A Little Fixer-Upper

by JMac

Rating: everyone
Tags: Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Comedy, Cutie Mark Crusaders, Dinky Hooves, Twist, Slice of Life
Length: 4783

To prepare a friend to face her greatest challenge, the Cutie Mark Crusaders put her through a training montage stew that might just kill her.

The Cutie Mark Crusaders' friend Quiz must face her greatest fear. The CMC do what they can to help her, with predictable results.

This story takes place shortly after the end of Quizzical.

Published 2014-01-29 15:00:03 UTC
Last updated 2014-01-29 15:00:03 UTC

Just Do It

A Little Fixer-Upper

“I had one job,” moaned Quizzical Greystone.

“It’s okay, Quiz,” said Apple Bloom. “Miss Cheerilee just wants to talk to you about it.”

“Nopony’s mad at you,” added Sweetie Belle. “Nopony has any reason to be mad at you.”

“Even if she is a little mad, she won’t yell at you or anything,” said Scootaloo. “You know Cheerilee. She doesn’t even yell at us!”

“I had one job,” Quiz repeated. “Just deliver a simple message. I was to let the class know that Miss Cheerilee had been called away, and have everypony read from the history text until she returned. One simple job.”

When Quiz arrived in Ponyville she had no friends and none of the skills necessary for making friends. She suffered from such horrible social anxiety that it seemed unlikely that this would ever change. But this was Ponyville, and any pony can make friends in Ponyville, even Quizzical Greystone.

On her first morning in town Quiz had met the Cutie Mark Crusaders. The rest was fate.

“You did do your job, you know, Quiz,” said Scootaloo. “You just did a little bit more.”

If Quiz had really expected to just deliver her message and sit down then she had failed to consider how much young ponies hate in-class reading assignments. In-class reading is worse than homework, and the students would do anything to get out of it. Quiz was bombarded with questions and, with no way to run and nowhere to hide, Quiz had done her best to answer all of them. It swiftly snowballed out of control, and before anypony notice what was happening two hours had passed.

“I would hardly call it ‘just a little bit,’ Scootaloo,” groused Quiz. “I hijacked Miss Cheerilee’s entire history lesson. I taught her class, and I had no right to do that. Of course Miss Cheerilee is upset.”

“She just said she wants to talk about it,” said Sweetie Belle. “She’s not upset.”

Just then Snips and Snails tumbled out of the classroom, stumbling over each other in their hurry to get to freedom.

“Oh, hay, Quiz. You have to follow us?” asked Snips. “Bummer. I think we got her a little upset."

“Yeah, it’s amazing how much trouble you can get into with a Bunsen burner,” said Snails. “Sorry about that. Good luck, Quiz.”

“Quizzical, could you please come in now?” called Cheerilee.

Trembling, Quiz walked into the classroom. “Quiz, when you enrolled I told you I would have trouble keeping as advanced a student as yourself engaged…”

That was all the Cutie Mark Crusaders heard before the door closed.

Quiz soon emerged, shaking even more than when she entered. She looked as if she had just heard her death sentence.

“Quiz! What is it? What did she say?”

Quiz gulped hard, as if she were trying to swallow a tennis ball. “Miss Cheerilee would like me to do more student teaching. I am to be tested before the Board of Education for a special teaching certificate next Monday.”

They guided Quiz, stumbling and barely able to walk, to Bon Bon’s Sweet Shop to cheer her up with some candy. This was more a matter of projection than of therapy, as all the other fillies had a sweet tooth but Quiz really did not. Quiz did feel a bit better just knowing that her friends were trying. ‘Better’ is, however, a long way from ‘good.’

The shop was empty except for Twist, who was tending the counter at the same time as reading a book. “Hi, guyths. What’ll it be? Chocolate? Hard candy … Quiz? Whaths the matter?! You look haunted!”

“She’s facing her greatest nightmare,” answered Scootaloo. “The only thing she’s really afraid of.”

“The undivided attention of more than ten ponies,” finished Apple Bloom.

“Ten! Ten ponies staring at me!” A shudder rocked Quiz.

“Maybe you should have said five ponies,” said Sweetie Belle. “Five ponies is okay, isn’t it, Quiz?”

“Any fewer and we’ll need to have Twist hide behind the counter!” grumbled Scootaloo.

“I believe I can make myself comfortable with you all, my friends,” said Quiz. “Though it would be best if you mainly speak among yourselves.”

