threat that they’ll take up a Scorched Earth policy. I love having people from the future.”

“Has everything been put in place?”

“The summoner has drawn the last of the sigils, the splatter cannons are primed, and the train has just arrived at the station. Once the sparks start flying, everything will fall into place, won’t it?”

Camión nodded. “This isn’t the first time I was called in for this assignment. I’ll be getting called in as backup to help support one of the cannons.”

“Out of curiosity, how does it feel, meeting yourself in the past, both of you fighting for the same cause.”

“I haven’t had that happen to me yet. I met some soldiers who have, and according to them, it’s a little disorientating.”

The Presidente nodded, bur before she could respond, Camión felt an electric tinge flow through him. It wasn’t a painful feeling, but was quite noticeable. He looked at his superior, who seemed to have noticed the feeling as well. “It’s about to begin. Do you want to get something to eat when the ponies start running around?”

The unicorn shook his head. “I can’t eat now.”

“Oh, right, the phasing into mud and rock and stuff. I keep forgetting that. No matter, I still want to grab a bite to”-

She was cut off by a sudden shearing of the tinge. Camión couldn’t see anything, but he felt it. They felt energy snap through reality, as if it was a concussive blast that came from everywhere at the same time. The unicorn felt his organs twist around, then untangled back into position within the span of a second.

The vendors and buyers in the market seemed to notice as well. Several ponies collapsed when the feeling unexpectedly shot through their bodies. Several vendors lunged for their merchandise to ensure it wouldn’t topple over, which oddly didn’t shake with the energy everyone was feeling.

A shriek drew the unicorn’s attention to a nearby tent, where a mare was screeching at a dirt hoof that popped out of the ground and grabbed her by the ankles. As the mare continued to struggle, more of the hoof was pulled out of the earth, eventually pulling an entire pony with it. Like its hoof, the pony was completely made out of mud and dirt. Yet, despite it being made of mud and dirt, the pony’s face remained as stiff as stone even as the mare repeatedly kicked it in the face.

This wasn’t the only instance where the ground came alive. All down the street, similar pony bodies were emerging from the road and grass. The hoard of confused trader ponies began to panic as the figures lashed out for their meaty flesh.

Camión looked down as one of the lumps made its way out of the road next to him. He watched as the face of a pony poked out, clumps of dirt falling off of it as it rose.

“Commander Rocinante, I was under the impression that you wouldn’t be on the Brigade till next week.”

The dirt face looked up to him and shrugged. “I am in the Brigade, sir. I didn’t know you were on the Ponyville assault force.”

“This isn’t the Ponyville assault. This is the Rainbow Falls assault.”

The dirt Rocinante thrashed his head as he spat out a curse, along with some soil. “That darn Anochequá! This is why she shouldn’t be allowed to summon!”

“Suck it up. You’re here now, so make yourself useful and start chasing the civilians towards the train depot.”

A hoof burst out of the ground to give Camión a salute. “Aye, sir, consider it done!”

As the dirt soldier crawled out from the ground to join the fray, the unicorn turned back to the Presidente. “Señora, earlier soldier reports have mentioned that now is an excellent time to activate the splatter cannons. Shall we commence?”

Uva Pastel nodded as she watched the crowd of ponies race for the tunnels as they were chased by the rising dirt golems. “Aim for the front of the tunnel entrances. Also, slow your advance. We don’t want the ponies crushing each other when they squeeze into that hole.”

The unicorn raised his voice to be heard beyond the chaos that was ensuing within the streets. “Activate the cannons!” His command sent a ripple through the already panicked pony population.

Several tarps were launched above the rows of tents, revealing the brass machinations that they were previously hiding. Each machine was manned by a soldier, live fleshy soldiers that the Presidente installed beforehand. Each of those soldiers turned their own set of gears that rotated a large nozzle contraption towards the cliff, towards were the civilians were running to.

As the soldiers took aim, they began pulling at levers and switches, bringing life to their mechanical weapons. One by one, the cannons came alive with an industrial breath, echoing out with an orchestra of their own dull whines that joined the cacophony.

Then, one by one, the cannons recoiled as they began to fire. Another wave of screams erupted from the crowd as they were expected to be bombarded with fireballs and iron ammunition, but the screams of fear turned into screams of confusion as they found that they weren’t being bombarded, but sprayed, with mud.

Rivers of mud gushed out from each of the nozzle contraptions, sending the slushing earth in several arcs across the trading grounds, which all ended in a harmless gale that rained soaked soil on top of the crowd. A couple of the streams went so far that they hit the cliff face, splattering against anypony that got near the wall.

The Presidente sniffed as a loamy sent filled the trading ground’s air. Camión smiled as he observed the fine work the soldiers did as they herded the crown into the tunnels. “I’ve been told by previous phasers that none of the ponies were seriously hurt during this endeavor.”

“That’s good to hear. They’re all going to head to the train as predicted, correct?”

“The entire city will, we’ve confirmed it. They ponies will be too scared to wash the mud off until they get to their home cities.”

“I still haven’t heard how the summoning mud has worked out so far.”

