Choose Your Own Adventure: Maud's Educationby Palm PaletteChapters(0) Orientation – Start Here(2)(3)(4)(5)(6)(7)(8)(9)(11)(12)(13)(15)(18)(19)(20)(21)(22)(23)(24)(25)(27)(28)(10)(1)(14)(16)(17)(26)(0) Orientation – Start HereMaud Pie stepped off the train at the station by Hoovard Unihorseity. The weather this time of year was sunny enough for Cambridle, Horseachusetts. It lacked the pleasant grays and soothing browns of the rock farm, but it was still summer here. Once the pegasus rolled in some cold fronts to get fall started things would start to get better. Reds and yellows were more tolerable than leafy green, but the best part were the austere grays, browns, and whites of winter. Maud didn't know why green bothered her so much, but it did. Perhaps it was just the lack of rocks that often accompanied it. She wasn't here to admire scenery, though. She was here for her education. She was getting her rocktorate in rock science, but this institution required her to study in more than just one field to get a well rounded diploma. Maud examined the list of options on her orientation sheet. She spotted three potential fields that she might want to minor in. To make the choice simpler, the instructors here offered a brief placement exam on each subject. Passing such a test might not be a strict requirement, but it was highly recommended. Maud folded up her information packet and stood in line with the rest of the new arrivals. There were thirty or so in line ahead of her. Like her, most of them had already passed the entrance exam for their major, so they were more worried about getting the keys to their dorm rooms and unpacking luggage. For a pony who carried rocks with her, Maud actually packed lightly. She'd stop at her dorm room after she'd picked a minor. That should help avoid the rush later in the day. The line moved fairly quickly and Maud stepped up to the information desk. The mauve unicorn receptionist smiled at her. Maud couldn't help but notice the huge piles of forms, maps, and information packets piled around the table. All of that paper paper paper seemed like a waste. They'd take the information more seriously if it was carved on stone tablets. Maud said, “Maud Pie.” She'd been watching the line and didn't bother waiting for the receptionist to ask her name. The mare nodded and sorted through her volumes with magic. She levitated over a pair of keys. “Room 306, mare's dorm. You'll be staying with a pony by the name of Suri Polomare. Please sign here. Have you given any thought to your field of study?” Maud scratched her name on the document with a chunk of pure graphite. The name of her roommate meant nothing to her, so she didn't comment on that. With her usual flat expression she said, “Rock science major, with a minor in...” Maud paused. Which field should she minor in? Cooking Poetry Fashion (2)“...Poetry.” Maud said. “Rock science and poetry? Not a bad combo. Rock science is in the Geodome down by the river. Poetry's held in the garden usually, but in bad weather they go indoors to the greenhouse. Try not to muss with the plants as that space is shared with the horticulture students.” “Okay.” Maud took her information packets and walked over to the garden area. According to the pamphlet, she'd have to talk to a pony by the name of Floral Spectrum to take this placement exam. Maud put the papers away and looked around for this pony. Those horticulture students must take a lot of pride in their work because the gardens were lush and teeming with plenty of blooming flowers—even ones that should normally be off-season this time of year. Movement in the bushes caught her eye. Floral Spectrum was oddly camouflaged amongst the meh colors of the bright and cheery garden. She wore a floral dress, her coat was dark green and she had one one those rare multicolor manes. It wasn't organized into an actual spectrum, however; instead it was a mish-mash of seemingly random colors all lumped together in a garish bun. Its only redeeming factor was a large wicker hat that covered most of it. She was bent down sniffing at a yellow carnation and didn't notice Maud. “Excuse me,” Maud said. “Ooh! Oh my, sorry. I didn't hear you walk up.” Floral turned around to face Maud and smoothed out the ruffles in her dress. “I'm Floral Spectrum and if you've come to see me then I guess you're interested in learning poetry.” “Yes.” “Oh, that's so delightful. I'm so glad ponies are coming. I do hope you stay, we had such a small class last year.” Now that Floral pointed it out, Maud looked around. This large garden was suspiciously vacant. Strange... did this teacher have a bad reputation or something? “Well, before I accept you, I guess I should go over the teensy little thing that is the placement exam. It's not too hard, I promise! If you're having trouble, just wiggle your nose and I might just drop a hint or two.” Floral winked at Maud. Just wiggle—no, Maud was not going to do that. Ever. “First of all, what does poetry mean to you?” Floral asked. How should Maud answer this? Rocks. It's something to do when bored. It's an expression of the soul. (3)“...fashion,” Maud said. “Rock science and fashion? Well, I guess there's no accounting for somepony's tastes. I guess you must be into jewelry then?” the receptionist asked as she compiled the information packets into a folder for Maud. “Only if it has rocks.” “You mean gemstones, right?” “All rocks are gifts from the earth.” Maud dug her snout into her right pocket (her left pocket was home of Boulder, her pet rock) and pulled out a gravel necklace. The rocks were misshapen, uneven, and all different colors of gray and darker gray. “I like this one. It reminds me of the farm.” The mauve unicorn frowned and magiced over the folder. “Well, good luck with that. You're going to need it. Zirconia has a bit of a grudge against 'ugly ducklings' if you know what I mean. If you're still feeling up to it, you'll find her at Newpony Hall. Rock science is hosted at the Geodome, but I guess you already know that.” “Thanks.” Maud grabbed the floating folder and opened it to pull out a map of the school. Newpony Hall was actually right in front of her. The receptionist’s table was right in front of it. Maud gave a flat glance at the mauve mare before walking past her and stepping inside. “–supposed to know that the fashion instructor had a freaky knowledge of historical fashion trends?” Maud nearly blundered into a pink pony that was grumbling to herself and pushing a cart of dresses. “Hey, watch it!” “Are you Zirconia?” Maud asked. “Do I look like a zebra? Oh! Heh heh.” The pink pony dropped her scowl and smiled. “Sorry if I seemed a bit rude there. If you're looking for Zirconia then you must be an aspiring fashion designer just like myself. My name's Suri Polomare and if you stick with me then I bet we can both go far together.” “Suri? I'm Maud Pie, your roommate.” “What? No way!” Suri's eyes sparkled and she made a huge grin. “That's even better! Why, I'm sure we'll be the bestest friends in no time at all.” She pulled Maud in for a less-than-appreciated hug. “I don't really know you,” Maud deadpanned. “Now don't be that way. I'm sure we have plenty in common that we can bond over. Why we both have a love of fashion and, um, purple hair, and–” “I'm majoring in rock science. My real passion is rock farming.” “Oh.” Suri cast her eyes back and forth then looked up again. “Well, you wouldn't be here if you weren't at least a little interested in fashion and sharing your exquisite designs with the rest of the world. Am I right, or am I right? Say, how about–” Suri leaned in like she was about to share a dirty secret. Maud pushed her away. “I should take the placement test. We can chat later.” “Well.” Suri straightened out her plaid blue scarf. “There's no need to be pushy. We're all friends here. Speaking of which, from one good friend to another, Zirconia takes a realistic and pragmatic approach to fashion. You won't get far with her if you describe fashion on idealistic terms like 'expressing oneself.' To her, it's all about the results and making ponies look fabulous. Just keep this piece of advice in mind from your good friend Suri when you talk to her, m'kay?” Suri winked at Maud, who stared blankly back at her. Maud left the hallway and entered the classroom. Zirconia was rather odd looking for a pony, but that's probably because she was zebra. Her coat was a mix of white and black stripes and her cutie mark looked like a diamond with a swirl around it. She wore numerous gold bracelets around her ankles and neck, had huge gold earrings, and wore a dazzling headdress of feathers and sparkling white gems. “Another student, I presume? Is that who enters this classroom?” “Yes, I'm Maud Pie. I'd like to minor in fashion.” Zirconia walked up to inspect Maud. She didn't look too impressed with the plain gray-blue dress and rock necklace she wore. “So tell me, drab pony of plain tones, what is with this necklace of stones?” “I made it myself from rocks on the farm.” “Made from sentimental value, I see. It's still better than dresses from ancient history. I have a question, before we begin. What's the meaning of fashion?