Motherhood, Mayhem and the Mane-iac's Return

Spike polished his claws on his chest as he stood by the post office counter. He had gotten the package notice at home and was there to pick up his new copy of erotic Power Pony goodness. He wasn't the twitchy, sweating mess he had been the last time, as Twilight had proven she would ignore his comic book habits, so he had no need to be worried.

“Here you are, Spike. From... 'Radio Factory Comix', which is spelled with a superfluous 'X'. Did this book even have an editor?” the postal counter clerk asked with a muted English accent. He was an older-than-middle-age pinkish unicorn with a tightly-cropped blue mane. His name tag read 'Candy Floss.'

“It's just a style choice. Makes it look more interesting,” Spike said with a grin, grabbing the package out of the air. “Thanks, man.”

“My pleasure. Ensuring the speedy processing of missives and parcels is the purpose of Princesses' Mail. See you when the next large comic book is published,” Candy Floss said with a smile and nod.

Spike gleefully giggled and hugged the thick package against his chest. He was practically skipping along the road of Ponyville, attracting strange looks and curious whispers, as he had before. But at least they were of a more positive variety, focused on potential romances.

“Twilight! I'm home!” Spike called as he arrived at the library.

“Ah, there you are. Where have you been?” Twilight asked as she came down from the upper part of the tree.

“Just at the post office, picking up another graphic novel. Don't worry, I swear I'm also reading that actual novel you gave me. I even have the quiz answers ready for you,” Spike said smoothly, heading towards the basement.

“That's good. I don't mean to harp on it, but you know how I feel about actual literature. Even Daring Do counts. And that's the very last Daring Do book, so it should be very exciting,” Twilight said, trotting along behind Spike.

“Uh, need something from down there? I can get it for you,” Spike said, with a curious look on his face.

“Oh no, I was going to pick up your quiz papers, check on some of my machines and have a look at your new book,” Twilight casually announced.

“W-wait. Look at the new comic? Why? It's a comic! You said that those weren't real literature. And you love literature,” Spike said, sweat breaking out across his brow.

“I reconsidered your statement and the designation 'graphic novel.' I conducted some informal studies and found there are some reasons to consider the idea that they may in fact be comparable to some of the early block-print-enhanced works like I Modo or even earlier illuminated books. A combination of words and pictures need not be for foals or foalish minds,” Twilight explained, with her usual didactic tone.

“Uh, well, this... this is foalish stuff. It's the Power Ponies. Very foalish stuff. I'll... balance it with the smarter Daring Do book. I promise. I'll get to it right now!” Spike cried, rushing into the basement and picking up his bookmarked copy of Daring Do and the Temple of Life.

“Oh Spike, I know you're at that age where you've found your 'thing' and you want it to be yours but I won't ruin it for you. I know there's a lot of... well, pseudoscience and pseudothaumatology in these books but as well there are complex story lines, interequine interaction, discussions of law and justice, and other things worth reading,” Twilight said with a soft laugh, her magic tugging on the package.

“But... but!” Spike was out of excuses, sweat pouring down his face, claws desperately digging into the package.

“Spike! Now you're just being selfish and that's very dangerous. You need to resist any selfish tendencies. Remember what happens when you act greedy? We don't want you turning into a monster again!” Twilight said firmly, increasing her magic and pulling the package away. “What has gotten into you?”

Spike's color drained slightly and his eyes went wide as Twilight carefully peeled open the large envelope and lifted the book out. “Twilight don't...” He pleaded.

“What is the... matter..?” Twilight asked, her voice trailing away as she saw the cover. The very top blared, Power Ponies: The Erotic Adventures. At the bottom were the words, Motherhood, Mayhem and the Mane-iac's Return. The cover art showed the Power Ponies and Hum Drum looking into cribs, while in the back loomed the shadow of Mane-iac, and two muscular bipedal figures standing behind Saddle Rager and Radiance. Down at the bottom in a small square was a bit of text. 'Warning! Contains Explicit Material. NSFBF. No Suitable For Blank Flanks. “Spike...”

“I swear, I was just curious! I wondered what it was all about! I like the Power ponies so much I didn't even notice that part!” Spike insisted, down on his knees and holding Twilight's right front leg.

“I plan to read this little 'erotic' production,” Twilight said firmly.

“I... what?” Spike went from pleading to utterly confused.

“As... prurient as it clearly appears to be, according to my research any work this large must necessarily contain some form of complex story and characterization. I want to see if this is so. I may need to restrict your comic book allowances...” Twilight said with a threatening tone.

Spike thought back to the original one, a single, madcap, incredibly base, perverse and debauched carnival of fetishes, attempted humiliation and rape. The color drained further from his face as he contemplated his life without comic books. “Are you sure you have to?” He squeaked.

“That you even need to ask me that tells me that I should have done this earlier,” Twilight said sternly. She flipped the phone-book-like thing open to the start and began to read.

Masked Matter-horn looked over a spread-out collection of various papers, her magical aura enveloping a pencil which was jotting down various numbers in boxes, and also holding an abacus whose beads were clattering madly back and forth in time with the furious scribbling.

Zapp came up behind Matter-horn, a quizzical look on her face. Her gaze moved between the complex series of interconnected boxes and numbers, the collection of papers and the clattering abacus. Her face fell from confused to sarcastic. “Really, egghead, really?”

“I can move abacus beads as fast as I push buttons, the calculation time is equal because my number memory extends to seven digits or seven decimal places, and I don't have to worry about clearing the screen each time I make a calculation or accidentally figuring two numbers together that shouldn't be put together,” Matter-horn explained calmly, never ceasing her activity.

“Yeah, that totally makes you sound less like a complete dork,” Zapp said, rolling her eyes. “You look like you're doing taxes for Maretropolis, or counting everypony in town.”