“Quiz, if this upsets you so much why didn’t you just tell Cheerilee ‘No’?” said Sweetie Belle. “I hate to see you like this.”

“I fear I have no choice, even though I am doomed to fail,” moaned Quiz. “If I wish to continue my research... if I am to stay with all my new friends... I must learn to teach as I have been asked. Otherwise, I will be... accelerated.”

“That wouldn’t be so bad. The high school’s close to our school, we could still walk together in the morning…”

“I do not believe I will advanced only to high school, Sweetie Belle.” Quiz began to tremble again. “I will be sent to... magic college.”

“Don’t be silly, Quiz,” stated Scootaloo. “Ponyville doesn’t have a college.”

Quiz’s eyes had glazed over, and she continued to whisper, as if in a trance. “I will be the smallest unicorn there... everypony will laugh... I can feel the room closing in on me…”

“Scoot, I think she means she’ll be called back to Canterlot,” said Apple Bloom.

“No!” cried Sweetie Belle. “You can’t leave. You just got here. We just can’t let that happen!”

“Wait, ith thith about Quiz teaching?” asked Twist. “But everypony liked your lecture. And we all did pretty good on the test the next day.”

“Cheerilee liked it too much,” said Scootaloo. “Quiz has to start doing it regularly.”

"Miss Cheerilee feels that, given my background, I cannot continue as if I were an ordinary student," said Quiz.

"She has a point," said Apple Bloom. "Quiz, you may be our age, but back in Canterlot you were sittin' in on lectures at the University. Grad school lectures!"

"I only audited two of those," said Quiz. "At any rate, it is vital that I remain in class. I am to assist Miss Twilight in her research as well as doing my own. Middle school is an important part of a foal's social life, I will surely miss much that is important to friendship research if I simply skip this experience. Sadly, Miss Cheerilee feels the only way I can continue would be as her... student teacher."

“We’d all be fine with that,” said Twist.

“Thank you, but you are being kind," said Quiz. "I was told that my teaching style is unbearably dull…”

“And who told you that?” demanded Scootaloo.

“Um... Diamond Tiara.”

Quiz’s friends all responded with a double face-hoof.

“You really need to learn not to lithten to Diamond Tiara, Quiz,” said Twist. “But if you want help with public thspeaking I jutht read a neat trick in my book. Try imagining everypony in your audience ith wearing your underwear.”

“What?!” Quiz blushed much more brightly than any of the fillies imagined a little grey pony possibly could. “Strangers going into my drawers... taking my most personal things... passing them out and putting them on... I can imagine it! I cannot stop imagining it!”

“Oh, good one, Twist!” Scootaloo glared at her. “You broke Quiz!”

“That wathn’t thuppothed to happen! It’ths meant to make you see the audience as ridiculous tho they aren’t intimidating.”

“Well, that’s not where Quiz went with it,” said Apple Bloom. “Sweetie Belle, try to talk her down.”

Sweetie Belle affected her most soothing tone and whispered in Quiz’s ear, “It’s all right now. We’re all right here. Just look. None us are wearing your unmentionables.”

“I have seen it in my mind’s eye...what has been seen cannot be unseen…”

Sweetie Belle continued trying to calm Quiz down. “Imagine something that makes you happy. Can you picture yourself in the library? Now, imagine you have a stack of books that need to be reshelved. And please remember to breath, Quiz.”

Apple Bloom leaned over the counter to read the title of Twist’s book. “‘I’m OK, And So Can You!’? What is this, Twist?”

“It’th a self help guide. Thith one ith about building confidence.”

“Self help guides?” mused Scootaloo. “Are there a lot of books like this?”

“Oh, yes,” said Quiz. Thinking about books had a miraculous calming effect on her. “Self Improvement is one of the largest sections of the library. There are three entire shelves dedicated to the subject.”

The Cutie Mark Crusaders exchanged a look.

“Are you…?”

“...thinking what…?”

“...I’m thinking?”

“Cutie Mark Crusaders, Self Help Counselors! Yay!!!”

“Oh, dear,” muttered Quiz.

Twist and the Crusaders only needed an hour to dismantle the library’s Self Improvement section. Mostly, they took down books, flipped through them, and discarded them. They armed themselves with quills and clipboards, mainly for the look of it, though they did take some actual notes. Quiz watched them with interest, and busied herself tidying up the wobbly piles they made, and closing books to protect their spines.

Eventually, they sent Twist out to find Dinky Doo, and when they came back the Crusaders sat her down in front of Quiz.