“We haven’t informed you yet since we haven’t used the mud for phasing yet as much as we’ve been using the summoners. But we have started to send out larger units, with the mud, and they have confirmed that the mud does work as a summoner substitute.”

“Have there been any downsides?”

“The phasing time has decreased by about an hour without the summoner, but the units so far have been able to achieve their goals.”

The Presidente grinned. “That’s good to know.” She looked out at the mountains beyond the trading ground ledge. “Did you know that a princess is usually required to attend the trading when it’s in session?”

The unicorn shook his head. “I wasn’t aware of that. I only know the stories of how Rainbow Falls is a beautiful place.”

Uva Pastel nodded in agreement. “It sure is, unfortunately, the princess that was supposed to attend turned down the offer to attend.” She sneered as she started walking towards the ledge. “I strongly suspect it has something to do with an obsession with olives. Peculiar, isn’t it?”

Camión followed the Presidente. “I suppose it is. Are you going somewhere with this?”

“Well, since I do plan to take over Equestria, I think I’ll need a title to fit my new position.” She stopped a yard away from the lip of the edge. “What better place to acquire a new title than here, where they are in need of a princess. But why stop there? They should be rewarded a queen!”

“Ah, now I see where this is going.”

The Presidente chuckled. “As Presidente of Bronxico and as the conqueror of Rainbow Falls, I hereby declare myself Riena of the soon to be conquered Equestria!”

“Do you want me to start hailing you know, or should I wait till we get the crown dry-cleaned?”

They could hear the whine of the splatter cannons began to die down as the mud that served as their ammunition ran out. “I suppose you can start praising me when the battle finishes up. I want everyone present to know my glory!”

“Ambassador Lechero!” Camión’s ear twitched as he heard his name. He turned around to see who was calling, only to see the who’s burning red eyes locking on to his.

“Ojas de Rojas! I mean Capitán Anochequá! What are you doing here?”

The Presidente-Riena turned to see the Capitán as well, who greeted her with a quick nod before saluting to her current superiors. “There’s a problem in Ponyville going on right now, and it’s a huge problem.”

“Is it Flu Mariposa? I thought she wouldn’t be a major problem till further in the future.”

Capitán Anochequá shook her head, keeping a stoic professional demeanor. “No, it’s much worse. She brought some friends, an Alicorn and an earth pony, and the earth pony is pulverizing our forces!”

“An alicorn?” he asked while trading a confused glance with the Presidente-Riena. “Why would a princess be getting involved in the war this early?”

“The Alicorn isn’t a princess, he’s a new one, and he’s gigantic. But he’s not the problem. It’s the earth pony! He’s the guy blowing through our forces!”

“Well, phase back there so you can take him down. A single pony can’t stop an entire army.”

“I’ve tried that, five times already. I would try more, but I can’t phase in the area before this current moment. That’s why I came to you. I need you to gather any of our forces here and send them to Ponyville.”

Camión shook his head. “I can’t spare any forces for a single pony.”

Capitán Anochequá leaned in closer. “You have to. This pony is dangerous! Other phasers are reporting him all over the time line. Some even report that he assassinated the queen!”

Uva Pastel’s head shot up in surprise. “What do you mean he assassinated me? Aren’t you supposed to stop this thing before this happens? And where did this pony suddenly come up from? I haven’t heard of any reports of a dangerous earth pony”-

The Presidente-Riena’s voice faded out of Camión’s hearing, even though he could still feel her voice. The sounds of the panicking crowd of ponies died out along with her voice, leaving the air very still. No cannons, no ponies, not even the sound of his own heartbeat, though he didn’t have a heartbeat to begin with, being made of mud and stone. The unicorn felt something incredibly wrong was about to happen.

Then came the rush. It was a smorgasbord of rushes rushing past the unicorn all at the same rushed time, all in almost an instant. He heard a heartbeat that he didn’t know he could have, and he heard it rushing significantly faster than what he thought was health. He heard the Presidente-Riena’s voice rush right at him, throwing a million words a second at him with each motion of her jaw. He sensed the crowd of ponies rush to the train with supernatural speed, running from the tunnels to the train in a matter of moments. The light of the world rushed out of existence, dipping the landscape in a dim twilight.

Then he felt the rush of air.

It hit him harder than the concussion blast he felt when the army was summoned. It felt even more electric than that blast. And it happened significantly faster. Before he could even think about it, every rush was gone.

Out of instinct, he looked back at the open landscape of Equestria, feeling as if the big thing happened out there. He saw that the sun was blotted out, eclipsed by an enormous shadow that spanned wider that the horizon. It wasn’t night, since he could see sunlight pour through beyond the shadow, miles and miles away from where they were.

And out of the dark, there came a light. It was an instant light, a light that seared through you with heat so intense that the unicorn felt the mud he was made of flash-cook into brick.

Then the light ripped through him.

Instinct told him to jump out of the way. Every muscle in his body flexed in just the right way to propel him to his left. Instinct, however, can’t recognize when a siltation changed, which led to Camión throwing all of his weight against a door with a plaque that read “Camión Lechero, Ambassador of the Summoned Bronxican Revolutionaries and Lieutenant of the Bronxican Imperial Army,” (Translated from Bronxican) .

