My Little Trixie: Everytrixie is Trixie

by Obselescence

Rating: everyone
Tags: Comedy, Random, Alternate Universe
Length: 3810

When you're already as perfect as the Great and Powerful Trixie, there's simply no need for anything else.

When you're already as perfect as the Great and Powerful Trixie, there's simply no need for anything else.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-04-21 20:44:03 UTC

Ch. 1: Wicked, Trixie, and False

Chapter 1

Spike was used to being ordered around. Mistreatment was but a basic part of living with a Trixie. Any Trixie, in fact, if not the Great and Powerful one especially. Today he’d been tasked with cleaning up the library that the Great and Powerful Trixie had amassed in her little Trixielot suite, and he had just about finished putting the last book on the topmost shelf when Trixie came barreling in through the door.

“Elements of Harmony!” she roared. “Trixie knows that she has heard of those before!”

Instantly, a dozen books flew off their shelves, followed by a dozen more. Spike was knocked off his ladder in a small avalanche of literature, and was promptly buried by the resulting pile of books.

“No, no, no,” said Trixie, glancing at each book as she pulled them off the shelves. “None of these are it.” Her eyes narrowed and she looked carefully around her suite. “Dragon! Where are you? Trixie has need of your services!”

“Here I am, Trixie,” Spike said, pulling himself out from under a particularly heavy treatise on magic.

Trixie ignored him.

Spike groaned. “Here I am, oh Great and Powerful Trixie.”

“Excellent!” said Trixie. “Trixie requires you to find her a book on the Elements of Harmony.”

“It’s right here,” said Spike, picking a black-bound text off the floor.

“Ah, there it is!” Trixie’s magic quickly pried the book from Spike’s claws and opened it up. “Elements... Elements...” she said, flipping through the pages.

“Thank you,” Spike coughed.

“You’re quite welcome,” said Trixie. “You can go and clean up the library if you’d like to repay me. It’s a pigsty in here.”

Spike sighed, but he knew better than to argue, so he set to work picking up Trixie’s mess while she studied.

“Aha! I’ve found it!” cried Trixie. “Let’s see now... Elements of Harmony: See Mare in the Moon. What good does that do me? Trixie would like to strangle the Trixie who wrote such nonsense!”

“You could just — I dunno — flip to the entry on the Mare in the Moon?” Spike offered.

“Yes, yes,” said Trixie. “Here it is... Mare in the Moon: Myth from ancient times. A particularly powerful Trixie who wished to rule Equestria... Imprisoned in the Moon... Legend has it that on the longest day of the thousandth year, the stars will aid in her escape, and she will bring about nighttime eternal.”

She gasped. “Aha! Dragon, do you know what this means?”

“No,” said Spike as he pushed Trixie the Bearded: A Biography back into its rightful place on the shelf. “And I don’t want to.”

“It means that Trixie has discovered a grave threat to Equestria! The Princess will have to take notice of this, and The Great and Powerful Trixie shall finally get the fame she so rightfully deserves!”

“Right...” said Spike. He didn’t particularly buy into that old legend about the Mare in the Moon, nor the hoopla about her eventual escape. That was the sort of tale only old Trixies told, which made it even less likely to be real than a tale told by younger Trixies.

“Take a letter now, Dragon” said Trixie. “And listen closely.”

“I do have a name, you know,” Spike grumbled. “Spike. Remember?”

“Is that what it was?” said Trixie. She sounded as if she couldn’t have cared less.

“Only since the day you hatched me.”

“You should consider changing it then,” said Trixie. “Lacks flair. Now, Dragon, about that letter?”

“Let’s hear it,” said Spike, defeated. He grabbed a quill and a blank scroll off the desk and held them up. “And please make it short this time.”

“Dearest Princess Trixie,” narrated Trixie. “I, the Great and Powerful Trixie (your most faithful student), have discovered through my exhaustively detailed studies that Equestria is in grave danger.”