—give that your best spin.” How should Maud answer that? Fashion is rocks. Fashion is about expressing oneself. Fashion is about making ponies look fabulous. (4)Rocks. (5)More rocks. (6)“It's a rock,” Maud said. “A rock?” “Yes.” Taste Explosion raised an eyebrow and looked at it. “It looks like a wooden rolling pin to me. Are you sure it's a rock?' “Yes, you rock the dough with it, unless you're too petrified to admit that.” Taste laughed. “All good chefs should have a creative touch. You're off to a great start. Now, let's start with a simple sandwich. Everypony has different tastes, so it's up to the chef to make the meal that matches the client. Suppose a rich banker walks in, what kind of sandwich should you make him?” A cheap dandelion sandwich to appeal to his frugality. A goldenrod sandwich to appeal to his expensive tastes. Ask first. That's what the menu's for. A shale sandwich. (7)“Can we please get on with this?” Maud asked. Taste's expression fell flat. “No. No we cannot.” “It's a rolling pin. There. Can we move on now?” Taste Explosion sighed. “Cooking, among other things, requires a fair bit of patience—something you seem to lack. I'm sorry, but perhaps your interests would be better served with a different field of study.” Drat. Start over? (8)“It's a rolling pin,” Maud said. “It is? I happen to think it's a mustache.” Taste Explosion pressed it up against his face and gave a sinister grin. “Mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha. I have your buns! Your cannot hope to stop me now!” “It's still a rolling pin.” “You sure? I think it's a great mustache.” “It's still a rolling pin.” Taste sighed and put it down. “Let me guess, you follow every recipe right to the letter too?” “That's what they're for.” “Okay, how should I put this?” Taste Explosion rolled up his eyes. “That's a great path to follow if you just want to be a culinary technician, and you don't really need an education for that. Somepony had to make those recipes at some point and that requires creativity, of which you haven't expressed any. I'm sorry but perhaps you'll have better luck in a different field.” Drat. Start over? (9)Maud made her flower sandwich and presented it to Taste Explosion. “Hmm, good presentation. The diagonal cut is straight and the ingredients are evenly spaced. The toothpicks are a nice touch. I'm sorry to say though that our hypothetical client can't eat it. He's allergic to bread.” “What?” This revelation did not alter Maud's flat expression. “Yep. Regardless of how cheap or expensive the flowers are, you've still offended him by offering food he can't eat. Now you're down a customer and your shop is going out of business.” “Oops.” “It's true that ponies have different tastes, but you'll never know what those tastes are unless you ask. Never assume you know what another pony wants unless you already know them. That's a fairly basic thing to get wrong. I'm going to have to ask that you pursue a different field of study.” Drat. Start over? (11)Maud placed a rock between two slices of bread and passed it off to Taste Explosion. “Hmm. Um...” Taste scrunched up his face and looked at it from several different angles. He tapped on the rock. “Wha-what the heck is this? I was going to say something about the banker being allergic to bread but this doesn't even look edible!” “It's a shale sandwich.” Maud picked it up and took a bite. “I like it.” Taste Explosion gaped and gave her the strangest look as she crunched down the sedimentary meal. “W-well you shouldn't just assume that other ponies have the same tastes that you do.” He flinched when she took another bite. “Seriously, how can you even eat that?” “With my mouth,” Maud said, between bites. “Well, you and your mouth can go elsewhere. I can't have the inspectors shutting down my kitchen again for heath violations.” Drat. Start over? (12)Maud Pie removed a basket of onions from the cabinets and placed one on a plate. With a hefty swing, she squashed it utterly causing pieces of onion to splatter throughout the entire room. There was nothing left of it but an ugly stain. Taste Explosion stepped up behind her and rubbed his eyes. “Um, what are you doing?” “Peeling onions.” Maud grabbed another plant and splattered it across the entire room. “I... see.” Actually, he had trouble seeing because a splattered piece of onion smacked him in the face and made his eyes tear up. “Did you come up with this, er, technique yourself?” “Boulder helped.” Maud splattered another onion and presented her plate full of three onion stains to Taste Explosion. “Peeled onions,” she said. “No. Just no.” Drat. Start over? (13)Maud took her time rearranging the kitchen to fit her needs for this special family recipe of hers. There weren't proper tools for this, but she made do by arranging glasses and pitchers on the stove and connecting them together with straws. When she was done, her setup looked more like something that belonged in a chemistry lab than a kitchen. Taste Explosion gave her odd looks, but waited to see what she would come up with. Maud added sugar, food coloring, and rocks to her 'beakers' and dissolved them in various solutions over an open flame. Once they were liquid, she allowed them to mix together in specific quantities and the final mixtures were pulled off the flames and allowed to cool. With a piece of string in each for the thick liquid to crystallize on, Maud watched watched as they grew and broke the crystals off into a bowl once they'd reached a certain size. Once she was finished, her bowl looked as if it was full of coarse pebbles. She presented it to Taste Explosion. “Rock candy.” He grabbed a hoof-full of the stuff and popped it in his mouth. “Hmm, it's crunchy, and sweet, and chalky. That's certainly an interesting combo. It's not bad. Not bad at all.” He offered the bowl back to her. “Why don't you try some and tell me how it compares with other batches you've made?” Maud declined. “No. I don't eat it. I don't even like candy.” Taste raised an eyebrow. “You don't eat it? What do you do with it then?” “I make necklaces for other ponies. It's a family tradition.” “I... see.” Taste looked disappointed. “No offense, but cooking's a full-body experience. It's something that you need to be passionate about from the inside out—especially the inside. I'm not saying that what you made is bad, just that what you've made is less like cooking and more like edible fashion. If this is what you're the most passionate about and you won't even eat it then, well, perhaps you'd be better off studying a different field.” Drat. Start over? (15)Maud Pie poured a bunch of rocks into a bowl and passed it to Taste Explosion. “Uh...” He tentatively grabbed it and shook it once or twice. “What's this?” “Rocks.” “Rocks?” “Rocks.” “Why rocks?” “Because rocks.” “No, really. This is a test about cooking, and I asked what you're passionate about, and you gave me rocks. Nopony can eat rocks. What were you thinking?” “That's not true. You can make all kinds of food from rocks. There's rock candy, rock casserole, rock soup, rock cider, rock tarts–” “Whoa, whoa whoa. Now I know you're just pulling my tail. I mean, I can appreciate a joke as much as the next pony but I'm serious when it comes to cooking. If any of that stuff was actually possible wouldn't you have just made some?” “But–” “No buts. If you can't take this seriously then I can't let you stay. Sorry, but perhaps you'd have better luck with a different subject that's an utter joke—like physics.” Drat. Start over? (18)“Poetry is an expression of the soul,” Maud said. “Well said. It's almost poetic in itself. Actually, you could elaborate further to make it poetic: poetry is an expression of the happy, sunny soul that blooms like a flower when it's expressed.” Floral looked up and smiled. She seemed to be living in a world of her own. Maud thought about opening her mouth. That was Floral's idea of poetry? “Now, this next question is a bit technical, so don't forget about wiggling your nose if you need to.” Maud rolled her eyes. “Okay, so I need you to identify what type of poem this is: “Sunshine, O sunshine. Your light fills me with sunshine. Summer sunshine blooms.” Lame. It's a rock. It's a haiku. (19)“It's lame,” Maud said. “Lame!?” Floral Spectum spat. “But that's one of my best ones!” “It's still awful.” “Bah! Like you could do any better.” Floral crossed her forelegs and scowled. Maud cleared her throat. She was certain that she could. “Ahem. “Brick, mortar and sweat. Home upon the mountain range. Landslide reclaimed it.” “Wha? But that's... That's–” “It's better than yours? It has actual literary merit? It talks about disaster and the struggle and futility of pony efforts against the uncontrollable forces of nature?” “It's depressing! Poetry should be happy and sunny, not depressing,” Floral said. “No. Poetry should paint a scene or tell a story. It needs to do more than just repeat the same word uselessly.” Maud looked at Floral with level eyes. “Grr. That haiku wasn't my best effort. Let's see if you can beat me at a Limerick.” Floral Spectrum put on her serious face. “There was a white bunny who hopped. His journey was long but he stopped. He ate a flower. To gain power. Pure sunshine was his to adopt.” “That wasn't bad, but it sounds like you put sunshine at the end just for the sake of saying 'sunshine' instead of going for a deeper meaning,” Maud said. “Of course it has deeper meaning! It means, um, happy, fluffy, er, sunny...” Maud stared plainly. “How about this? “My pet rock's name is Boulder. I carry him by my shoulder. He's just a chip, the tiny tip, of what was once a boulder.” “I've never heard a pony recite a limerick in a flat monotone before. Humph. Your poem probably doesn't mean anything anyway.” Floral crossed her forelegs and pouted. “It's a story about how I obtained my pet rock and it serves as a larger metaphor for how ponies in general have tamed the world that we live in.” “Oh.” Floral cast her eyes down and frowned. “I guess it does.” “How about this one? “A landslide blocked the wagon trail. The minotaurs did moan and wail. We had more bones. We cleared the stones. Us smaller ponies did prevail.” Floral Spectrum blinked. “I guess that's about true strength. It's not enough to have power if you're not willing to use it.” “You're learning.” Floral shook with rage. She tore off her hat and tossed it on the ground. “I'm supposed to be the teacher! I'm not supposed to learn anything! Arrgh!” As quickly as her anger had come, it passed. Floral collapsed on the ground and moaned. “Okay, I admit it. I'm not really qualified for this position. I only got it because the last teacher retired and they didn't have the budget to hire somepony new. My real