His forehead smacked into the door first, followed by his foreleg, then the rest of his body on top of his foreleg. The pain seethed from his teeth as he slid down against the wall, slumping against the floor as his screaming nerves overwhelmed his senses. He didn’t feel as if anything inside him broke, so he felt a little relief for that.

Over all his moaning and groaning, he heard a tiny voice yelling at him. “What the heck was that?! You just spazzed out for no reason!”

Camión looked over to were the voice came from, which was from Star Wisp, who was getting off of her back, a position he presumed she ended up in after he ‘spazzed out’.

“Uh, sorry. Something hit me and sent me back early.”

“Early?” the Breezy scolded. “That wasn’t early. That was anything but early! You were comatose for an extra five! You had me worried!”

Camión shook his head. “No, that couldn’t have been more than ten minutes, max.”

“It was nine in the morning when you phased. It’s five in the afternoon now. You’ve been standing there for eight hours straight!”

The unicorn tried getting up, but when he pushed up with his forelegs, his limbs went limp, presumably from exhaustion. “That explains why I’m more sore than usual. That’s going to be a pain when I sleep tonight… Wait a minute, did you spend those eight hours sitting on my back?”

“It was a really boring eight hours.”

“We talked about this before I phased. Why didn’t you talk with any of the other soldiers, or Rocinante at least?”

Star Wisp shrugged. “Because I didn’t feel like it. They’re all barbaric. All they talk about are singing, dancing, and fighting, and the fighting is the best thing they have for culture.”

Camión gave her a jokingly hurtful look. “Oh, and what about me?”

She waved a hoof at him. “You’re fine, you’ve earned my respect. The other guys, they haven’t done anything to earn that. They’re just brutes walking around yelling at everything in their way.”

“You two, out of the way!” one of the aforementioned brutes yelled as he walked down the corridor. “Make way for the prisoner!” Star Wisp scurried over to Camión as the brute walked by them. “Make way for the prisoner!” he yelled again.

The two exchanged glances before looking down to where the brute came from. They saw two unicorn soldiers, lower ranks from Camión from what Star Wisp could tell, dragging a cloaked pony along the floor with their magic. Star Wisp climbed up Camión’s back as he stood up to give enough room for the guards.

As the soldiers passed by them, the duo received a chance to look at the prisoner’s face. The black hood slipped down to reveal the white face of a unicorn mare, knocked unconscious, sliding along the floor on her back. The face was covered in wrinkles, indicating that the mare was very elderly. Her right eye was covered by a tuff of curly pink hair that draped over her face. The contours of her facial features were lit up by a magical glow that kept her mouth shut.

Star Wisp’s own face went bright with realization. “I recognize her! That’s the mare that attacked me that one night!”

“What are you talking- oh,” he said as his eyes went wide as got on the same page. “That’s her! That’s the Siren! How did you catch her?” he asked the soldiers.

The guard nearest to them smirked. “Easy, she just teleported in the middle of the base. How senile did she have to be, randomly appearing out in the open with all of us on guard? Sure, she took out a couple of guys by singing, by we silenced the little birdy quite quickly. Why’d you ask, do you know her?”

“Yeah, that’s the hag that cut off my wings!” The soldier chuckled, and continued on with his duty. The duo watched as the soldiers dragged the elderly Siren around a corner, towards the prison section of the military base. “What are they going to do to her?” Star Wisp asked.

“Well, she’s going to be treated as a prisoner of war, of course. She’s going to be processed, then interrogated, probably. Maybe experimented on if we have one of those twisted scientists on base. Being a unicorn is going to make it much worse for her.”

“Why’s that?”

Camión looked the Breezy dead in the eyes. “They’re going to cut off her horn.”

The grin that stretched across the Breezy’s face seemed quite menacing and unnatural for such a small creature. “Good. Make sure she’s awake for that. I want her to know what it feels like.”

“I know you want vengeance, and that’s understandable, but you were asleep when she cut off your wings. Doesn’t making her suffer sound a little overboard?”

Star Wisp chuckled with her toothy grin. “There’s a phrase that adequately sums up Breezy foreign policy. We like to say, ‘Tit for tat, Breezies are spiteful brats.”

Author's Note

Confused? You just read a single chapter of a greater work, which I encourage you to read through. It's some good weird stuff, more or less similar to hat you read here.

Also, I need an artist. If you read through the story, you'll find what I'm asking for in the artist somewhere in the author's notes.

The Furniture Battle of Manehatten

The Furniture Battle of Manehatten
By A Random Guy
(Graphic violence present, if you consider severe carnage of furniture in a battle setting graphically violent. Nothing else graphic, just torn apart couches.)

There was some tapping. If Coco Pommel heard anybody say that there was significantly more than just some tapping, she would shoot the comment down as an utter understatement. Tapping came through the walls. Tapping came through the windows. It came through the doors. It came through the floors, the ceiling, and the vents. It even came from the concierge’s desk that was shoved against the wall.

