Princess Twilight Sparkle flips a table... and then some.
Rage of the alicorn princess.
Celestia signed on the dotted line, having a rather large package delivered to her chamber. The deliverymare took the clipboard in her mouth and waved goodbye, on schedule and happy to serve the princess.
The princess turned around in her private chambers, facing the wrapped box in the center. Using her magic, she ripped the duct tape and peeked inside, ensuring the contents were completely present and assembled. She would’ve checked earlier, but that would be an insult to the poor, overtaxed deliverymare. Poor pony probably wasn’t being paid enough as it is. Economics were difficult for the ninety-nine percent, after all.
Carefully, she brought out the large object and set it gently on the floor. With a thousand years worth of experience and care born from sympathy, she began to weave her enchantments for her students. Twilight needed this. Twilight needed her.
Princess Twilight Sparkle blinked, the library slightly singed by Spike’s sudden flaming outburst. A few shelves and the occasional tome were smoking, but no severe damage was apparent. She had been writing her twenty-second diplomacy scroll that morning when Spike’s belly bulged to a cartoonish proportion before ejecting a rather large object.
“A table?” Twilight set down her quill and scroll before leaving her own table, passing by a groaning Spike rubbing his aching stomach. She approached the new table, a well-crafted oak specimen with odd decorations. A small slip of paper was rolled and placed on top, which Twilight levitated to her and began to read.
Dear Princess Twilight Sparkle,
As you must know by now, I have sent you a gift through Spike. From the messages your friends have sent, I have gathered that your royal duties are beginning to have a noticeable effect. Do not be alarmed, this is normal. Each and every princess has her ways of dealing with stress, developed through the years, and refined through practice.
The table I have sent you is specially enchanted to be virtually indestructible, a personal favorite of mine. You may do with it as you wish, but try to have fun with it. I’m sure you’ll know what to do.
Love,
Princess Celestia.
PS- Duck!
Twilight was understandably perplexed, going as far as to question, “Duck? What does she mean-”
Gurgle.
Twilight instinctively dove to the floor, narrowly dodging Spike’s second blast of hot air. A burning sensation at the top of her scalp reminded her to stock up on Elka-seltzer.
Twilight bit her lip as she wrote the fifty-fourth letter in response to the Griffin embassies’ complaints from their last meeting, freshly engraved in her memory thank to the incredibly ‘colorful’ language the griffins had employed. The meeting had been cut short when Princess Luna rebutted with her own words, in the Royal Canterlot Voice no less. Not only did Twilight Sparkle, Celestia’s protege, take notes on the new words she learned, but the meeting had been canceled on the account that the griffins now resembled plucked chickens in Fluttershy’s care.
As she dotted her i’s and crossed her t’s, another letter appeared via magic. Sighing, she unraveled it. Sighing again, she crumpled her current letter (already signed and sealed) with her shaking hooves and began anew. Yet another complaint from the griffins, third time that week, forcing her to restart. Again.
Her eye twitched as she glanced at the clock, noticing it was two hours past noon. Nobles, embassies, and various royals of random kingdoms she hardly cared for kept mailing her diplomatic scrolls and complaints, most likely doubting the newly christened princess’s spine. If they couldn’t wrestle a few bits from Celestia, then perhaps her childish student would be easy pickings, or so they thought.
Twilight huffed, her nerves burning with anxiety and stress. Piles of half-written scrolls laid at her hooves, broken quills and crumpled parchment littered the new table she worked at. Four weeks of her duties and she was already near her limit. For somepony used to studying so, it startled her. Politics, she mused, was universally boring. Even for somepony like her. No wonder Princess Celestia wanted her friends at the Gala.
Using Cadence’s breathing exercise, Twilight calmed herself. Everything was going to be just fine.
“Twilight! Twilight!” Spike shouted as he ran down the stairs, holding the library’s ledger.
Twilight looked up. “What is it Spike?”
“I was just looking over our records when I noticed something!” Spike panted, his cheeks flushed. He was about to hit a trigger, but it was his duty as Twilight’s number one assistant to break the news. “Rainbow Dash forgot to turn in her book!”
Twilight froze. The latest Daring Do novel, one she had loaned to Rainbow Dash before reading out of friendship and kindness, was now forgotten in Rainbow Dash’s home. She had looked forward to it, planning on reading it after finishing up her piles and piles of work. Dealing with annoying nobles, writing half-assed apology letters for Princess Luna’s lack of tact, and avoiding misguided shakedowns of politicians left the novel series her only solace after a long day’s work.
Princess Twilight Sparkle was not pleased.
Princess Twilight Sparkle was quite pissed.
“AGAIN?!” Twilight screamed as she brought her hooves underneath the table and threw it with her augmented strength. The table, heavy despite its sleek appearance, collapsed under its own weight and scattered the papers. Its own legs snapped from the sudden kinetics, leaving Twilight dumbfounded and slight exhilarated.
“I-I thought it was indestructible?” Twilight mused as she breathed, somewhat relaxed by the outrageous exertion of energy. Spike, in a bout of wisdom, had made a quiet exit and was on his way to Rarity’s.
Her answer came in the form of a glowing, ethereal energy as the wooden fragments began to float and reassemble itself, restoring the table to its previous state. To complete the image of a fresh, new table, it magically flipped itself over. It was like nothing had happened.