talent is landscape architecture. The poetry division has done nothing but go downhill since I took over so you know what? I quit. You're the new poetry teacher now. Congrats. I'm going home.” Well, that wasn't quite what Maud was expecting. Now that she was the teacher she could give herself a perfect score in all of her own poetry classes? That sounded too good to be true, but there was more! The faculty position gave her the connections to publish her rock poetry all across Equestria and she could take on students to teach them about the wonders poetry (with rocks of course). Maud clapped her hooves together and smiled. This was the best day ever. BEST END. Start over? (20)“It's a rock,” Maud said. Floral Spectrum made a strange face and a half-giggle. “Uh, no, dear. Do you need a hint? It starts with 'hi' and ends with 'coo...' ” “It's still a rock.” “A rock, dear?” “A rock.” “I... I can't accept that answer.” Floral shook her head. She frowned. “Was the question too hard? Did I do something wrong?” “No offense, but I don't think our visions of poetry mesh. I wouldn't be happy working with you so it's better if I just try a different subject.” Maud Pie turned around and left. Floral Spectrum looked so dejected. It was for the best, though. Still, it kind of irked her that poetry turned out to be a bust because the teacher was insufferable. Drat. Start over? (21)“It's a haiku.” Maud Pie had no trouble identifying the format, even if she didn't like the words. “Excellent.” Floral Spectrum grinned. “I just have one last test. It's more of a formality, really, but we have have to go through the motions to keep the administrators happy. Just recite your best piece of happy, sunny poetry. You can take the time to write something new if you want.” Which poem should Maud recite? A depressing poem about rocks. A happy, sunny poem about rocks. (22)Maud cleared her throat. “Ahem. “Rocks are gray, like my heart. They're hard and cold. Life must depart. Within the pond that is life, I sink amongst the pain and strife. Rocks are still, like my blood. Forever lost amongst the mud.” “Oh, no no no, dear.” Floral shook her head. “I said, 'happy and sunny.' Um, perhaps you didn't hear me well enough the first time? Perhaps you'd like to give it another go?” “Rock. You are gray. Rock. You must stay. Rock. Each and every day. Rock. Does not decay. Rock. It's in my way. I moved it. I took its place. And now I am gray. It's how I stay, each day. How I wish I could decay, but I can't. It's not my way. I am rock.” “That's...” Floral trailed off with her jaw agape. “Should I recite another?” “Do you have any that aren't about rocks?” “They're all about rocks.” “Uh, well, at least they rhymed, right?” Floral grinned sheepishly. “Most of my poetry doesn't rhyme. How about this one? “Solitary rock. It's within my bowl. Gray granite. It's within my soup. Unbreakable stone. It's on my spoon. Igneous lump. It's crunchy.” “I... You know what? On second thought, I don't need students that badly. Why don't you go pick a different subject, hmm?” Drat. Start over? (23)Maud cleared her throat. “Ahem. “The rock stood atop the hill. The sun lit its stoney side. Around it grew daffodil. Beauty ponysonified.” “That wasn't a bad first draft,” Floral Spectrum said, “but it could be improved with just a bit of editing. Take out the rock parts and you'd have a lovely poem.” Edit out the rocks? Edit out the rocks!? Floral smiled and scribbled in her notebook. “Ooh, this is the start of a great and wonderful apprenticeship. I've already gone ahead and signed you up for the semester. Just think of all the wonderful, happy, smiley poetry we'll write and we won't write a single thing about rocks the whole time.” Nooooooo! BAD END. Start over? (24)“To me, fashion's about rocks,” Maud said. “That's too peculiar to ignore. Could you, perhaps, explain some more?” “Fashion is about making one feel at home, and my home is back on the rock farm. Actually, I've written a poem about–” Zirconia shook her head and pointed at the exit. “You've confused fashion for your hobby. I must escort you to the lobby. This might not be what you expected, but too bad for you—you've been rejected.” Drat. Start over? (25)“Fashion is about expressing oneself,” Maud said. “It's just about expression you say? Fashion's not really that way. As a fashionista you've one job to do well, and that's to make ponies look swell.” “I'd rather just look the way I want to look.” Maud pointed a hoof at herself. “Like this.” “I don't mean to be contrary, but the plainness of that garb is scary.” “It's still a dress. If I can make it, so what?” “I guess if you know your technical stuff, that alone should be enough.” Zirconia pointed at a complex looking device full of interlacing strings, straps, and knobs. It was also lined with a crust of dark crystals on its wooden frame. “So you see this simple thing here? You need to tell me what it is, dear.” “It's... um...” Maud stared at it blankly. She was clearly perplexed. “It's got a nice design?” “Three, two, one. Too bad, but you are done. It's a basic, simple thing to know, but a lack of knowledge you do show. This is a crystal pony's slaver's loom. You failed; so leave my room.” Drat. Start over? (27)“I'm going to make one like a geode. It's flashy, but only on the inside. The exterior just looks like a rock,” Maud said. “That's... interesting. But if the gems are hidden, then how does that get you any attention?” Suri asked. “It's sparkles when you take it off.” “Take off the dress to display its value? That's–” Suri gasped. “–that's brilliant! It's defiantly a unique design that nopony else has made and it's bound to impress the instructor.” “So did you want to help make it?” Maud asked. The room was strangely empty. “Suri? Suri?” Suri was gone. “Huh.” Maud ignored Suri's mysterious absence and set to work on sewing her design together. She used a variety of glass beads and colored baubles to achieve the sparkling effect then turned her creation inside-out to hide the fake gemstones and show the drab exterior. It looked like a plain, simple dress once she was done, but some sparkles caught the light around the fringes of it. It wasn't perfect, but it was enough to get the concept across. Maid loaded the dress onto a rolling wardrobe rack and pushed it out into the hall. As soon as she got there, Suri rushed past her into the classroom with a wardrobe rack of her own. The dresses she'd made looked suspiciously like Maud's. “Zirconia, check out this latest fashion trend I designed. I call it, 'geo-wear.' ” Suri proudly displayed her rack of dresses with drab colors and sparkles on the fringes hinting at that the interior beauty. In the time it took Maud to make one, Suri had made three. Zirconia gave her an odd look. “Beauty's not a thing you should hide. Why are your sparkles on the inside?” “It's easier if I just show you. Watch this.” Suri slipped on one of her dresses. A few beads popped off and stuck in her mane when she did so. “Right now I'm a drab nonchalant pony who'd rather not be mobbed by adoring fans.” Suri pulled the dress off, turning it inside-out as she did so. “And now I'm a dazzling superstar who doesn't even need to wear the dress to get attention and look fabulous.” “That's quite the transformation. A trend like that could shock the nation. I guess I was wrong about the Suri Polomare. You're welcome in my class; this I declare.” Zirconia smiled and wrote in her book as Suri grinned back and rolled her cart out. Maud slightly opened her mouth at the scene that played out before her. For her, that was gaping. Before stepping out, Suri paused to whisper in Maud's ear, “You country bumpkins shouldn't be so trusting. Too bad, but in fashion only the ruthless win.” Maud watched in horror with her neutral expression as Zirconia walked up and frowned at the dress she'd made. “You can't just copy the design from another mare. Plagiarism will get you nowhere.” “But that was my design,” Maud said. “You expect me to believe this cheap knock-off is yours? Such ill-refined taste, you're a pony that boors. But you know what?—I'll let you try again. Show me something you made, if you think you can.” Maud shook her head. “I no longer think that fashion's for a pony like me. Boulder and I will find another subject to study.” Zirconia frowned. That rhyme almost sounded like a racial slur. Regardless, Maud wasn't going to be touching fashion again and didn't look forward to sharing a room with that sleazy pony for the whole semester. Drat. Start over? (28)“I'm going to make a dress that incorporates the instability of a landslide,” Maud said. “Uh... how does that work?” Suri scrunched up her face in confusion. “It's like a dress, but it has rocks on it.” “Er, rocks?” “Lots of rocks.” “A dress with a pile of rocks on it?” “Yes. They're piled up really high.” Suri sat there in contemplation. “Oh, now I get it! Fashion's about getting attention so if ponies are worried that your dress is going to fall on them then they're bound to pay attention to you. That's kind of clever, actually.” Maud ignored the brightly colored fabric rolls and pulled out a gray one. “Do you think this is a good color?” she asked. The room was strangely empty. “Suri? Suri?” No response. Maud shrugged and got back to work. The dress she made was a bit crude with rough seams and slightly lopsided sleeves. It wound up being harder to make than she'd expected, but it wasn't an outright atrocity, yet. For the next step, she had to go outside to gather rocks for what she wanted. Oddly enough, the ground was already picked clean in many places. Somepony else here must really love rocks too. When she felt she had enough, she carried them inside and started stacking. Each rock had to fit into the pile exactly right so as to hold the weight of the rocks that would go on top of it. One false placement and the whole pile could come crashing down. It was such a relaxing activity for Maud that she'd forgotten about Suri by the time she'd finished stacking them. The pile was stacked so high that it nearly reached the ceiling. She could have gone higher, but had to cut it short so it could fit through the door. Carefully, slowly, Maud loaded her top-heavy dress onto a cart and pushed it out into the hall. “Make way, coming through!” Suri shouted as she rolled past Maud with a cart of her own. Suri had three dresses on hers, all of which were stacked with wobbling, unstable piles of rocks. Maud backed off as Suri kicked open the door. “Oh, Zirconia~, I've got this wonderful new fashion line that I designed all by myself. It'll totally knock your–” After pushing her cart in quickly, Suri stopped a bit too fast. The rocks didn't. “–wha? Oh no!” “Rocks!? Aaaaa!” Zirconia tried to dodge but she wasn't fast enough. The dangerous fashion statement moved in like a landslide and pinned her beheath a pile of rocks. It also busted up some of the benches in the classroom.