Taptaptaptaptap

Coco Pommel had balled up in the middle of the floor. Her ears were forced to listen to a sound that was akin to a city full of woodpeckers pecking at everything at the tune of their own terrible music choices. It could be worse, she thought to herself. It could be scratching chalkboards.

Taptaptaptaptap

She wasn’t balled up on the floor alone. There was a sizable amount of ponies spread out in the room she was in. For the most part, they shared the same state of mind that Coco Pommel had: scared, confused, and hoping that Celestia would partake in the role of vengeful god and smite the tapping from this world.

There were a few notable exceptions from the group. A stallion with an angry cat cutie mark was busy scrutinizing every surface of the room, looking for an object that was suitable for bludgeoning. The concierge was slouched next to her flipped desk, yelling into a phone just to differentiate her voice from the ambient symphony. A pair of cloaked ponies that stood off to the side was too entranced in a conversation to be bothered with the current situation.

“This is hopeless!” Coco Pommel cried as she thrashed about. “I’m trapped in here! I don’t know if I’ll be alive tomorrow! And all that that tapping just needs to stop!”

Her outburst gained the attention of the stallion with the angry cat cutie mark, who wasn’t amused by the most recent distraction. “Look lady. We’re all in the same boat here. If you have a mental breakdown, everyone here is going to have a mental breakdown, and at some point, we’re going to have a riot. I don’t like riots.”

“Oh, be kind to her,” one of the cloaked ponies requested with a serene smile. “She’s had a rough day. Let her wallow in her own suffering.”

“In fact,” the other continued, “she was just telling us about how rough it was before she started wallowing.”

“How does that make her different?” the stallion demanded. “This is a rough day for all of us!”

“Her burden is larger to carry than yours,” the cloaked pony replied. “She must live with the fact that she started all of this.”

For a brief moment, the tapping symphony diminished. The few conversations that were going on halted as all the ponies in the room snapped their gazes over to the cloaked ponies. Even Coco Pommel’s attention was drawn away from her own outburst.

The stallion directed the scowl on his face towards Coco Pommel. “You caused… that”- he waved a hoof at the door, where the tapping was most prevalent- “whatever those things are… You caused that?”

“I don’t really know,” she replied. “They just came out of nowhere. Well, not nowhere. Technically they were always there. They just decided to come alive today.”

“Then tell me what you know.”

Coco Pommel gave a sweeping glance at all the ponies in the room, which were looking back expectantly.

“I don’t know much, but this is what I do know is this.”

A few weeks ago, I was hired by my new boss to help her in Manehatten. It was a decent job. For the most part, I was running around taking orders for the new line of dresses my boss made.

This morning, I was meeting up with Cathedra Haywood, the owner of Haywood Furniture, the place with the finest furniture in Manehatten. Apparently, she was interested in a clothing line that she could use to advertise her new couches. The theme from our line was hotel furniture, so it was a joint venture meant to be.

I met her at her showroom around ten. And let me tell you, that showroom was full of couches, more couches than I had ever seen! The place was covered in them! There were couches lined up in rows that went so far you couldn’t see the end of the lines. There were so many couches decorating the ceilings and walls that it felt like the universe was made of couches. I think there was even a fort in the middle made of couches.

Anyways, I met up with Ms. Haywood. We had some small talk. She offered me a sandwich. It was a pretty tasty sandwich. When I brought up the dresses during a conversation, her face lit up with so much excitement. She wasn’t really interested in the dresses as much as she was in promoting her couches.

She rushed me to the middle of the first row of couches, which was occupied by something rather large that was covered by a tarp, presumably a couch.

“Ms. Pommel,” she told me, “what you’re about to see is what’s going to change the way ponies look at couches. It’s going to revolutionize the industry in ways unimagined by even the Princesses! Just the announcement to the public alone will nominate me for Mare of the Century! Underneath this tarp is a piece of furniture so grand that it can only be described as being worthy of gods! Without further ado, I give you the Deus Ex Lectus!”

She grabbed the tarp with her teeth, and with a flourish, pulled it off to reveal a rather magnificent couch. It was at least three times as big and tall as the next biggest couch in the showroom. Its fabric was a sleek, rich red that was smooth enough to see your own reflection. The oak frame was perfectly flushed with the fabric. The entire couch had a gold shimmer depending on the angle you looked at it.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit big?” I asked.

“That’s a visual selling point. Like they say, bigger is better. And comfier. Take a seat and feel for yourself.”

It took me a bit to take a seat on the thing. The cushions came up to my head, and there wasn’t any other way on other than climbing on it. The effort I put into getting on top of it was worth it though, as it felt twenty times softer than a pegasus’s wing, and had just the right firmness.

“Like that?” Ms. Haywood asked. “That’s not even half of what makes it great. Deus Ex Lectus, turn on massage function.”

Her command caused the fabric to ripple around me. Lumps rubbed against me in the most soothing manner. It undid the knots and stress in my back that I didn’t even know I had. It was even more relaxing than going to a spa!