“We want to start with a confidence building exercise,” said Apple Bloom. “Quiz, pick your most difficult, complicated subject. If you can teach it to Dinky it’ll show that you can teach anypony anything.”

“Hay!” protested Dinky. “Why’d you pick me? I’m not a difficult student!”

“You’re the youngest in our class.”

“I skipped two grades!”

“I have been asked to present an introductory grammar lesson for my certification test,” said Quiz.

“My marks are better than Scootaloo’s!”

“Just pay attention to Quiz, Dinky. Quiz, start with the hard subject first, we have all weekend to practice easy grammar.”

“Actually, I think I have higher marks than all of you!”

“Dinky, just sit there and let Quiz lecture, alright? Go on, Quiz. Hit her with the hardest subject you can imagine.”

“Well, I suppose that would be theoretical magic. Specifically, the sections on particle theory, which are only taught at the graduate level.”

“Oooh, that sounds interesting,” cried Dinky.

“Good. Glad that’s settled,” said Apple Bloom. “While you two get to that, we’ll keep readin’ and work out our next step.”

“Very well,” said Quiz. “To begin, you should know that their are eight models for the behavior of magic fields. Under various conditions all eight have been shown to be correct, and also to be wrong…”

“...so the fundamental particles of magic might all be different?”

“Yes, Dinky. If that could be proven true that would explain many things. Alas, it would also make a confusing mess of many other things. That tends to happen a lot in this sort of research.”

“Fascinating.” Dinky looked around the room. “Um...should we wake the others up?”

While they had started out energetically diving into their research, by the halfway mark of Quiz’s lecture all the other fillies had drifted off to sleep. They lay on the library floor, heads on stacks of books, blissfully drooling on their clipboards.

“They will have new tasks they have planned for me,” muttered Quiz. “But I suppose we should wake them anyway.”

“Please, explain again why we are here and what we are doing,” said Quiz.

The fillies were in front of the school, taking turns trying to hit the top of the flagpole with a bow and arrow. The school yard was rapidly filling with fallen arrows.

“All the books agree on this,” said Scootaloo. “When you begin training you should have what looks like an impossible goal. When you figure out how to achieve your goal you’ve completed your training.”

“The goal of giving my certification lecture is not sufficient?”

“The arrow is supposed to be a symbol, Quiz,” said Sweetie Belle. “If we could... just hit... the target... Owwww!” She’d managed to swat herself on the nose with the bowstring.

“I believe I can help with this,” said Quiz. She magically lifted an arrow and stuck it at the top of the pole.

“Well,that just took all the drama out of the moment.” Scootaloo pouted.

“Ah think that kinda defeats the purpose of this,” said Apple Bloom. “Remember, Quiz, you can’t use magic to get the arrow back.”

“Of course,” said Quiz. “Mind you, that will make the task impossible, but that is what you wanted.”

“Let’s just move on to the next thing,” grumbled Sweetie Belle, rubbing her sore nose.

As they left the school yard, Apple Bloom whispered to Scootaloo. “So, how is she going to get that arrow down?”

“I have no idea. I didn’t read that part.”

The fillies gathered next to one of Ponyville’s mills. They could hardly hear each other over the splashing of the water wheel. Twist was loading marbles into Quiz’s mouth.

“What’re we doing, again now?” shouted Apple Bloom.

“Quiz needs to enunthiat clearly with her mouth full,” Twist shouted back. “Loudly enough to underthstand her.”

“Did your speech therapist come up with this?” yelled Scootaloo.

Twist shot her a puzzled look. “What thspeech therapitht? I don’t go to a thspeech therapitht. Anyway, Quiz say ‘in Hertford, Hereford, and Hampshire hurricanes hardly ever happen.’”

Quiz gasped something unintelligible.

“Really, why are we doing this to Quiz, now?”

“Thith workths, Apple Bloom! The old-timey playwrite Haaschylus came up with it. He wanted to become the greatest orator in the world.”

“And did he become the greatest orator in the world?”

“Well, he would have. Exthept an eagle dropped a turtle on his head.”

“Maybe you should have left that part of the story out,” yelled Scootaloo.

Twist tried to ignore her. “Try ‘the rain in Spain stays mainly on the plain.’”

“What’s a Spain?” asked Sweetie Belle, shouting over whatever Quiz managed to say.

“Who careths? Ith’s jutht in the book because it rhymes!”

“Maybe we should have Quiz talk about grammar?” suggested Dinky. “You know, like the lesson Quiz is supposed to be practicing?”