“Bah!” “Oh no, sorry! Sorry!” Suri rushed up to help but Zirconia kicked the rocks off like they were made of foam. One crashed into a mannequin, breaking it. Maud glanced at her dangerous dress and nonchalantly pushed her cart towards Suri's pile with her back hoof. She edged away from it. Zirconia dusted herself off and looked at the wreckage of her classroom. She pointed a hoof at Suri. “Oh, sorry you will be, because your time here is history!” “What!? No!” “I don't know what you were thinking, Suri Polomare, but I know what I am; I want you out of my hair!” Suri pointed a hoof at Maud. “It wasn't my fault. It was hers. She set me up for this. Blame her!” “You expect me to believe this novice girl had a plot against you to unfurl?” “Well, yes. The dresses were her idea.” Zirconia raised an eyebrow and looked at Maud. “Is that true? Did you design that bugaboo?” “Er, no,” Maud said. “What!? You liar! You can't do this to me!” “I know which pony's earned my revulsion, the one to whom I'm giving an expulsion.” Zirconia snorted and loomed over Suri. “Leave. Now.” Suri bolted and knocked over the last dress on the way out. “I'll get you for this—both of you!” Maud and Zirconia glanced at each other. “I think I better go,” Maud said. Yikes, Maud's attempt at fashion was so awful that it got her roommate expelled? It'd probably be best if she looked into another subject. Oh well. Go back to orientation? (10)“Whatever he picks from the menu,” Maud said. “Good call. As it turns out, he's allergic to bread so no sandwich would ever please him. You're on a roll, so there's just one more thing I'd like to ask of you. You must have some inner passion for cooking or you wouldn't be here in the first place. Why don't you take the time to demonstrate what you're capable of? Show me what inspired your passion for cooking in the first place. You have to the whole kitchen to work with.” Maud glanced around at the accommodations. This kitchen workshop was very different from her setup back on the rock farm, but she was sure she could tweak things to fit her particular style. What should she make to show off her love of cooking? Peeled onions Rock candy Rock casserole Rocks (1)“...cooking,” Maud said. “Rock science and cooking? That's an... odd combo.” The receptionist smiled, trying to be polite. “What made you think of combining those fields, if you don't mind my asking?” “I make rock candy.” “Huh. I'd never have thought of that. I guess even an old mare like me can learn something new. You'll find the rock science classes in the Geodome. Cooking is studied in Doughnut Hall. Talk to Taste Explosion for the placement test. If you don't do well you can always come back here and try a different subject.” Maud grabbed the information packets and walked off. Doughnut Hall wasn't actually circular. It was a plain, red brick building just like every other plain red brick building on campus. The only real distinct feature seemed to be a powerful cinnamon odor that wafted in her face as soon as she opened the door. An energetic brown earth pony in chef's garb and hat smiled at her. “You must be one of the new students. Come to try your hoof at cooking? I've got the kitchen set up if you want to take the entrance exam.” “Okay,” Maud droned. “Yikes. Such enthusiasm. Please step in and take your place at the counter. But before you begin, can you please tell me what this is?” Taste Explosion held up a rolling pin. He balanced it on his nose. Maud wasn't sure whether or not he was playing with a kitchen utensil or mocking her intelligence. Even a foal knows what a rolling pin is. How should she respond? It's a rock. This is a waste of time. It's a rolling pin. (14)Maud Pie searched through the cabinets until she found a deep-dish baking tray. She added noodles, cheese, some tomato sauce, a layer of gravel, and more noodles and cheese on top to fill out the tray. Lastly, she added her special casserole sauce and topped everything off with water. The dry noodles would absorb most of that while it was baking. Properly prepared, she covered the dish with foil, turned on the oven and shoved it in. It took an hour to cook and when she pulled it out it was steaming hot with a mineral aroma. Taste Explosion gave it an odd look. He hadn't watched her prepare it so he wasn't sure quite what to expect. When it cooled off enough, Maud scooped out a serving for him to taste. Not knowing any better, he stuck his fork in it and took a bite. His eyes popped open in surprise as he struggled to chew through the sample. “It's... crunchy.” “Well it is rock casserole.” Maud scooped out a bite and crunched it down herself. “Your tomato sauce is a bit salty but this isn't much different from the casserole I make back home.” “Rocks...” Taste swallowed his bite, probably to his regret. “You don't mean actual rock rocks, right? That's just a nickname for something else, right?” “No. It's made from real rocks.” Taste Explosion gave the deepest frown and poked at an exposed rock with his fork. “Shouldn't that break teeth?” “I cooked it.” “You... you can cook rocks?” “Yes.” “And they're actually edible?” “They're still rocks.” Taste explosion stared at her, as if daring her to break her composure and reveal the joke. Maud's expression never faltered. He'd have had better luck trying to stare down the moon. “Are you serious?” he asked. “I'm Maud Pie.” Taste Explosion broke out into boisterous laughter and clutched at his sides. A tear ran down his face. “Oh my goodness, rock casserole made from real rocks! I can't say much for the flavor but it's just so absurd that ponies might actually like it—sort of like an extreme eating sport. Well, you've passed my test. You're welcome to study here and we'll make a proper chef out of you yet.” Yay. Start over? (16)“To me, poetry means rocks,” Maud said. “Rocks?” Floral's face fell. “Yes. With my poetry, I express rocks.” “No no no. Real poetry is about sunshine and flowers and happiness.” Floral shook her head. “Are you sure don't mean that instead?” “No, I mean rocks.” Maud pointed at a rock. “I've already written hundreds of poems about rocks.” Floral Spectrum gasped. “Such sacrilege! I might be desperate for students but I'm not going to take some freaky rock fetishist. I'm sorry, but even I have my standards. You'll have to study elsewhere.” Drat. Start over? (17)“Eh, poetry doesn't really mean much to me. It's just something I do when bored,” Maud said. “Wha-what?” “I'm bored a lot, so I write a lot of poetry. It's all about rocks.” “I... heh-heh. That's... something. But real poetry is from the happy, sunny soul and talks about nice stuff like, um, sunshine and happiness.” “I'd rather write about rocks.” “Oh, no no no. You're just misguided, is all. Why, you just haven't discovered your inner passion yet. If you stick with me, I'll unlock it for you and you'll be writing poetry about colorful baby bunnies in no time at all!” Floral Spectrum grinned cheerfully. “How is that any more poetic than writing about rocks?” Maud asked. “It... just is.” Floral scowled. “Don't question it.” “Shouldn't you be more concerned with how the poems are written than what they're about?” “I'm the teacher, and I get to make the rules! If I say that happy, fluffy, sunny, poetry is the only real type of poetry then that's how things will be.” Floral snorted. “No thanks.” Maud turned around left. No wonder that teacher didn't have many students—she was clueless about her subject. Maud might like her poetry, but she wasn't going to be getting a degree in it here from that teacher. Drat. Start over? (26)Maud swallowed her pride. “Fashion's about making ponies look fabulous.” “That's the best answer I've heard all day. Let us see if you're a protégé. We can skip the technical question. Listen to this: my suggestion. Make me a dress that shows me your style. If it's good enough, I'll find you worthwhile.” “What? Here?” Maud looked around the classroom. There were sewing kits, mannequins, thread and cloth in the room, but they looked more like display items then pieces meant for actual use. Zirconia pointed out the door. “There's a workshop out across the hall. You'll find what you need past that wall.” “Oh, thanks.” Maud stepped out. The workshop was well supplied with what one would expect to find in a dressmaker's shop. Well, the materials were cheap, but there was enough variety there to give a good impression of whatever it was she decided to make. “So how'd it go?” Suri Polomare loomed over Maud's shoulder. “She loved it, just like you said she would.” “Bravo. I told you that you'd go far if you stuck by me. Say, do you know what you're going to make for your demonstration? I'm already such an expert on fashion and design that I'm sure I can give you a hint or two to improve on your already exquisite design even further.” “Well...” “Yes? Yes?” What kind of dress should Maud make? One that captures the essence of a geode. One that captures the thrill of a landslide.