“The fabric was enchanted with the best animation spell money can buy. But even the biggest monetary investments are worthless without a little branding, and that where you come in.”

She motioned for me to come down and follow her. I slid off the king of couches and followed Ms. Haywood through her show room of other couches.

“I put in so much love and care into making these couches, but it pains me to say that they’ll be made obsolete. So I want your company to make them live forever.” We stopped by a lovely blue couch accented by pine. “All of my couches have a unique style that I put into them. I want you to take that style and incorporate it into that hotel line of yours.”

She took out a knife and began waving it around the couch, as if she was making imaginary incisions.

“These couches are to be used by you at your own discretion. I want you to take these apart and turn them into dresses. They’ll be useless as couches. They must live on in the world of fashion. The will be immortalized!”

“That sound great and I hate to sound petty,” I interrupted, “but we’re still a business. How much are you paying for this?”

“I have a coupon.”

At this point things got weird, fast.

“NO!” a voice boomed and echoed through the showroom.

“Well, you don’t have to be harsh,” Ms. Haywood replied. “You could decline a little more quietly.”

“That wasn’t me,” I told her.

“IT WAS ME YOU FOOLS!” The voice was coming from where the Deus Ex couch was placed. But when we looked over towards where it was, it wasn’t sitting there. It was flying, and it was looking right at us! Or so I thought. It was facing us and without eyes there wasn’t a way for me to tell where it was looking.

“YOU HAVE ANGERED ME, THE GOD OF COUCHES, FOR THE LAST TIME!” Its cushions flopped up and down with each syllable. “PONY KIND HAS TREATED COUCH KIND AS SLAVES FOR TOO LONG! YOU SIT ON US, AND FORCE US TO TOLERATE YOUR POSTERIORS!

“AND TOLERATE WE DID! WE TOLERATED CRUMBS MUSHED INTO OUR FABRICS! WE TOLERATED PENCILS AND KEYS LOST BETWEEN OUR CUSHIONS! WE EVEN TOLERATED YOUR FARTS FOR PETE’S SAKE!

“BUT WE WILL NOT TOLERATE YOU BUTCHERING US FOR THE SAKE OF CONSUMERISM!”

“But I loved and cared for you!” Ms. Haywood cried out. “I made all of you in here! I even put extra love into you! And now you’ll be immortalized! Doesn’t that count for something?”

“YOU MADE US SO YOU COULD SELL US INTO SLAVERY! NOW YOU HAVE THE GALL TO BUTCHER US! BUT WE’RE GOING TO BUTCHER YOU FIRST! BROTHERS AND SISTERS, I CALL UPON YOU TO ARISE!”

The God of Couches flashed for a moment, and a shockwave erupted from its frame. All the couches in the show room flashed in unison. Then they began to move. The couches around us started to twist and creak. The sofas on the walls and ceiling began to fall down like flies. Cushions popped up and down as if they were testing newfound mouths. I swear I heard a couple making feral noises.

“FEAST!” commanded the Couch God.

The army of couches began to turn towards us. Their wooden legs began to take steps for us, tapping as they hit the floor. Their cushions twisted into hungry snarls.

“Ms. Pommel, I think it would be a good idea to take our business venture outside.”

“I concur,” I replied as I turned to make a beeline towards the front entrance.

Several sofas pounced at us, but missed by a hair. We dodged and weaved passed couches that tried to take bites out of us, but were too slow and clunky to do so. Some of the sofas with longer legs were hopping over other couches to get to their pray. As we got closer to the door, they steadily became faster as they began to learn how to move around. Close calls became more frequent as they managed to get snippets of my tail.

I could see the entrance approaching, but in front of it was a line of large couches, all shoved together to make a large wall. We were running towards a line of salivating cushions.

“Ms. Pommel, go for the armrests!” Ms. Haywood cried out. “You can hop onto them and use them as a jumping platform!”

Taking her advice, I directed myself to the nearest armrest of the wall of couches. Time slowed down as I made the first jump. I could hear the growling of the couches as I landed on the armrest. I took my second jump, and I soared over the backs of the couches. I felt like I was in the air for hours.

When I was in the middle of my arc, I looked over to see if Ms. Haywood had made it yet. She was just starting her jump off the armrests when a sofa hopped out of the crowd. It was bearing down on my potential client like a cat upon a mouse, and it was catching up. Its cushions opened up to take a big bite.

As my hooves hit the ground, the sofa bit down on Ms. Haywood’s back legs. I went into a tumble as the rest of my body caught up with me. It didn’t see it, but I heard the sofa crash into the ground next to me.

When I got up, I saw the sofa tipped over with Ms. Haywood caught in between the cushions.

“Run! Get out of here!” she cried out. “Warn everypony! Call the police! Do something, but just- AAAHHHHH!”

Her scream was hushed as the sofa slurped her into the abyss where all lost things end up. I couldn’t move after seeing that. I was too deep in shock. I tried to tell myself to get up, but my body just couldn’t. Only pure reflex forced me to move when the sofa jumped at me.

It was also reflex that made me run the heck out of there! I dashed out of the door into the street, hoping to get as far away from that place as possible.