Quiz nodded enthusiastically. “Ah coud beg’n wit dee par’s of peach.”

“Louder, Quiz!” screamed Twist. “And clearer! Give it everything you got!”

“Nouns!” Quiz shouted back. She was struggling to overcome her aversion to raising her voice, and the strain showed. But Quiz tried. “Nouns are things, and they are the objects of our sentences…”

Quiz actually did quite well, and she got as far as adverbs before she suddenly stopped. She began to wave her forelegs around, then pointed to her mouth and her throat.

“Oh, Gosh!” cried Apple Bloom, as they all rushed to Quiz’s side. “Spit ‘em out, spit ‘em all out right now!”

Quiz did as she was told, then stood gasping for air.

“Wait, that’ths only half the marbles!”

“I believe I swallowed the rest,” said Quiz. “Please do not ask for them back.”

“I think maybe we should try something else,” said Sweetie Belle.

“Good idea!” exclaimed Scootaloo, looking up. “Hay, did anyone else think they just heard an eagle?”

They all returned to the library, and Scootaloo went right to the record player and started a tune.

“Is the music necessary?” asked Quiz.

“Oh, yeah, all the books say it’s essential!” exclaimed Scootaloo. “It makes everything go faster.”

“What is this ‘eye of the tiger’ they are singing about?”

“It’s about being hungry for something, and wanting it badly enough to do anything to get it. You need to have the eye of the tiger, Quiz.”

“Really? That does not seem likely to happen.”

“Just feel the beat, Quiz,” said Sweetie Belle, handing her something. “And balance this on your head.”

“A tack hammer?”

“‘If you can balance a tack hammer you will have a balanced attack,’” recited Sweetie Belle.

“I see,” said Quiz. “Well, no. No I do not. Not at all. I have no plans to attack my audience.”

“It’s a metaphor. You're supposed take command of your audience, and completely dominate their attention.”

“Why are all these metaphors so very aggressive?”

“It’s empowering, Quiz.”

“It is?” Quiz gave her a blank stare. “I seem to have missed that.”

“Just keep the hammer balanced,” said Sweetie Belle. “Now, come at me!”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Come at me!” repeated Sweetie Belle. “I don’t like complete sentences! Are you going to let me get away with that? Come at me!”

“This is ridiculous,” declared Quiz, hobbling after Sweetie Belle as best she could with the hammer on her head. “All sentences require an object and a predicate. Without a noun and a verb you do not express anything.”

“Come and make me use verbs! I like short sentences with unmodified nouns!”

“But that is only half a thought. Your object must do something. Stop running away, Sweetie Belle!” This went on for some time, with Sweetie Belle dancing just out of Quiz’s reach, while Quiz did her best to pursue her. All the while Quiz continued to explain the virtues of proper sentence structure.

It went on until Quiz lost control of the hammer and it fell on her hoof.

“I wish to take a break, please,” said Quiz, sitting on the floor and massaging her hoof.

“Yeah, you rest. I need to read what comes next.” Sweetie Belle consulted a book. “Huh? This doesn’t make any sense!”

“Perhaps it is rude of me, but I cannot express surprise,” said Quiz.

“It says I should make you stand with watermelons on your hooves. Maybe I’m reading this wrong…”

“Sweetie Belle, that is not a self help manual. That is one of Spike’s graphic novels.”

“It is? Oh. I thought the illustrations were kinda big…”

“Seriously, Sweetie Belle?” groused Scootaloo. “We’ve been slaving away doing research and you’ve been reading comic books?”

“It seemed like a good idea,” mumbled Sweetie Belle. “Why don’t you try something now, Scoots?”

“On it!” Scootaloo placed a small book on Quiz’s head. “This should be easier than that hammer. Quiz, show me you can walk around the room with poise.”

Quiz had no difficulty completing a lap of the library’s front room, so Scootaloo added a book.

“This would be more stable if the smallest book was on the top,” Quiz pointed out.

“I know,” said Scootaloo, adding a third, even larger book. “Walk around again. And this time explain the difference between a noun, a proper noun, and a pronoun.”

“Oh, a proper noun is a name or title, and it requires a capital... Oww! You threw an apple at me!”

“Right. Try to dodge the next one.”

“But…”

“It could be worse, Quiz. The book suggested throwing pipe wrenches at you. Even I thought that was a little too much.”

“We only have one pipe wrench, anyway,” added Apple Bloom. “But we have plenty of apples!”