(0) Orientation – Start HereMaud Pie stepped off the train at the station by Hoovard Unihorseity. The weather this time of year was sunny enough for Cambridle, Horseachusetts. It lacked the pleasant grays and soothing browns of the rock farm, but it was still summer here. Once the pegasus rolled in some cold fronts to get fall started things would start to get better. Reds and yellows were more tolerable than leafy green, but the best part were the austere grays, browns, and whites of winter. Maud didn't know why green bothered her so much, but it did. Perhaps it was just the lack of rocks that often accompanied it. She wasn't here to admire scenery, though. She was here for her education. She was getting her rocktorate in rock science, but this institution required her to study in more than just one field to get a well rounded diploma. Maud examined the list of options on her orientation sheet. She spotted three potential fields that she might want to minor in. To make the choice simpler, the instructors here offered a brief placement exam on each subject. Passing such a test might not be a strict requirement, but it was highly recommended. Maud folded up her information packet and stood in line with the rest of the new arrivals. There were thirty or so in line ahead of her. Like her, most of them had already passed the entrance exam for their major, so they were more worried about getting the keys to their dorm rooms and unpacking luggage. For a pony who carried rocks with her, Maud actually packed lightly. She'd stop at her dorm room after she'd picked a minor. That should help avoid the rush later in the day. The line moved fairly quickly and Maud stepped up to the information desk. The mauve unicorn receptionist smiled at her. Maud couldn't help but notice the huge piles of forms, maps, and information packets piled around the table. All of that paper paper paper seemed like a waste. They'd take the information more seriously if it was carved on stone tablets. Maud said, “Maud Pie.” She'd been watching the line and didn't bother waiting for the receptionist to ask her name. The mare nodded and sorted through her volumes with magic. She levitated over a pair of keys. “Room 306, mare's dorm. You'll be staying with a pony by the name of Suri Polomare. Please sign here. Have you given any thought to your field of study?” Maud scratched her name on the document with a chunk of pure graphite. The name of her roommate meant nothing to her, so she didn't comment on that. With her usual flat expression she said, “Rock science major, with a minor in...” Maud paused. Which field should she minor in? Cooking Poetry Fashion
(2)“...Poetry.” Maud said. “Rock science and poetry? Not a bad combo. Rock science is in the Geodome down by the river. Poetry's held in the garden usually, but in bad weather they go indoors to the greenhouse. Try not to muss with the plants as that space is shared with the horticulture students.” “Okay.” Maud took her information packets and walked over to the garden area. According to the pamphlet, she'd have to talk to a pony by the name of Floral Spectrum to take this placement exam. Maud put the papers away and looked around for this pony. Those horticulture students must take a lot of pride in their work because the gardens were lush and teeming with plenty of blooming flowers—even ones that should normally be off-season this time of year. Movement in the bushes caught her eye. Floral Spectrum was oddly camouflaged amongst the meh colors of the bright and cheery garden. She wore a floral dress, her coat was dark green and she had one one those rare multicolor manes. It wasn't organized into an actual spectrum, however; instead it was a mish-mash of seemingly random colors all lumped together in a garish bun. Its only redeeming factor was a large wicker hat that covered most of it. She was bent down sniffing at a yellow carnation and didn't notice Maud. “Excuse me,” Maud said. “Ooh! Oh my, sorry. I didn't hear you walk up.” Floral turned around to face Maud and smoothed out the ruffles in her dress. “I'm Floral Spectrum and if you've come to see me then I guess you're interested in learning poetry.” “Yes.” “Oh, that's so delightful. I'm so glad ponies are coming. I do hope you stay, we had such a small class last year.” Now that Floral pointed it out, Maud looked around. This large garden was suspiciously vacant. Strange... did this teacher have a bad reputation or something? “Well, before I accept you, I guess I should go over the teensy little thing that is the placement exam. It's not too hard, I promise! If you're having trouble, just wiggle your nose and I might just drop a hint or two.” Floral winked at Maud. Just wiggle—no, Maud was not going to do that. Ever. “First of all, what does poetry mean to you?” Floral asked. How should Maud answer this? Rocks. It's something to do when bored. It's an expression of the soul.
(3)“...fashion,” Maud said. “Rock science and fashion? Well, I guess there's no accounting for somepony's tastes. I guess you must be into jewelry then?” the receptionist asked as she compiled the information packets into a folder for Maud. “Only if it has rocks.” “You mean gemstones, right?” “All rocks are gifts from the earth.” Maud dug her snout into her right pocket (her left pocket was home of Boulder, her pet rock) and pulled out a gravel necklace. The rocks were misshapen, uneven, and all different colors of gray and darker gray. “I like this one. It reminds me of the farm.” The mauve unicorn frowned and magiced over the folder. “Well, good luck with that. You're going to need it. Zirconia has a bit of a grudge against 'ugly ducklings' if you know what I mean. If you're still feeling up to it, you'll find her at Newpony Hall. Rock science is hosted at the Geodome, but I guess you already know that.” “Thanks.” Maud grabbed the floating folder and opened it to pull out a map of the school. Newpony Hall was actually right in front of her. The receptionist’s table was right in front of it. Maud gave a flat glance at the mauve mare before walking past her and stepping inside. “–supposed to know that the fashion instructor had a freaky knowledge of historical fashion trends?” Maud nearly blundered into a pink pony that was grumbling to herself and pushing a cart of dresses. “Hey, watch it!” “Are you Zirconia?” Maud asked. “Do I look like a zebra? Oh! Heh heh.” The pink pony dropped her scowl and smiled. “Sorry if I seemed a bit rude there. If you're looking for Zirconia then you must be an aspiring fashion designer just like myself. My name's Suri Polomare and if you stick with me then I bet we can both go far together.” “Suri? I'm Maud Pie, your roommate.” “What? No way!” Suri's eyes sparkled and she made a huge grin. “That's even better! Why, I'm sure we'll be the bestest friends in no time at all.” She pulled Maud in for a less-than-appreciated hug. “I don't really know you,” Maud deadpanned. “Now don't be that way. I'm sure we have plenty in common that we can bond over. Why we both have a love of fashion and, um, purple hair, and–” “I'm majoring in rock science. My real passion is rock farming.” “Oh.” Suri cast her eyes back and forth then looked up again. “Well, you wouldn't be here if you weren't at least a little interested in fashion and sharing your exquisite designs with the rest of the world. Am I right, or am I right? Say, how about–” Suri leaned in like she was about to share a dirty secret. Maud pushed her away. “I should take the placement test. We can chat later.” “Well.” Suri straightened out her plaid blue scarf. “There's no need to be pushy. We're all friends here. Speaking of which, from one good friend to another, Zirconia takes a realistic and pragmatic approach to fashion. You won't get far with her if you describe fashion on idealistic terms like 'expressing oneself.' To her, it's all about the results and making ponies look fabulous. Just keep this piece of advice in mind from your good friend Suri when you talk to her, m'kay?” Suri winked at Maud, who stared blankly back at her. Maud left the hallway and entered the classroom. Zirconia was rather odd looking for a pony, but that's probably because she was zebra. Her coat was a mix of white and black stripes and her cutie mark looked like a diamond with a swirl around it. She wore numerous gold bracelets around her ankles and neck, had huge gold earrings, and wore a dazzling headdress of feathers and sparkling white gems. “Another student, I presume? Is that who enters this classroom?” “Yes, I'm Maud Pie. I'd like to minor in fashion.” Zirconia walked up to inspect Maud. She didn't look too impressed with the plain gray-blue dress and rock necklace she wore. “So tell me, drab pony of plain tones, what is with this necklace of stones?” “I made it myself from rocks on the farm.” “Made from sentimental value, I see. It's still better than dresses from ancient history. I have a question, before we begin. What's the meaning of fashion?—give that your best spin.” How should Maud answer that? Fashion is rocks. Fashion is about expressing oneself. Fashion is about making ponies look fabulous.
(6)“It's a rock,” Maud said. “A rock?” “Yes.” Taste Explosion raised an eyebrow and looked at it. “It looks like a wooden rolling pin to me. Are you sure it's a rock?' “Yes, you rock the dough with it, unless you're too petrified to admit that.” Taste laughed. “All good chefs should have a creative touch. You're off to a great start. Now, let's start with a simple sandwich. Everypony has different tastes, so it's up to the chef to make the meal that matches the client. Suppose a rich banker walks in, what kind of sandwich should you make him?” A cheap dandelion sandwich to appeal to his frugality. A goldenrod sandwich to appeal to his expensive tastes. Ask first. That's what the menu's for. A shale sandwich.