“Maretropolis is a city; it doesn't have an individual tax return, and bookkeeping for a city needs to be done by a small army of accountants, not one. Counting doesn't require a calculating device,” Matter-horn stated rather blandly.

“Wow. Wow,” Zapp said, shaking her head slowly. “You just reached the geek level of sweaty Neighponese costume fan-mare. I never knew you had it in you, egghead.”

“This is important and I intend to take it seriously even if no one else does!” Matter-horn shouted.

“Chillax! It's wedding planning, not rocket surgery!” Zapp shouted back. “I can't believe Mare-velous asked you.”

“She knows intellectual quality and efficiency when she sees it,” Matter-horn said smugly. “She knew I'd find the most cost-effective options without sacrificing quality. That's why I'm so carefully running these matrices to see how I can keep costs and conflicts down and ensure things will happen. I have the error bars for them all, as well as the possibility of failure to deliver. I'm trying to keep the probabilities as low as possible while maximizing the quality on the most efficient budget.”

Zapp had gone glassy-eyed in the middle of the explanation. By the end a small dribble of drool was at the corner of her mouth. She shook her head quickly and groaned. “How do you manage to say so much and not tell me anything? I totally could have planned Mare-velous' wedding better than you! Some chairs, some food from that sub sandwich place down the street, a judge, a bunch of flowers, done!”

“And that's why you're not doing it,” Matter-horn said with a tone of disdain. “Besides, she tapped you to do the bachelorette party. Even if it will be as basic as possible, it won't be an utter failure.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Zapp sneered. “Some stallions in thongs, some booze, done.”

“Radiance had stallions in thongs when Mane-iac captured us,” Matter-horn noted.

“So... no dancers?” Zapp asked.

“No, it's a good idea. Just prepare for her to be too into it,” Matter-horn said with a laugh and shake of her head.

Meanwhile, in a padded room, Mane-iac was plotting her vengeance. She had been moved out of the maximum security prison and into a more appropriate location, The Lovecraft Memorial Asylum for the Magically Overpowered. She still had her tendrils restrained by unobtainium bands, but was allowed more privacy, and didn't have to live in a hard, unforgiving plastic box.

She still resented all that had happened, from her defeat to her impregnation to having to give birth to the curiously cute dragon-pony... that had been acceptable. The rest, however weighed on her fevered mind. She saw her daughter, whom she had named Sassy Soon, in supervised intervals, while she was in foster care. She had been defeated in the middle of her greatest triumph. Even knowing she had gotten the Power Ponies pregnant wasn't as much fun when she got the same treatment.

She erased her plan, pressed into the cloth floor in a coded set of glyphs, and sighed. Nothing was working for her. Every possible plan suffered from the effect of some Power Pony or from the 'unknown factor' of Hum Drum's inadvertent interference. She was much more clear-headed and careful, thanks to the medication they had been giving her. She was less wild and crazed but still wanted her vengeance.

The sound of the cell door opening drew her attention. One of the uniformed guards and two orderlies were there in the doorway. “What? It's not time for therapy, pills or food. What do you want?” Mane-iac asked with a bit of anger in her voice.

“We're taking you to the visitor's area,” the guard said brusquely.

“What's the catch? Sassy's visiting time isn't for another day,” Mane-iac said as she trotted slowly out of the cell.

“Special request, straight from the Governor,” the guard replied, leading the procession along the corridors.

“'Governor'? How did that happen?” Mane-iac asked. When no response was forthcoming she snorted and walked quietly along.

The four ponies finally arrived at a metal door marked with 'Visitor's Area' along with a long list of rules and precautions. Through the door the bare, clinical, white environment turned into a more colorful space. The soft carpet was blue, while the walls were soft pink. There were soft, cloth couches, which were bolted down, as well as cushions spread out across the floor.

Hum Drum had been on one couch. When he saw Mane-iac he leaped up and approached. “H-hey there...”

“You! You....” Mane-iac ground her teeth, looking angry yet surprised. “What are you doing here? And what's this about the Governor? Trying to put me back in the prison nuthatch? Trying to take Sassy from me?!”

“Whoa! Whoa! Calm down!” Hum Drum said, motioning with both hands. “This is all about Sassy. And definitely not about sending you back to prison.”

Mane-iac looked on Hum Drum with a suspicious eye. “What are you talking about?”

“Look... I talked to a lot of folks. I'm a hero, so they listen to me a lot more than they used to. I talked to Foal's Services, I talked to the Department of Rehabilitation, and I even talked to the governor, who finally pulled it all together,” Hum Drum explained.

“Pulled what together?” Mane-iac asked, sounding more surprised that upset.

“If I agree to take responsibility for you, if I can promise that you'll stay in the unobtanium bands, and if I can promise a safe, stable and acceptable environment... Sassy will be allowed out of foster care into both of our care. As long as you pass the Foal's Services and Department of Rehabilitation checks you'll be allowed to stay out of prison, with me,” Hum Drum said, blushing just a touch.

Mane-iac was stricken speechless momentarily. She stared at Hum Drum in disbelief. “You... you have to be kidding me. There's no way that's possible.”

“It's possible. Sign some papers, listen to the details and in a week you and Sassy will be living with me at Power Ponies HQ,” Hum Drum said with an eager, hopeful smile.

Mane-iac thought about it. She would be there, in Power Ponies HQ, able to see all their secrets, to learn more of their weaknesses or their desires. She could do better at her plan, even though she already had some kind of preliminary plan in motion. It would only modify what she had in the nascent stages. “Fine. I'll do it. I don't know what to think of you, but I'll do anything to be with Sassy.”

As Hum Drum squealed in delight Mane-iac dropped a signal to one of the orderlies who responded with a nod. She'd get a message out, and prepare for her new plot.