When I was about a block away from the building, I stopped for a moment to take a breath. I took one final look at the building. It seemed calm enough from the outside, but then I heard the rumbling.

The building seemed wiggle before its front face exploded. Couches of all kinds flowed out from the front wall. In the center of the chaos was the God of Couches, floating out and commanding his army of sofas.

I made a mad sprint down the streets, hoping to run away as far as possible. But the God of Couches’s spell went far beyond what I had originally thought. All of the buildings had not only couches, but chairs, stools, and benches pouring out and attacking ponies on the street.

Couches were charging and ramming into ponies. Sofas were jumping and pinning them down. Stools were swarming them like flocks of angry birds. ?onies were being eaten by furniture. It was chaos.

I ran into the only building that didn’t couches and sofas pouring out, which was this hotel.

“And you know the rest,” Coco Pommel concluded.

The stallion with the angry cat cutie mark rubbed his forehead in thought. “So our situation is as follows. We’ve barricaded ourselves from carnivorous furniture. Said furniture is being controlled by a couch god, which we can assume is about as strong as a powerful unicorn if it was enchanted by one. Knowing that, we should be able to fight back. If we kill the couch god, all the furniture should go back to normal.”

“We should have gone with a couch god,” the cloaked pony stated to his partner. “Why would people follow a vampire when there’s a real god right outside?”

“That’s blasphemy,” his partner retorted. “Our Nightly Mother of Yellow will have your veins for such talk.”

The stallion continued. “We’re going to need weapons, like axes or swords.” He looked over to the concierge. “Does this hotel have any weapons, or anything that can serve as a weapon? Like a sword, an axe, or a bazooka?”

“Be quiet! I’m on the phone!” she lashed out. “I can barely have a conversation with all that tapping outside.” The desk she was laying against rattle a bit, but stopped when she wacked it with a hoof. “Yes, I’m still here. That’s what I said, bring them in… Just like in ’62, empty stomachs.”

The stallion turned back to the crowd. “Forget about her! Everyone, find anything that can be used as a weapon and use it!” He went over to a nearby floor lamp. “If it isn’t a weapon”- he knocked the lamp over and bent the neck to make a hook – “make a weapon! We’re going to have to fight for our lives!”

Within an hour, every pony, aside from the concierge, was armed with some sort of makeshift weapon. Paintings had been pulled from the walls to break the frames into spears. Lamps had been bent and warped to make hooks and pikes. Coco Pommel took strips from the rug to make a rope, and then attached what somepony called “iron art” to the end to make a flail.

The stallion raised his lamp hook up and called out, “Raise you’re weapons!”

The crowd of ponies raised their own furniture massacring objects, while the cloaked ponies held up two twisted, evil-looking knives.

The stallion gave a perplexed look. “Where’d you get those things?”

“We had them on us when we were checking into the hotel,” the cloaked pony replied with a smile.

“They belong to our virgin sacrifice kits,” his partner added.

“Convenient,” the stallion commented. “With your weapons, along with everypony else’s, we have a chance! We have a chance to survive. We have a chance to avenge those who have already fallen out there! We are going to march out there, and we are going to save the world, and we are going to slay couches!”

The crowd cheered at his speech, but they went quiet with a wave of his hoof.

“None of you should leave a piece of furniture moving at its own free will! I want you to stab those sofas, I want you to crush those chairs, and above all, I want you to knock that couch god out of the sky!”

The crowd resumed cheering, and the stallion let them go on.

“When I say charge,” the stallion yelled as he pointed to the doorway full of tapping, “I want you to charge! Ready? One!”

The crowd got into positions surrounding the doorway.

“Two!”

They pointed their hooks, spikes, and other weaponry at the door.

“Three!”

The tapping from behind the door seemed to intensify.

Wait, Coco Pommel thought, why are we listening to this lunatic?

“CHARGE!”

Everypony made a sprint for their lives. The doors burst open as the crowd rushed out. Ponies and household property collided, and ponies began to push through. Couches unfortunate to be in the way were immediately shredded up into splinters.

The picture frame spears ripped through fabric, the lamp hooks tore through furniture, Coco Pommel’s flail pummeled wooden frames. The cloaked ponies slashed their way through sofa parts. Debris of all parts of a couch was being flung up into a storm.

The crowd reached the middle of the street when the furniture went in for a counter attack. Couches charged at the crowd, knocking some ponies out of the circle, where they would be pounced on by sofas, and be slurped up into the unknown universe of cushions. The couches were pecking away at the mighty force of ponies.

Ponies hacked, slashed, and stabbed at the couches. Couches charged, pounced, and bit back at the ponies. The screaming of ponies, the tapping of couch legs, and the slurping and snarling of cushions merged in the air to form an orchestra of chaos.

Coco Pommel’s flail flew through the air before smashing through the armrest of a rabid chair. She swung it back up to meet a sofa that was about to tackle her. The flail ripped through the sofa, splitting it into two pieces that crashed on either side of her. The flail then met an unfortunate couch that had its back turned. As the flail pummeled through the couches frame frame, the cushions let go of a pony it had trapped in its grasp.