(7)“Can we please get on with this?” Maud asked. Taste's expression fell flat. “No. No we cannot.” “It's a rolling pin. There. Can we move on now?” Taste Explosion sighed. “Cooking, among other things, requires a fair bit of patience—something you seem to lack. I'm sorry, but perhaps your interests would be better served with a different field of study.” Drat. Start over?
(8)“It's a rolling pin,” Maud said. “It is? I happen to think it's a mustache.” Taste Explosion pressed it up against his face and gave a sinister grin. “Mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha. I have your buns! Your cannot hope to stop me now!” “It's still a rolling pin.” “You sure? I think it's a great mustache.” “It's still a rolling pin.” Taste sighed and put it down. “Let me guess, you follow every recipe right to the letter too?” “That's what they're for.” “Okay, how should I put this?” Taste Explosion rolled up his eyes. “That's a great path to follow if you just want to be a culinary technician, and you don't really need an education for that. Somepony had to make those recipes at some point and that requires creativity, of which you haven't expressed any. I'm sorry but perhaps you'll have better luck in a different field.” Drat. Start over?
(9)Maud made her flower sandwich and presented it to Taste Explosion. “Hmm, good presentation. The diagonal cut is straight and the ingredients are evenly spaced. The toothpicks are a nice touch. I'm sorry to say though that our hypothetical client can't eat it. He's allergic to bread.” “What?” This revelation did not alter Maud's flat expression. “Yep. Regardless of how cheap or expensive the flowers are, you've still offended him by offering food he can't eat. Now you're down a customer and your shop is going out of business.” “Oops.” “It's true that ponies have different tastes, but you'll never know what those tastes are unless you ask. Never assume you know what another pony wants unless you already know them. That's a fairly basic thing to get wrong. I'm going to have to ask that you pursue a different field of study.” Drat. Start over?
(11)Maud placed a rock between two slices of bread and passed it off to Taste Explosion. “Hmm. Um...” Taste scrunched up his face and looked at it from several different angles. He tapped on the rock. “Wha-what the heck is this? I was going to say something about the banker being allergic to bread but this doesn't even look edible!” “It's a shale sandwich.” Maud picked it up and took a bite. “I like it.” Taste Explosion gaped and gave her the strangest look as she crunched down the sedimentary meal. “W-well you shouldn't just assume that other ponies have the same tastes that you do.” He flinched when she took another bite. “Seriously, how can you even eat that?” “With my mouth,” Maud said, between bites. “Well, you and your mouth can go elsewhere. I can't have the inspectors shutting down my kitchen again for heath violations.” Drat. Start over?
(12)Maud Pie removed a basket of onions from the cabinets and placed one on a plate. With a hefty swing, she squashed it utterly causing pieces of onion to splatter throughout the entire room. There was nothing left of it but an ugly stain. Taste Explosion stepped up behind her and rubbed his eyes. “Um, what are you doing?” “Peeling onions.” Maud grabbed another plant and splattered it across the entire room. “I... see.” Actually, he had trouble seeing because a splattered piece of onion smacked him in the face and made his eyes tear up. “Did you come up with this, er, technique yourself?” “Boulder helped.” Maud splattered another onion and presented her plate full of three onion stains to Taste Explosion. “Peeled onions,” she said. “No. Just no.” Drat. Start over?
(13)Maud took her time rearranging the kitchen to fit her needs for this special family recipe of hers. There weren't proper tools for this, but she made do by arranging glasses and pitchers on the stove and connecting them together with straws. When she was done, her setup looked more like something that belonged in a chemistry lab than a kitchen. Taste Explosion gave her odd looks, but waited to see what she would come up with. Maud added sugar, food coloring, and rocks to her 'beakers' and dissolved them in various solutions over an open flame. Once they were liquid, she allowed them to mix together in specific quantities and the final mixtures were pulled off the flames and allowed to cool. With a piece of string in each for the thick liquid to crystallize on, Maud watched watched as they grew and broke the crystals off into a bowl once they'd reached a certain size. Once she was finished, her bowl looked as if it was full of coarse pebbles. She presented it to Taste Explosion. “Rock candy.” He grabbed a hoof-full of the stuff and popped it in his mouth. “Hmm, it's crunchy, and sweet, and chalky. That's certainly an interesting combo. It's not bad. Not bad at all.” He offered the bowl back to her. “Why don't you try some and tell me how it compares with other batches you've made?” Maud declined. “No. I don't eat it. I don't even like candy.” Taste raised an eyebrow. “You don't eat it? What do you do with it then?” “I make necklaces for other ponies. It's a family tradition.” “I... see.” Taste looked disappointed. “No offense, but cooking's a full-body experience. It's something that you need to be passionate about from the inside out—especially the inside. I'm not saying that what you made is bad, just that what you've made is less like cooking and more like edible fashion. If this is what you're the most passionate about and you won't even eat it then, well, perhaps you'd be better off studying a different field.” Drat. Start over?
(15)Maud Pie poured a bunch of rocks into a bowl and passed it to Taste Explosion. “Uh...” He tentatively grabbed it and shook it once or twice. “What's this?” “Rocks.” “Rocks?” “Rocks.” “Why rocks?” “Because rocks.” “No, really. This is a test about cooking, and I asked what you're passionate about, and you gave me rocks. Nopony can eat rocks. What were you thinking?” “That's not true. You can make all kinds of food from rocks. There's rock candy, rock casserole, rock soup, rock cider, rock tarts–” “Whoa, whoa whoa. Now I know you're just pulling my tail. I mean, I can appreciate a joke as much as the next pony but I'm serious when it comes to cooking. If any of that stuff was actually possible wouldn't you have just made some?” “But–” “No buts. If you can't take this seriously then I can't let you stay. Sorry, but perhaps you'd have better luck with a different subject that's an utter joke—like physics.” Drat. Start over?
(18)“Poetry is an expression of the soul,” Maud said. “Well said. It's almost poetic in itself. Actually, you could elaborate further to make it poetic: poetry is an expression of the happy, sunny soul that blooms like a flower when it's expressed.” Floral looked up and smiled. She seemed to be living in a world of her own. Maud thought about opening her mouth. That was Floral's idea of poetry? “Now, this next question is a bit technical, so don't forget about wiggling your nose if you need to.” Maud rolled her eyes. “Okay, so I need you to identify what type of poem this is: “Sunshine, O sunshine. Your light fills me with sunshine. Summer sunshine blooms.” Lame. It's a rock. It's a haiku.
(19)“It's lame,” Maud said. “Lame!?” Floral Spectum spat. “But that's one of my best ones!” “It's still awful.” “Bah! Like you could do any better.” Floral crossed her forelegs and scowled. Maud cleared her throat. She was certain that she could. “Ahem. “Brick, mortar and sweat. Home upon the mountain range. Landslide reclaimed it.” “Wha? But that's... That's–” “It's better than yours? It has actual literary merit? It talks about disaster and the struggle and futility of pony efforts against the uncontrollable forces of nature?” “It's depressing! Poetry should be happy and sunny, not depressing,” Floral said. “No. Poetry should paint a scene or tell a story. It needs to do more than just repeat the same word uselessly.” Maud looked at Floral with level eyes. “Grr. That haiku wasn't my best effort. Let's see if you can beat me at a Limerick.” Floral Spectrum put on her serious face. “There was a white bunny who hopped. His journey was long but he stopped. He ate a flower. To gain power. Pure sunshine was his to adopt.” “That wasn't bad, but it sounds like you put sunshine at the end just for the sake of saying 'sunshine' instead of going for a deeper meaning,” Maud said. “Of course it has deeper meaning! It means, um, happy, fluffy, er, sunny...” Maud stared plainly. “How about this? “My pet rock's name is Boulder. I carry him by my shoulder. He's just a chip, the tiny tip, of what was once a boulder.” “I've never heard a pony recite a limerick in a flat monotone before. Humph. Your poem probably doesn't mean anything anyway.” Floral crossed her forelegs and pouted. “It's a story about how I obtained my pet rock and it serves as a larger metaphor for how ponies in general have tamed the world that we live in.” “Oh.” Floral cast her eyes down and frowned. “I guess it does.” “How about this one? “A landslide blocked the wagon trail. The minotaurs did moan and wail. We had more bones. We cleared the stones. Us smaller ponies did prevail.” Floral Spectrum blinked. “I guess that's about true strength. It's not enough to have power if you're not willing to use it.” “You're learning.” Floral shook with rage. She tore off her hat and tossed it on the ground. “I'm supposed to be the teacher! I'm not supposed to learn anything! Arrgh!” As quickly as her anger had come, it passed. Floral collapsed on the ground and moaned. “Okay, I admit it. I'm not really qualified for this position. I only got it because the last teacher retired and they didn't have the budget to hire somepony new. My real talent is landscape architecture. The poetry division has done nothing but go downhill since I took over so you know what? I quit. You're the new poetry teacher now. Congrats. I'm going home.” Well, that wasn't quite what Maud was expecting. Now that she was the teacher she could give herself a perfect score in all of her own poetry classes? That sounded too good to be true, but there was more! The faculty position gave her the connections to publish her rock poetry all across Equestria and she could take on students to teach them about the wonders poetry (with rocks of course). Maud clapped her hooves together and smiled. This was the best day ever. BEST END. Start over?