“Slow down!” said Spike. “I can only write so fast!”

“For you see,” said Trixie, without slowing down. “The Mare in the Moon is due to return the day after tomorrow. It goes without saying that she will attempt to bring eternal night upon us all unless something is done. I, the Great and Powerful Trixie, recommend that swift action be taken against this danger, and that I be given full recognition for my awe-inspiring discoveries. Please reply at once. Sincerely, the Great and Powerful Trixie (your faithful student).”

She turned and looked at Spike. “Did you get all that?” she asked.

“Uh, yes,” said Spike. In truth, he’d only managed to scrawl out the gist of it, and probably a word or two had been misspelled in the process. He didn’t consider it worth any scales off his hide, though — not as if Trixie ever bothered to check what he wrote.

“Send it.”

With a puff of green fire, Spike sent the letter off to Princess Trixie. He’d briefly considered objecting, on the grounds that the Mare in the Moon obviously didn’t exist, and that the only possible effect of the letter would be wasting Princess Trixie’s time, but Princess Trixie wasn’t all that pleasant either. Inconveniencing her was a good enough justification for sending that letter, even if everything it said was patently baloney.

Trixie, meanwhile, was giggling to herself. Giddy, probably, with the thought that she’d made a great discovery. “Everything is going perfectly,” she said. “Where do you think my trophy would look best, Dragon? Over by the window? Or at the front door, so visitors can pay homage to it?”

“Wouldn’t hold your breath about that,” Spike said, keeping his voice low enough that Trixie wouldn’t hear.

The return letter arrived in short order, and Spike belched it out in another burst of green fire. He tried to get a good angle on Trixie’s face before reading it out loud — she was going to love this. “My dearest and most faithful student, Trixie... It insults me that you thought this news was at all worthy of my valuable time. As recompense for your obvious foolishness, Princess Trixie hereby decrees that you shall travel to Trixieville at once, and manage the preparation for the Summer Sun Celebration. May you think harder next time before bothering me.”

Spike snorted a bit, trying to cover up a giggle, then finished. “With infinite scorn and disappointment, Princess Trixie.”

He couldn’t help but grin as Trixie’s jaw dropped to the ground. Oh, yes, she’d loved that all right.

“That harlot!” screeched Trixie, wind whipping through her mane. “Trying to get rid of me, no doubt, and take all the credit for herself!”

Spike, for his part, was feeling a little sick. “Uh, Great and Powerful Trixie? Would you mind ranting a little less while you’re controlling the chariot?” The flying chariot carrying them toward Trixieville was powered exclusively by Trixie’s magic, so the ride’s smoothness relied entirely on her focus. Spike rather hoped that she’d run out of steam soon and pay attention to her driving. For the sake of his stomach, if nothing else.

“But the Great and Powerful Trixie shall show her,” continued Trixie. “Soon everytrixie will see how right I am! And they will come back to me, begging. Begging, I say!”

The chariot rocked again as she said this. Spike gurgled and did his best to avoid throwing up.

Eventually, the chariot landed in the town of Trixieville.

“Land!” cried Spike as he flopped out onto the ground. He kissed the road. “Sweet land! Oh, how I’ve missed you.”

“The Great and Powerful Trixie will handle these petty preparations because she is forced to,” said Trixie, still going strong. “But when all is said and done, she’ll show them...”

Spike noted that the Trixies of Trixieville paid only the barest hint of attention to their arrival, and even less to the ranting. They all trotted past with that haughty not-my-problem expression that Trixies got when there was nothing of interest nearby. Not particularly surprising. Probably they’d all been through that phase of winding monologues.

“Oh, we’ve arrived,” said Trixie, finished at last with her ranting. “Trixieville, they call this place?” She sniffed the air and looked around. “Seems rustic.”

Trixie stepped off the chariot and right onto Spike’s back. Something cracked and Spike groaned audibly. “Probably full of nothing but country Trixies.”

