"More than ten times as much . . . . "
It was not a sunny day in Ponyville. The usually-bright sun had been assaulted and overrun by a layer of thick, dark clouds in a matter of hours, a cacophony of rain tipped and tapped at the roofs and the windows of the humble town's homes, and a breeze disturbed the trees and the grass.
And inside one particular house, the town's only tree-home-library hybrid, Twilight Sparkle was feeling a feeling that she had never felt before, and one that she certainly hoped to never stumble upon again.
She was hating a book.
Not because the writing was bad, or the author was incompetent, not even because the binding was low-quality. No, it was because this book sported a mathematical problem that she could not solve, for the life of her, Spike, or anyone in Equestria. It was an issue that she had never ran into before, and, to say the least, it was irking her. Very much so.
At this point, however, she had managed to restrain her growling and stay her tooth-grinding, and was focusing intently on the equation before her. She knew about the answers in the back, every pony who ever went to school did, but she refused to find it. The temptation, however, was gnawing at her mind and whispering in her ears like some hideous, demented demon from the deepest depths of Tartarus. No, not Tartarus, from the deepest reaches the cosmos, of reality itself . . . .
Twilight's ear twitched. Then she quickly closed the book and scooted away from it, her eyes wide with fright as she regarded the thick tome.
"Oookay, time for a break," she said, disturbed at the things that her mind had conjured out of pure frustration. She shivered and left her sanctuary, traveling down the stairs, through the library, and into the kitchen. Coffee. That was what she needed. Caffeine always fixed, and fixes things. It had helped her solve problems in the past, mathematical, scientific, social, and financial, and it would help her solve this one.
Twilight excavated the kitchen's treasures, plundering all of the right materials to brew her life's favorite beverage, and soon she had herself a massive, steaming pot. She emptied some of it into her "World's Best Student" mug and went to take it upstairs. Then she froze, in mid-step. She lowered her hoof and stared down at the steaming elixir, through the veil of her magical aura. Then she approached the sink and promptly dumped the mug's contents into the sink.
Twilight was shocked at herself. First she felt angst toward and book, and now she's dumping coffee down the sink??
Normally, her answer would have been caffeine, but . . . .
"Oh no," Twilight said, aghast. "What can I do?"
Twilight only shook her head, and with heavy eyes and a heavy heart, she trotted out of the kitchen and back upstairs. Almost, anyway.
When her hoof fell upon the first step, there was a knock at the door.
Rather than feeling excitement, which she normally would, she felt a spike of annoyance. She had just been about to give up and retire to bed. She probably should have flipped the sign, though . . . .
The knocking sounded again, three of them, all heavy. Twilight smiled to herself, recognizing the knocking.
He hasn't visited for a while . . . .
Her bubble of irritation popped, Twilight spun around and happily skipped down the stairs and across the room. She enveloped the door with her magic and pulled it open, revealing a majestic and slightly intimidating sight.
"Come in, Tiberius!"
The tall and dark figure stepped over the threshold and ducked, swinging his hatted head under the door and standing up straight again.
"I love the rain," he said curtly.
Twilight smiled and answered, saying: "I do, too. At least the sound of it."
The human only grunted in response and stretched.
"Can I take your coat?" Twilight asked helpfully.
Tiberius eyed her and said, "No thank you. As a matter of fact, I was looking for some empty scrolls. You have any extra?"
Twilight frowned in thought and eventually said, "Yes, I do. Sit tight and I'll be back to you."
Tiberius grunted and sat upon the one and only human-sized chair in the entire library. Ever since his arrival, most ponies have at least one in their home, in case he ever came.
As Twilight went off, she passed a recently-awoken Spike down the stairs. The baby dragon yawned and stumbled downwards and reached the floor.
"Are you alive?"
Spike jolted, startled, and Tiberius chuckled.
"Oh, it's you. Uh, no, not yet," Spike said as he approached Tiberius's chair.
Tiberius absentmindedly stroked his long whiskers, eyes thoughtful.
"What's on your mind?" Spike asked.
"I don't know. Nothing. Just kind of gloomy, today."
"I hear ya. Twilight is always drinking coffee on these types of days. All day. I'm surprised she didn't have one as she went upstairs."
"Actually, I think I saw her dumping a mug into the sink through the window."
Spike, again, jolted. He was wide awake now, and he gasped at Tiberius's words.
"What, really?"
"Uh, yeah."
Spike whistled and slowly shook his head. He sat silent for a few moments as Tiberius frowned.
"Is that . . . odd?"
"Well, yeah. That's like you dumping out a can of your Mountain Dew down the sink or something."
It was Tiberius's turn to jolt. "I would never do that!"
"Exactly."
Tiberius pursed his lips in thought, but before the two could converse any further, Twilight reappeared, carrying a large stack of blank paper and rolled up scrolls in her magic.
Spike's wide eyes trailed her all the way down.
"'Twi," he said, genuine concern in his voice, "What's going on?"
"What do you mean?" Twilight asked, her brow furrowing.
"Tiberius here says you, uh, well, you. . .dumped some coffee down the sink."
Twilight's eyes widened and she took a step back. She and Spike stared into one another's eyes, Tiberius with a faintly amused look on his face, until Twilight finally relented.
She signed dejectedly and placed the papers onto the floor. She stared down and mumbled an explanation. She, apparently, was just "tired of coffee."
Spike about had an aneurism and asked why. Twilight remained silent.
Tiberius was smiling all-out by now and spoke up: "You know, uh, I have some caffeinated stuff that's not coffee."
Twilight waved a hoof at him. "I know, I don't like Mountain Dew, remember?'
Tiberius flinched. He would never get over that day. Such a waste.
"No, uh, I have other things. With more caffeine."
Twilight's ears perked, and Spike looked interested as well.
"Let me see you coffee," Tiberius said, Twilight levitated the bag over and Tiberius snatched it from the air. He turned it over and began reading the back. Soon, he let out a laugh.
"Ten milligrams? Ten??"
"What?" Twilight asked defensively. "That's a lot."
Tiberius laughed harder, slapping his knee and doubling over.
"Ten. Ten is a lot."
"Well . . . yeah," Twilight said, embarrassed.
"This drink of mine, it has about one-hundred and fifty."
Twilight's eyes widened in fright and she scooted away from Tiberius, showing real fear.
"That . . . that's impossible."
"It's also impossible for someone not to like Mountain Dew."
Twilight only shook her head in amazement, much like Spike had earlier.
"I just . . . I don't know. What if I overdose or something?"
"Then you will have honorable death," Tiberius said in an accent. "Here," he said, reaching into his trench coat, "I have one right here. Don't worry; it's a small can."
Twilight eyed the can from afar.
"Red . . . Bull?"
"Indeed, child. Drink it. Drink it now," Tiberius suddenly tossed it and Twilight flinched, but caught it in her magic.
"Good, good, now open it."
Twilight hesitantly lifted the tab. She winced as it hissed.
"Now put your mouth to the opening and swallow."
Twilight complied.