“Right! So, Quiz, you were about to explain about proper nouns?”

“Yes, um, yes, well, all the types of nouns can be the object of a sentence... Owww!”

“I said ‘dodge,’ Quiz!”

“Oh, dear.”

“I much prefer this.” Quiz dipped her brush in the can of whitewash and stroked the picket fence. “This task is relaxing.”

“Remember to sweep the brush up and down,” said Apple Bloom. “And breath, in through your mouth, out through your nose.”

“And explain what gerunds are,” added Dinky.

“Um, yes, of course. Gerunds are nouns transformed into verbs by adding the ‘i-n-g’ suffix.” Quiz paused to slowly exhale. She dipped her brush again before continuing. “This can be abused, as some nouns make the transition to verb poorly, and it is better to use an existing action word…”

As the others watched Quiz paint and listened to her lecture, Scootaloo took Apple Bloom aside.

“This is suspiciously like getting Quiz to do your chores.”

Apple Bloom shrugged. “Look at her. This is the happiest she’s been all day. Ah wish ah had a longer fence for her. What should we do next?”

Scootaloo consulted the book. “Let’s see...you don’t have a deck to sand...oh, Quiz could wax your wagon.”

Apple Bloom read over Scootaloo’s shoulder. “Maybe, tomorrow. It’s gettin’ late. Oh, here we go.” She pointed to a paragraph. “This one. We absolutely have to do this.”

Quiz stood in the Sweet Apple Acres chicken pen, alone with one huge red hen. The bird regarded Quiz with what appeared to be a combination of contempt and hatred.

“Quiz, this is Gertrude,” Apple Bloom called from the other side of the pen’s fence. “She’s at the top of the pecking order here, she’s pretty much used to gettin’ her way, and she isn’t fond of strangers.”

“Um, hello, Gertrude?” said Quiz, tentatively.

“Buck, buck,” said Gertrude. Her tone was not encouraging.

“You have two tasks,” continued Apple Bloom. “First, you must explain what is wrong with double negatives.”

“Secondly,” finished Scootaloo. “You have to catch Gertrude.”

“I... oh, bother.” Earlier in the day Quiz might have demanded an explanation, but she had long since given up on that. She spoke soothingly, as she slowly crept closer to the chicken. “While double negatives are often used in colloquial speech, this is incorrect, and should never be done in print... Ugh!” Quiz lunged for Gertrude, and did a face plant when she missed badly.

The other fillies watched from the fence, and cringed. “How long are we going to let this go on?” whined Sweetie Belle.

“Ten minutes at the most,” answered Apple Bloom.

“The second negative negates the first... come here you... and reverses the literal meaning of what you are saying... Eeep! She pecked me!”

“Better make it five minutes,” said Dinky.

It was a long weekend for Quiz.

She balanced stacks of books on her head. She balanced on stacks of books. She did both at the same time. She dodged many things, and failed to dodge many more (including, just once, a pipe wrench). She waxed one of the Apple family’s wagons, and applied a fresh coat of paint to one side of their house. She chased Gertrude four more times, but never caught the chicken.

Quiz heard a lot of supposedly inspirational music.

But even the longest weekend comes to an end, usually leaving one wondering where the time went. As the sun set Sunday evening the fillies had just one thing left to do.

“I wish we could make you see how proud we are of you, Quiz,” said Sweetie Belle. “No matter what happens tomorrow, you can’t disappoint us. It’s not possible.”

“You’re ready,” said Apple Bloom. “You must have given your lesson, oh, at least a thousand times this weekend. And you did it under every possible condition.”

“Not quite every condition,” corrected Quiz. “I have yet to do it in a classroom in front of an audience.”

“Oh, right, there’s that,” stammered Scootaloo. “So we got you something.”

Twist stepped forward and hung a gold chain around Quiz’s neck. On it was a little golden apple.

“It’s called ‘The Teacher’s Apple,’” said Sweetie Belle. “It’s a magic artifact.”

“It protects and guides teachers,” said Twist. “Nopony know’s how old it iths, but it has belonged to thome of the greatest educators in Equestria’s history.”

“They say Princess Celestia gave it to Starswirl the Bearded when he took on Clover the Clever as a student.” Scootaloo tried to hide the note card she read this from.

“My cousin Shiny Apple took it with her when she went way out west to start a school,” said Apple Bloom. “Now she’s the head of their Board of Education.”