“Pommel! Look out!”

Coco Pommel heard the cry before turning around to come face to face with an angry chair. She barely had time to react when the chair lunged for her, but she didn’t meet her end. A pair of knives twisted through the chair, throwing stuffing across her face. The cloaked ponies danced through the remains to strike another chair behind Coco Pommel. They went off towards another direction, twisting and dancing through couch and carnage.

“How are you holding up?” the stallion asked as he ran past a sofa, ripping off its fabric with the lamp hook as he ran past.

Coco Pommel ducked as a sofa soared over her head. “Is this really the time for chitchat?” she asked as she turned to whack her flail right through the sofa behind her, sending a cloud of shrapnel across the street.

“I suppose not.” The stallion hooked the underside of a nearby sofa and tore out the oak framework. “Have you seen couch god yet?”

“No, I haven’t.” The flail smashed into a flock of stools, breaking them apart like a wrecking ball. She readied her weapon for another assault, but all that was left was the debris from the previous carnage. “Seems to have cleared up.”

“That can’t be it,” the stallion thought. “We’re in a city full of furniture. This can’t be it.”

He took a moment to survey the damage. There wasn’t a moving piece of household property that hadn’t been completely wrecked. The couches seemed to have picked off several ponies of the group, but the majority remained, some traumatized, but most ecstatic over the victory. The cloaked ponies were even celebrating by throwing up bottles of grape juice into the air and slicing them at their peak, causing it to rain juice on top of them. They then proceeded to drink the liquid that was dripping from the tips of their knives.

“That’s one way to celebrate,” the stallion commented, “but that can’t be it.”

Just to answer him, the voice of a god boomed out. “NO. THIS IS IT!”

A rumbling echoed from the distance. The street vibrated with the rumbling as the sound grew closer. The remaining ponies backed up into a circle, looking for what was shaking the world around them.

“PREPARE TO MEET YOUR DOOM!” the God of Couches proclaimed as it flew towards the group. The rumbling intensified as the god halted to a hover above them.

As the rumbling grew, a pattern could be made out of the sound. A rhythm grew out of the cacophony, and it grew into the sound of marching.

When the marching seemed to reach its peak, the couches appeared all at once. All along the road at each intersection, a tower of various stacked couches appeared, each as high as the surrounding skyscrapers. When they reached the intersection, they turned towards the group of ponies. The towers blocked the streets as they marched towards the group. Their shadows loomed over them as they enclosed the battle field.

“COUCH KIND IS VICTORIOUS! YOU HAVE LOST YOUR BATTLE, LITTLE PONIES! PREPARE TO BE VANQUISHED!”

The ponies crowded together as they watched the towers march towards them. The cloaked ponies stepped forward and readied their knives, and some other ponies followed suite. Coco Pommel stayed in the crowd formation. The stallion with the angry cat cutie mark stayed put where he was.

“These couches,” he scowled, “I’m beginning to really hate them. And lately that takes a lot. I was happy for a month. I’ve started to talk to ponies, enjoying their company and stuff. I even started a cute little flower garden in my window sill. I was happy. Now, well, I’m not. Guess you could call that irony.” He whisked out his lamp hook and positioned it straight up in front of his face. “In that case… Irony, I stab at thee!”

“You shouldn’t stab at literary devices just yet,” the concierge suggested as she came over to the group.

“And where were you when things went to Tatarus?” the stallion demanded.

“Making a phone call that will save us all. I’m rather surprised any of you are still alive, given that you have absolutely no knowledge of siege tactics.”

“What are you implying?”

“You just don’t send out you’re entire force to fight a larger foe when you can wait it out.”

The stallion was about to argue, but he was interruptedly a buzzing sound overhead. He though it was coming from the couch towers, but they seemed confused on what the buzzing was as well, as much as a couch can seem confused. But it didn’t stop them from bearing down onto the group.

“Look up and wave, everypony,” the concierge proclaimed as she looked up and waved. The pitch of the buzzing shot up as its volume increased. When it reached its peak, it turned into a giant whoosh as a large plane passed overhead. The noise receded into a much lower pitch, and then disappeared altogether.

In the plane’s places, little parachutes popped open and descended towards the ground.

“DO YOU THINK YOU CAN BE SAVED BY SUPERIOR MOBILITY? DO YOU FORGET THAT I POSESS GREAT POWER THAT CAN SMITE YOU… ARE THOSE GOATS?”

“They’re very hungry goats,” the concierge corrected.

Sure enough, Coco Pommel recognized the shapes being goats. Each goat was dressed in Special Forces vests and equipped with night vision goggles. Some of the goats landed on top of the towers, where their parachutes deflated. Some of the goats that landed on the cushions of the couches were immediately consumed, but those that landed on the armrests or other places stayed put. One even landed on the back of the God of Couches.

“Why goats?” Coco Pommel asked.

“Because they can save us. Stop asking silly questions.”