She stepped off of Spike’s back and trotted around a bit more. “Trixie supposes that she will have to make do,” she said. “Come along, Dragon. There’s work to be done and the Great and Powerful Trixie will dye her coat orange before she does it alone.”

Spike didn’t respond. His ribcage felt a bit too broken to do anything like that.

Trixie sighed. “Very well, then. The Great and Powerful Trixie, in her great generosity, will carry you. But just this once.” She levitated Spike onto her back and trotted off. “To Sweet Apple Acres we go.”

Spike felt a bit better by the time they made it all the way to Sweet Apple Acres. The fresh country air helped tremendously, and the fragrance of ripe apples almost made him forget that his chest was compressed. A big, beautiful farm with plenty of room and wide open spaces and very few Trixies in sight — he wouldn’t have minded living there.

“And Trixie thought that the rest of town was a dump,” said Trixie. “Now, Dragon, we have to check on food preparations, yes?”

“Yes,” said Spike, though it still hurt to talk. His position on Trixie’s bouncing back was not helping matters. “Sweet Apple Acres is — is supposed to be in charge of that.”

“Well, we’ll have to find the caretakers at once,” said Trixie. “And wrap things up quickly.”

That didn’t take long, thankfully. A piercing voice cut through the serenity of Sweet Apple Acres from somewhere off to the left. “Behold!”

Spike turned his head to look, and saw a Trixie with her mane bound up in a pony-tail. Her horn was all aglow as apples in the trees around her were snapped off their stems and levitated neatly into baskets. Obviously the one in charge of things around these parts.

“Good... day to you,” said Trixie, completely failing to hide her disdain. “I am the Great and Powerful Trixie, tasked by the Princess with overseeing preparations for the Summer Sun Celebration. You are handling the, ah, edibles?”

“Oh, hello there,” said the farm Trixie. “The name is Trixiejack — remember that — and yes, I am in charge of the food. You saw Trixiejack's little performance there? How did you like it?”

“Amateur work at best,” said Trixie, sneering. “The Great and Powerful Trixie is simply here to inspect your carnival fare and leave with all due haste.”

Trixiejack looked a bit miffed at the insult, but said nothing about it. “Why don’t you stay and meet the family?” She gave a loud whoop. The ground began to rumble ominously.

With some effort, Spike leaned over and whispered in Trixie’s ear. “We should get out of here. Now.”

“Don’t be silly,” Trixie whispered back. “She wouldn’t dare harm the Great and Powerful Trixie.”

Almost out of nowhere, a huge herd of Trixies rushed up to them. All of them were almost identical, save for a slight difference in the styling of their manes, and each had a plate piled high with food floating in front of them.

“This,” said Trixiejack proudly, “Is the family. Now, if you don’t mind, Trixiejack shall painstakingly introduce you to each one and every one of us.”

“The Great and Powerful Trixie has seen enough,” said Trixie. “Obviously the food is well taken care of. We will be going now.”

“That’s nonsense,” said Trixiejack. The family of Trixies formed a tight circle around them, cutting off all possibility of escape. “Now, here we have Apple Trixie, Red Trixielicious, Golden Trixielicious, Caramel Trixie, Baked Trixie, Trixie Cinnamon Crisp...”

As she spoke each name, member of the family stepped forward and held up their plate of food. It all smelled maddeningly good to Spike, and he could even hear Trixie’s stomach rumbling a bit.

“...Trixiebloom, Big Macintrixie, and, let’s not forget: Granny Trixie.” She pointed to an elderly-looking Trixie who seemed somewhere between living and dead. Trixiejack took a deep breath, clearly exhausted from naming the entirety of her family. “That’s all of us. And, oh, before Trixiejack forgets, none of the food is for you. Hooves off.”

That was immensely disappointing to Spike. And apparently Trixie thought so too. “Insolence,” she growled.