(20)“It's a rock,” Maud said. Floral Spectrum made a strange face and a half-giggle. “Uh, no, dear. Do you need a hint? It starts with 'hi' and ends with 'coo...' ” “It's still a rock.” “A rock, dear?” “A rock.” “I... I can't accept that answer.” Floral shook her head. She frowned. “Was the question too hard? Did I do something wrong?” “No offense, but I don't think our visions of poetry mesh. I wouldn't be happy working with you so it's better if I just try a different subject.” Maud Pie turned around and left. Floral Spectrum looked so dejected. It was for the best, though. Still, it kind of irked her that poetry turned out to be a bust because the teacher was insufferable. Drat. Start over?
(21)“It's a haiku.” Maud Pie had no trouble identifying the format, even if she didn't like the words. “Excellent.” Floral Spectrum grinned. “I just have one last test. It's more of a formality, really, but we have have to go through the motions to keep the administrators happy. Just recite your best piece of happy, sunny poetry. You can take the time to write something new if you want.” Which poem should Maud recite? A depressing poem about rocks. A happy, sunny poem about rocks.
(22)Maud cleared her throat. “Ahem. “Rocks are gray, like my heart. They're hard and cold. Life must depart. Within the pond that is life, I sink amongst the pain and strife. Rocks are still, like my blood. Forever lost amongst the mud.” “Oh, no no no, dear.” Floral shook her head. “I said, 'happy and sunny.' Um, perhaps you didn't hear me well enough the first time? Perhaps you'd like to give it another go?” “Rock. You are gray. Rock. You must stay. Rock. Each and every day. Rock. Does not decay. Rock. It's in my way. I moved it. I took its place. And now I am gray. It's how I stay, each day. How I wish I could decay, but I can't. It's not my way. I am rock.” “That's...” Floral trailed off with her jaw agape. “Should I recite another?” “Do you have any that aren't about rocks?” “They're all about rocks.” “Uh, well, at least they rhymed, right?” Floral grinned sheepishly. “Most of my poetry doesn't rhyme. How about this one? “Solitary rock. It's within my bowl. Gray granite. It's within my soup. Unbreakable stone. It's on my spoon. Igneous lump. It's crunchy.” “I... You know what? On second thought, I don't need students that badly. Why don't you go pick a different subject, hmm?” Drat. Start over?
(23)Maud cleared her throat. “Ahem. “The rock stood atop the hill. The sun lit its stoney side. Around it grew daffodil. Beauty ponysonified.” “That wasn't a bad first draft,” Floral Spectrum said, “but it could be improved with just a bit of editing. Take out the rock parts and you'd have a lovely poem.” Edit out the rocks? Edit out the rocks!? Floral smiled and scribbled in her notebook. “Ooh, this is the start of a great and wonderful apprenticeship. I've already gone ahead and signed you up for the semester. Just think of all the wonderful, happy, smiley poetry we'll write and we won't write a single thing about rocks the whole time.” Nooooooo! BAD END. Start over?
(24)“To me, fashion's about rocks,” Maud said. “That's too peculiar to ignore. Could you, perhaps, explain some more?” “Fashion is about making one feel at home, and my home is back on the rock farm. Actually, I've written a poem about–” Zirconia shook her head and pointed at the exit. “You've confused fashion for your hobby. I must escort you to the lobby. This might not be what you expected, but too bad for you—you've been rejected.” Drat. Start over?
(25)“Fashion is about expressing oneself,” Maud said. “It's just about expression you say? Fashion's not really that way. As a fashionista you've one job to do well, and that's to make ponies look swell.” “I'd rather just look the way I want to look.” Maud pointed a hoof at herself. “Like this.” “I don't mean to be contrary, but the plainness of that garb is scary.” “It's still a dress. If I can make it, so what?” “I guess if you know your technical stuff, that alone should be enough.” Zirconia pointed at a complex looking device full of interlacing strings, straps, and knobs. It was also lined with a crust of dark crystals on its wooden frame. “So you see this simple thing here? You need to tell me what it is, dear.” “It's... um...” Maud stared at it blankly. She was clearly perplexed. “It's got a nice design?” “Three, two, one. Too bad, but you are done. It's a basic, simple thing to know, but a lack of knowledge you do show. This is a crystal pony's slaver's loom. You failed; so leave my room.” Drat. Start over?
(27)“I'm going to make one like a geode. It's flashy, but only on the inside. The exterior just looks like a rock,” Maud said. “That's... interesting. But if the gems are hidden, then how does that get you any attention?” Suri asked. “It's sparkles when you take it off.” “Take off the dress to display its value? That's–” Suri gasped. “–that's brilliant! It's defiantly a unique design that nopony else has made and it's bound to impress the instructor.” “So did you want to help make it?” Maud asked. The room was strangely empty. “Suri? Suri?” Suri was gone. “Huh.” Maud ignored Suri's mysterious absence and set to work on sewing her design together. She used a variety of glass beads and colored baubles to achieve the sparkling effect then turned her creation inside-out to hide the fake gemstones and show the drab exterior. It looked like a plain, simple dress once she was done, but some sparkles caught the light around the fringes of it. It wasn't perfect, but it was enough to get the concept across. Maid loaded the dress onto a rolling wardrobe rack and pushed it out into the hall. As soon as she got there, Suri rushed past her into the classroom with a wardrobe rack of her own. The dresses she'd made looked suspiciously like Maud's. “Zirconia, check out this latest fashion trend I designed. I call it, 'geo-wear.' ” Suri proudly displayed her rack of dresses with drab colors and sparkles on the fringes hinting at that the interior beauty. In the time it took Maud to make one, Suri had made three. Zirconia gave her an odd look. “Beauty's not a thing you should hide. Why are your sparkles on the inside?” “It's easier if I just show you. Watch this.” Suri slipped on one of her dresses. A few beads popped off and stuck in her mane when she did so. “Right now I'm a drab nonchalant pony who'd rather not be mobbed by adoring fans.” Suri pulled the dress off, turning it inside-out as she did so. “And now I'm a dazzling superstar who doesn't even need to wear the dress to get attention and look fabulous.” “That's quite the transformation. A trend like that could shock the nation. I guess I was wrong about the Suri Polomare. You're welcome in my class; this I declare.” Zirconia smiled and wrote in her book as Suri grinned back and rolled her cart out. Maud slightly opened her mouth at the scene that played out before her. For her, that was gaping. Before stepping out, Suri paused to whisper in Maud's ear, “You country bumpkins shouldn't be so trusting. Too bad, but in fashion only the ruthless win.” Maud watched in horror with her neutral expression as Zirconia walked up and frowned at the dress she'd made. “You can't just copy the design from another mare. Plagiarism will get you nowhere.” “But that was my design,” Maud said. “You expect me to believe this cheap knock-off is yours? Such ill-refined taste, you're a pony that boors. But you know what?—I'll let you try again. Show me something you made, if you think you can.” Maud shook her head. “I no longer think that fashion's for a pony like me. Boulder and I will find another subject to study.” Zirconia frowned. That rhyme almost sounded like a racial slur. Regardless, Maud wasn't going to be touching fashion again and didn't look forward to sharing a room with that sleazy pony for the whole semester. Drat. Start over?