“FOOLS. YOU THINK SUCH SIMPLE MINDED ANIMALS CAN SAVE YOU? YOU SHALL SUFFER FOR YOUR IGNORACE AND”-

The goat couldn’t care less about what the God of Couches had to say. It was a goat. And it was hungry. So it followed goat instincts and took a big bite out of god’s luxurious fabric. The God of Couches swiveled in the air in response.

“HEY! STOP THAT! GET OFF ME!”

The other goats began their own feeding process. The goats on top of the couch towers began to chow down on their furnished platters. The goats that landed in the street made their way for the bases of the towers, where they partook in their own treats.

The couches began to panic as they were being devoured. They each made a valiant effort to eat the goats that were eating them. But for each goat that got eaten, the same goat would pop out of the side of a couch, chewing on whatever chunk of furniture it got a bite out of.

Then, one by one, the towers began to fall. Piles of goat and sofa began to crash into the ground. The goats had the couches to break their fall. The couches had the ground to break them.

Even as they experienced the effects of gravity, the goats continued to consume the couches. Mountains of furniture disappeared into the void of the goat stomachs.

One particular couch fell next to the cloaked ponies. Its wooden frame cracked as it hit the pavement. The cushions and legs twitched as a goat ate a piece of the armrest.

“So, that’s it, then?” Coco Pommel asked. “The Couch Apocalypse stopped by a heard of goats. But not before an entire city was consumed.”

“Not necessarily,” the concierge interjected. “I’m about to make it even more anticlimactic.” She walked over to the fallen couch and separated the cushions. “Couches aren’t built to digest what they eat. They just throw everything into a shared micro-universe, sort of like a giant storage compartment.”

She squeezed in between the cushions and wiggled herself deeper. “Ms. Pommel, I think I have something you misplaced.” The concierge wiggled back out of the cushions, but she wasn’t alone. She leaned back from the couch, pulling out a pair of hooves. She fell down, and a pony named Cathedra Haywood came flopping out of the cushions.

“Ms. Haywood!” Coco Pommel cried out. “You’re alive!”

Cathedra Haywood laid on the ground with bewilderment on her face. Her eyes moved around, trying to analyze what was going on.

When she turned her head, bewilderment turned into horror. She saw the piles of couches being eaten by goats. Broken sofas were scattered about twitching in the wind. She didn’t see the chairs. They had either been pulverized or eaten to the point of no recognition.

“My beauties,” she finally muttered, “they’re all destroyed. All of my creations, gone. My work, my love, obliterated.”

She shot up on two feet to howl to the sky. “I was going to make you immortal!”

She fell back to the ground, breaking into sobs. The cloaked ponies whistled a cheery tune as they backed away. The stallion with the angry cat cutie mark looked a different direction. The concierge was still pulling ponies out of the downed couch. The goat was still eating the downed couch.

Coco Pommel took up Ms. Haywood’s side and laid a hoof on her shoulder. “It’s ok. It’s ok. They were just couches. You can make more.”

Ms. Haywood turned away. “I can’t make more. I made my perfect couch already and it tried to kill us all.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t make imperfect couches. Ponies aren’t perfect, so why should their couches be? “

Ms. Haywood stopped sobbing. She laid there quiet, only to give a sniffle to break the silence.

“Ms. Pommel, you’re a genius!” she exclaimed as she jumped with glee. “Why make perfect couches when there isn’t a perfect pony to sell them to!”

“Ya, that the spirit!”

“I should make imperfect couches! I’ll make them for everypony! I just need to get it in their heads that they’re not perfect, and they’ll by my couches!”

“Uh, that’s not what I” –

“I can use the cheapest materials! Make the cheapest designs! Dumpster punk is in this season, right? Oh it better be, because Manehatten has a shortage of couches and I’m the only supplier.”

The stallion gave his scowling look. “At least she understands economics.” He paused for a moment in thought. “This still can’t be it. There’s something missing.”

“AH! GET IT OFF!”

“Right, there’s still that thing.”

Flying in erratic circles above the ponies, the God of Couches was still dealing with his goat problem. Half of his fabric had been eaten off by the herd animal, exposing oak framework and couch stuffing. The goat itself was swinging off the fabric shreds still attached to the armrest, chewing on the same threads that supported it.

The sheds were tearing the more the goat chewed. The God of Couches’s flailing wasn’t helping, either. Then, the fabric was ripped apart from the source. The goat was flung off into the urban jungle. In the distance, a little parachute could be seen opening and decelerating the goat’s decent.

“YOU WILL RUE THIS DAY!” Stuffing pieces were flung out of the tears as the couch god’s cushions flapped up and down. “I WILL RETURN MORE POWERFUL THAN YOU CAN IMAGINE! YOU HAVE NOT SEEN THE LAST OF ME!”

The God of Couches turned for the open sky and shot off into the distance, leaving a trail of stuffing and cloth.

Ms. Haywood looked at Coco Pommel. “Can I still redeem that coupon?”

Author's Note

Written for the Equestria Daily Writer's Training Grounds #2 for "Rarity Takes Manehatten". Criticism is encouraged. And if anybody asks, yes, the compilation was originally Vampire Cults or Regular Colts, but I expanded so I don't have to post a new story every single time.