“Now it’s your’s, Quiz,” said Sweetie Belle. “Make sure you wear it tomorrow.”

“Thank you, all of you. I do not know what to say…” The moment called for hugs all around, and a few tears as well, and not even Quiz tried to fight it.

Then it was time for everypony to go home. Dinky was the last out the door, and Quiz stopped her, and whispered, “Should I ever tell them I have also read the bedtime story they stole that idea from?”

“That depends,” answered Dinky. “On whether you want to disappoint them or not.”

“Not for anything in the world!” Quiz held up the little golden apple to admire it. “I am just grateful that this is not a ‘magic feather’ and I am not expected to fly.”

A moment later Quiz looked out her front window and watched her friends walk home.

“They believe in me,” she told herself. “Who am I to argue?”

The next morning, Apple Bloom looked out her bedroom window as she got ready for school. She saw Quiz, sitting in the chicken pen. Quiz held Gertrude with one foreleg, and gently stroked the hen’s head with the other.

“Good morning, Apple Bloom,” called Quiz. “Gertrude and I have reached an agreement of sorts. I will allow that a double negative may add color to your speech every now and then, and I believe she agrees that such use must be rare and not abused. Are you ready for school?”

At school, Quiz’s friends surrounded her, and did their best to keep her spirits up. Despite this Quiz paced. “I must still perform before a crowd, and crowds frighten me. I am terrified.” She didn’t sound terrified. She really just sounded a little nervous.

When the morning bell rang Quiz did not immediately get in line to enter the school. “I have one last thing to do,” she stated.

Then Quiz went to the flag pole, kicked it as hard as she could, and casually held out one leg. The arrow fell into her waiting hoof.

“Now I am ready. Shall we go in?”

“Oh, yeah, that thing,” muttered Scootaloo. “I forgot all about that.”

Quiz took her place in front of the blackboard, facing the class. She looked at all her friends, who were smiling and giving her the hooves up sign. Quiz tried not to look at Miss Pince Nez, the rather frightening mare from the Board of Education. She adjusted her glasses, squared her shoulders, inhaled deeply through her mouth, and let it out slowly through her nose.

“They believe in me,” Quiz told herself again. “Who am I to argue?”

It’s a shame the only pony who could hear her whisper this was Diamond Tiara.

A piece of chalk glowed, rose to the top of the blackboard, and wrote the word ‘Nouns.’

“Hello, Everypony,” Quiz began. “Today we will review the parts of speech, and how we use them to build sentences. We will begin with the noun…”

Quiz carried on until the lesson was completed. She never hesitated and she never faltered. Before she was finished even Miss Pince Nez had stopped glaring at her over the tops of her glasses, and was smiling.

When Quiz set the chalk back in the tray to signify that she was done the whole class rose and applauded.

There was a short test to show that the class had actually learn something from Quiz. This was just a formality. Even if Quiz hadn’t done well the grades would be skewed in her favor - five fillies had been reviewing the material all weekend, after all. When everything was counted up Miss Pince Nez commandeered Cheerilee’s desk, then call Quiz forward.

“I must say, Miss Greystone, it is extraordinary to even consider a filly your age for student teaching,” said Miss Pince Nez. “However, you come with extraordinary recommendations.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.”

“I cannot express strongly enough the reservations I had at the very idea. I also think your choice to use an arrow as a pointer is an interesting decision, and I do not entirely approve. Never the less,” Miss Pince Nez signed something with a flourish, and presented it to Quiz. “Here you are, Dear. This is a special, limited certificate. You may now teach, with supervision, here at Ponyville Elementary.”

The whole class cheered (except Diamond Tiara). Nopony complained when the Cutie Mark Crusaders rose and did a flying, three way high-hoof. “Cutie Mark Crusaders, Personal Improvement Specialists - Yay!”

After school, the six fillies went to Sugar Cube Corner to celebrate over milkshakes - five strawberry and one vanilla. Everypony was laughing and carrying on. Even Quiz smiled faintly to herself.

“You did it, Quiz! You did it!” cried Sweetie Belle. “Um...not that I’m surprised or anything.”

“You are totally awesome!” exclaimed Scootaloo. “And I don’t say that about just anypony.”

“No, you do not. Thank you, Scootaloo. Again, thank you all,” said Quiz. Then she took off her necklace and set it on the table. “Now we must find a young teacher and give this to her. It appears I no longer need it.”

Author's Note

This story takes place shortly after "Quizzical" and before "Thweet Geniuth."