(28)“I'm going to make a dress that incorporates the instability of a landslide,” Maud said. “Uh... how does that work?” Suri scrunched up her face in confusion. “It's like a dress, but it has rocks on it.” “Er, rocks?” “Lots of rocks.” “A dress with a pile of rocks on it?” “Yes. They're piled up really high.” Suri sat there in contemplation. “Oh, now I get it! Fashion's about getting attention so if ponies are worried that your dress is going to fall on them then they're bound to pay attention to you. That's kind of clever, actually.” Maud ignored the brightly colored fabric rolls and pulled out a gray one. “Do you think this is a good color?” she asked. The room was strangely empty. “Suri? Suri?” No response. Maud shrugged and got back to work. The dress she made was a bit crude with rough seams and slightly lopsided sleeves. It wound up being harder to make than she'd expected, but it wasn't an outright atrocity, yet. For the next step, she had to go outside to gather rocks for what she wanted. Oddly enough, the ground was already picked clean in many places. Somepony else here must really love rocks too. When she felt she had enough, she carried them inside and started stacking. Each rock had to fit into the pile exactly right so as to hold the weight of the rocks that would go on top of it. One false placement and the whole pile could come crashing down. It was such a relaxing activity for Maud that she'd forgotten about Suri by the time she'd finished stacking them. The pile was stacked so high that it nearly reached the ceiling. She could have gone higher, but had to cut it short so it could fit through the door. Carefully, slowly, Maud loaded her top-heavy dress onto a cart and pushed it out into the hall. “Make way, coming through!” Suri shouted as she rolled past Maud with a cart of her own. Suri had three dresses on hers, all of which were stacked with wobbling, unstable piles of rocks. Maud backed off as Suri kicked open the door. “Oh, Zirconia~, I've got this wonderful new fashion line that I designed all by myself. It'll totally knock your–” After pushing her cart in quickly, Suri stopped a bit too fast. The rocks didn't. “–wha? Oh no!” “Rocks!? Aaaaa!” Zirconia tried to dodge but she wasn't fast enough. The dangerous fashion statement moved in like a landslide and pinned her beheath a pile of rocks. It also busted up some of the benches in the classroom.“Bah!” “Oh no, sorry! Sorry!” Suri rushed up to help but Zirconia kicked the rocks off like they were made of foam. One crashed into a mannequin, breaking it. Maud glanced at her dangerous dress and nonchalantly pushed her cart towards Suri's pile with her back hoof. She edged away from it. Zirconia dusted herself off and looked at the wreckage of her classroom. She pointed a hoof at Suri. “Oh, sorry you will be, because your time here is history!” “What!? No!” “I don't know what you were thinking, Suri Polomare, but I know what I am; I want you out of my hair!” Suri pointed a hoof at Maud. “It wasn't my fault. It was hers. She set me up for this. Blame her!” “You expect me to believe this novice girl had a plot against you to unfurl?” “Well, yes. The dresses were her idea.” Zirconia raised an eyebrow and looked at Maud. “Is that true? Did you design that bugaboo?” “Er, no,” Maud said. “What!? You liar! You can't do this to me!” “I know which pony's earned my revulsion, the one to whom I'm giving an expulsion.” Zirconia snorted and loomed over Suri. “Leave. Now.” Suri bolted and knocked over the last dress on the way out. “I'll get you for this—both of you!” Maud and Zirconia glanced at each other. “I think I better go,” Maud said. Yikes, Maud's attempt at fashion was so awful that it got her roommate expelled? It'd probably be best if she looked into another subject. Oh well. Go back to orientation?
(10)“Whatever he picks from the menu,” Maud said. “Good call. As it turns out, he's allergic to bread so no sandwich would ever please him. You're on a roll, so there's just one more thing I'd like to ask of you. You must have some inner passion for cooking or you wouldn't be here in the first place. Why don't you take the time to demonstrate what you're capable of? Show me what inspired your passion for cooking in the first place. You have to the whole kitchen to work with.” Maud glanced around at the accommodations. This kitchen workshop was very different from her setup back on the rock farm, but she was sure she could tweak things to fit her particular style. What should she make to show off her love of cooking? Peeled onions Rock candy Rock casserole Rocks
(1)“...cooking,” Maud said. “Rock science and cooking? That's an... odd combo.” The receptionist smiled, trying to be polite. “What made you think of combining those fields, if you don't mind my asking?” “I make rock candy.” “Huh. I'd never have thought of that. I guess even an old mare like me can learn something new. You'll find the rock science classes in the Geodome. Cooking is studied in Doughnut Hall. Talk to Taste Explosion for the placement test. If you don't do well you can always come back here and try a different subject.” Maud grabbed the information packets and walked off. Doughnut Hall wasn't actually circular. It was a plain, red brick building just like every other plain red brick building on campus. The only real distinct feature seemed to be a powerful cinnamon odor that wafted in her face as soon as she opened the door. An energetic brown earth pony in chef's garb and hat smiled at her. “You must be one of the new students. Come to try your hoof at cooking? I've got the kitchen set up if you want to take the entrance exam.” “Okay,” Maud droned. “Yikes. Such enthusiasm. Please step in and take your place at the counter. But before you begin, can you please tell me what this is?” Taste Explosion held up a rolling pin. He balanced it on his nose. Maud wasn't sure whether or not he was playing with a kitchen utensil or mocking her intelligence. Even a foal knows what a rolling pin is. How should she respond? It's a rock. This is a waste of time. It's a rolling pin.
(14)Maud Pie searched through the cabinets until she found a deep-dish baking tray. She added noodles, cheese, some tomato sauce, a layer of gravel, and more noodles and cheese on top to fill out the tray. Lastly, she added her special casserole sauce and topped everything off with water. The dry noodles would absorb most of that while it was baking. Properly prepared, she covered the dish with foil, turned on the oven and shoved it in. It took an hour to cook and when she pulled it out it was steaming hot with a mineral aroma. Taste Explosion gave it an odd look. He hadn't watched her prepare it so he wasn't sure quite what to expect. When it cooled off enough, Maud scooped out a serving for him to taste. Not knowing any better, he stuck his fork in it and took a bite. His eyes popped open in surprise as he struggled to chew through the sample. “It's... crunchy.” “Well it is rock casserole.” Maud scooped out a bite and crunched it down herself. “Your tomato sauce is a bit salty but this isn't much different from the casserole I make back home.” “Rocks...” Taste swallowed his bite, probably to his regret. “You don't mean actual rock rocks, right? That's just a nickname for something else, right?” “No. It's made from real rocks.” Taste Explosion gave the deepest frown and poked at an exposed rock with his fork. “Shouldn't that break teeth?” “I cooked it.” “You... you can cook rocks?” “Yes.” “And they're actually edible?” “They're still rocks.” Taste explosion stared at her, as if daring her to break her composure and reveal the joke. Maud's expression never faltered. He'd have had better luck trying to stare down the moon. “Are you serious?” he asked. “I'm Maud Pie.” Taste Explosion broke out into boisterous laughter and clutched at his sides. A tear ran down his face. “Oh my goodness, rock casserole made from real rocks! I can't say much for the flavor but it's just so absurd that ponies might actually like it—sort of like an extreme eating sport. Well, you've passed my test. You're welcome to study here and we'll make a proper chef out of you yet.” Yay. Start over?
(16)“To me, poetry means rocks,” Maud said. “Rocks?” Floral's face fell. “Yes. With my poetry, I express rocks.” “No no no. Real poetry is about sunshine and flowers and happiness.” Floral shook her head. “Are you sure don't mean that instead?” “No, I mean rocks.” Maud pointed at a rock. “I've already written hundreds of poems about rocks.” Floral Spectrum gasped. “Such sacrilege! I might be desperate for students but I'm not going to take some freaky rock fetishist. I'm sorry, but even I have my standards. You'll have to study elsewhere.” Drat. Start over?
(17)“Eh, poetry doesn't really mean much to me. It's just something I do when bored,” Maud said. “Wha-what?” “I'm bored a lot, so I write a lot of poetry. It's all about rocks.” “I... heh-heh. That's... something. But real poetry is from the happy, sunny soul and talks about nice stuff like, um, sunshine and happiness.” “I'd rather write about rocks.” “Oh, no no no. You're just misguided, is all. Why, you just haven't discovered your inner passion yet. If you stick with me, I'll unlock it for you and you'll be writing poetry about colorful baby bunnies in no time at all!” Floral Spectrum grinned cheerfully. “How is that any more poetic than writing about rocks?” Maud asked. “It... just is.” Floral scowled. “Don't question it.” “Shouldn't you be more concerned with how the poems are written than what they're about?” “I'm the teacher, and I get to make the rules! If I say that happy, fluffy, sunny, poetry is the only real type of poetry then that's how things will be.” Floral snorted. “No thanks.” Maud turned around left. No wonder that teacher didn't have many students—she was clueless about her subject. Maud might like her poetry, but she wasn't going to be getting a degree in it here from that teacher. Drat. Start over?
(26)Maud swallowed her pride. “Fashion's about making ponies look fabulous.” “That's the best answer I've heard all day. Let us see if you're a protégé. We can skip the technical question. Listen to this: my suggestion. Make me a dress that shows me your style. If it's good enough, I'll find you worthwhile.” “What? Here?” Maud looked around the classroom. There were sewing kits, mannequins, thread and cloth in the room, but they looked more like display items then pieces meant for actual use. Zirconia pointed out the door. “There's a workshop out across the hall. You'll find what you need past that wall.” “Oh, thanks.” Maud stepped out. The workshop was well supplied with what one would expect to find in a dressmaker's shop. Well, the materials were cheap, but there was enough variety there to give a good impression of whatever it was she decided to make. “So how'd it go?” Suri Polomare loomed over Maud's shoulder. “She loved it, just like you said she would.” “Bravo. I told you that you'd go far if you stuck by me. Say, do you know what you're going to make for your demonstration? I'm already such an expert on fashion and design that I'm sure I can give you a hint or two to improve on your already exquisite design even further.” “Well...” “Yes? Yes?” What kind of dress should Maud make? One that captures the essence of a geode. One that captures the thrill of a landslide.
