Great, Now I'm a Petunia

Are you serious? Are you really freaking serious? A PETUNIA?!?! Of ALL the STUPID costumes I could have worn, I got stuck with a PETUNIA!?!

I suppose I should start at the beginning. That would have been five years ago, when my mom, bless her heart but curse her decision, sewed me a costume for a middle school play on plants. A petunia costume, of course. That was five years ago. I'm a big girl now. But back then I wore the stupid costume, and everypony loved it (except the Cee-Em-Cee, because they were losers then [and still sort of are] ) and Miss Cheerilee said I did a great job, in that kind of annoying voice she uses when she dotes on you, and the whole shebang. Middle school was an awkward time, even for me. I know, hard to believe, right?

Flash forward to yesterday, when I was running around like a chicken with its head cut off looking for a Nightmare Night Costume. No, not to go trick or treating. How old do you think I am, eight? No. All the cool kids were going to this sick party at Twist's house. Goodness, now there's a young mare who's done some maturing. So naturally, being me, I had to wear something amazing. The problem is, life caught up with me. I had been so busy planning all the social manuevering that would be going down that I totes forgot to pick out a costume. Now it was too late: the party was only a few hours away. Davenport had closed his costume annex so he could go trick-or-treating with his kid or something, Rarity was as usual a crazy mess, and there certainly wasn't time to run out to Canterlot. So... I was stuck with this stupid, STUPID petunia costume.

I... the party wasn't actually that bad. Like, ponies gave me some odd looks, but most just accepted that I had construction paper petals on my head. It might help that I am at the top of the pecking order at Ponyville Regional High School. Gosh that's a lame name. But I digress. The party was pretty great. Silver Spoon wasn't there unfortunately; I think she was taking her little sis around gathering candy. Good on her. There were plenty of other ponies to socialize with though. Heck, I even chatted with Sweetie Belle for a few minutes and didn't get a single urge to punch her in the face. My how times have changed.

So all the usual suspects were in play: bobbing for apples, scary story telling, spider toss, the whole shebang. Twist knows how to throw a party, and there were a lot of ponies there, like maybe at least a hundred. Even Princess Luna showed up for like half an hour. I'm not one for royal snobbery (Ugh, Celestia and her precious purple princess student disgust me!), but she's actually pretty cool if you can look past her weird social ticks. I guess all in all the party was going swimmingly.

Until HE appeared.

I have a lot of problems with Discord. I think most ponies do. He's a bully who hides behind Fluttershy whenever he gets called out on something. I think Fluttershy knows this, but there isn't much she can do about it. So anyway, Discord THROWS open

Look, I don't like Applebloom, and I don't think I ever will. We just don't see eye to eye on a lot of stuff, and she's too stubborn to admit it. But what Discord did to her Cuteceañera was crossing the line. No one should ever almost drown in frosting, no matter how much of a dweeb they are.

Are we really that different Diamond, you and I?

"What?!" I yell in my head. "You're a disfigured barely-reformed monster, and I'm an eighteen year-old filly. We're way different bozo.

You manipulate ponies constantly. You spread and control rumors to destroy those you don't like. You plant misinformation like it's going out of style. You are the master of insinuation. You no longer target the CMC, and your methods have changed, but Diamond, you are STILL a bully.

The janitor sees and hears eeeeeverything.

~~~Fifteen Years Later~~~

Discord rolled around on the Palace floor, laughing his eyebrows off, literally. "Oh Tiara, I swear, that story never gets old. You always do such a great job at returning to your snarky brat phase."

I rolled my eyes, blushing a little. "Yes, I was an ass back then. Rub it in please."

Discord got that gleam in his eyes. "Oh, I will rub--"

"NOT literally," I correct instinctually. Being around the king of practical jokes trains your brain in odd ways.

"Oh, you're no fun," Discord huffs, crossing his arms.

"And yet, for some reason you married me," I tease. Oh, ah yes, the punchline to the joke. I turn back to Peachy and Swirls: "Kids, that was how I met your father."