“Oh, so that’s what it’s for,” Twilight quipped, cocking her head. “Oh, this is going to be fun.” She tenderly poked the table with a hoof, feeling for any lingering enchantments she had missed. Deciding it was safe, she rushed forward and flipped it again.
She giggled as her muscles relaxed with the exercise. She waited for the table to reassemble itself, and flipped it again. Giggling, she decided to play with it further and stomped on the table. Her augmented alicorn strength shattered it, creating a fissure straight through. She watched as the magic stitched it back together.
Once the table set itself down, she didn’t waste a heartbeat. Using her magic this time, she levitated the table and slammed it down, shattering the legs and tabletop. She bobbed her head, repeatedly breaking the table over and over before flipping it over for the coup de grace. With a flick of her horn, she tossed it to the ground, shattering it.
“Wow, this IS fun!” She made a mental note to thank Celestia later, she had assignments to ignore and a table to destroy. A mischievous smile began to form as she eyed the stairs.
Spike strolled home, finding himself just outside the library. “Hopefully Twilight’s calm now-”
Crash!
Spike dove out of the way as Twilight threw the table out the window, which promptly fell to gravity’s rule. Spike brushed himself off as Twilight popped into existence nearby to examine the table, now reconstructed.
“Twilight, what are you-”
“No time to talk, Spike!” Twilight cackled as she turned around and bucked the table, flipping it several feet behind her. Spike’s jaw dropped as he watched the gifted alicorn’s strength shatter it completely just before it magically reconstructed itself. Twilight blinked out of existence once more, leaving Spike dumbfounded.
“Geronimo!”
Spike, just having stood up, quickly dived again as his caretaker, now donning a wrestling mask weaved with her cutie mark, pile-drived the table and shattering it. Spike fell on his bottom as he watched Twilight pull with her legs, shred with her teeth, and stomp on the continually reconstructing table. A few ponies walked by, but hastily made their exit to leave the princess to make her own scene. The moon was not a great vacation spot this time of year. Or ever.
Twilight panted as she threw off the mask and wiped her sweaty brow. Spike made to reach for her, but Twilight’s horn flashed and she popped out of existence.
Spike was blown back by the shaking earth as a steamroller came out of nowhere, driving over the table. Twilight looked out the window as she popped the vehicle into reverse, ensuring a thorough job was done.
Deciding that his friend was crazy, Spike turned away and sought help. Twilight needed it.
“I don’t get it, it’s just a table,” Rainbow Dash complained as the pair observed the empty area (sans the table, of course). Spike scratched a spine, wondering where in Equestria Twilight had gone. An annoying sound whistled in his ear, disembodied.
“Do you hear that?” he commented, rubbing his ear. It was as if a mosquito had found itself in his skull and was trying to make his life miserable. He pounded his head to no avail.
Rainbow Dash frowned and looked up, her ears perking to catch something. “Yeah… I think I hear it too. What is that?”
Spike shrugged, the noise intensifying. “If I didn’t know any better, it sounds like a-” He froze, his muscles locked as if his blood had frozen.
“Sounds like what?”
“Sounds like a… TRAIN!”
HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNKKK!!!
A train blew past, running over the table at speeds fast enough to blow even Rainbow Dash back. Spike grabbed the edge of the house, resisting the whistling storm winds that threatened to send him sailing. Many sections of the train blew past, revealing it to be the passenger train normally providing passage to the Crystal Empire.
It felt as if a heartbeat, or an eternity had passed before the train left sight and Ponyville. Spike gently set his wobbling legs back on the ground next to Rainbow Dash. The two hesitantly walked back to the open area, watching the table (now sawdust) reassemble itself.
Twilight, as if on cue, teleported right next to the table and stomped her hooves in delight, giggling.
Rainbow Dash exchanged a look with Spike before calling out, “Twilight, are you okay..?”
“Of course I’m okay!” Twilight cackled as she leaped onto her hindlegs, pulling out a Glock 30. Rainbow Dash and Spike immediately jumped back, raising their arms in surrender.
“Come on Twilight, put down the...thingy,” Rainbow coaxed, wondering how in the world Twilight had got her hooves on such a contraption (or even afford it, for that matter). Spike bit his claws, shredding them down to the nub.
“HAHAHA!!” Twilight laughed as she fired shot after shot into the table, reducing it to what resembled swiss cheese. As soon as the gun began to click click instead of bang bang, Twilight tossed it aside. Before her friends could intervene, Twilight pulled out an old military radio. “Yes, calling in an airstrike.”
Twilight watched, an evil smile on her face, as Ponyville was engulfed in flames to destroy the damned table.
Twilight blinked, her quill about to stab the parchment with the last period and finish the spell. Her five friends, cured of their magical predicament, watched her with curious eyes alongside Spike. Twilight glanced at the parchment, recognizing Starswirl’s unfinished spell.
“...” Her legs quivered as her horn sputtered, her nerves firing up and threatening to send her in a nervous fit. With a heavy sigh, she threw the book aside and smiled at her friends.
“Oh well, the spell didn’t work! Everypony go home!”
“But Twilight-”
“Not another word, Spike. Not another word.”
As her friends left, somewhat disappointed but happy that their proper destinies had been restored, Twilight couldn't help but ponder her vision. "Maybe... maybe I should get a new table."