“Ot-nay ile-way ear-way urrounded-say,” whispered Spike, praying she’d listen.

Thankfully, she did.

“Now, if you wouldn’t mind leaving us,” said Trixiejack, with perhaps a hint of smugness, “We’re about to have brunch. Go off and do... whatever it is you Trixielot Trixies do.”

“Of course,” said Trixie, voice dripping with false humility. “Trixie will get out of your way then.”

“The nerve of that Trixiejack,” Trixie muttered once they were out of sight of Sweet Apple Acres. “Brutish farm Trixies.”

“Maybe next time you should avoid insulting them?” Spike suggested.

“And you!” Trixie spat. “You’ve been on Trixie’s back long enough!” She bucked hard and threw Spike off into a nearby pile of hay. “Freeloader.”

Spike staggered to his feet, thanking his lucky stars that he hadn’t landed on anything worse. His chest still felt like a doormat, but otherwise he felt well enough to stand. Just barely.

“So what’s next?” said Trixie. “Trixie simply has to finish this day in time for the Summer Sun Celebration and Nightmare Trixie's return.”

“Should be a Trixie called Rainbow Trixie handling the weather,” said Spike, avoiding comment on the so-called Nightmare Trixie.

Trixie looked up in the sky. It was distinctly covered in fluffy white clouds. “Obviously not a hard worker, this one,” she said.

“Rainbow Trixie resents that remark!” called a voice from a nearby tree. Spike gave it a closer peek and saw a Trixie with her mane dyed in seven different colors lounging on a branch. “She will get around to removing the clouds when she feels like it.”

“The Great and Powerful Trixie demands that you remove them now!” shrieked Trixie.

“Rainbow Trixie does not feel like it,” said Rainbow Trixie. “Go bother sometrixie else.”

Trixie appeared to be on the verge of popping. Her face turned red, her horn began to glow, and all in all, she looked dangerously close to wreaking some terrible vengeance upon Rainbow Trixie.

Spike cleared his throat, wincing at how it felt like another hoofprint on his ribs. “S-sweet Apple A-acres?” he coughed out.

That gave Trixie enough concern to deflate her. “Fine,” she said. “It is not worth the Great and Powerful Trixie’s time to teach that slacker some manners.”

“Wait,” said Spike, “You’re not even going to try? Couldn’t you just ask politely or something?”

“No need,” said Trixie rather huffily. “She’s clearly too lazy to get anything done, and—”

“Your words do not injure Rainbow Trixie at all.” Rainbow Trixie’s voice rang out from the tree. “She already knows you’re uncool. And also a loser!”

"—She can rot in that tree all day for all Trixie cares.”

“A wise decision!” said Rainbow Trixie. “Perhaps that tiny brain of yours will get some sense yet!”

Trixie shrugged. As conversation between Trixies went, that was relatively close to a compliment. “Where to next?” she asked Spike.

Spike decided that he no longer cared about actually completing the list. Obviously none of the Trixies were all that concerned, so why should he be? If they wanted to leave the sky covered in clouds and call it done, well... It wouldn’t be his head on the chopping block.

“Carousel Boutique,” he said, with no enthusiasm whatsoever. “On the other end of town. They’re handling decorations.”

A virtual explosion of fireworks greeted them as they neared Carousel Boutique. Red and green rockets burst in the air around the building, while Catherine wheels whizzed and fizzed closer to the ground. A Trixie with a bright purple mane seemed to be conducting the display.

“Charmed and delighted to meet you both,” she said after they’d walked up and introduced themselves. “Raritrixie is the name. It’s my job to make the Summer Sun Celebration look... festive.”

“It looks pretty great!” said Spike. Fireworks had always captivated him, and the array of combustibles that Raritrixie had set up looked like a positive feast for the eyes. “Fantastic!”

“Adequate.” Trixie yawned.

Raritrixie didn’t seem to have heard that remark. “Beautiful indeed, aren’t they, little dragon?” said Raritrixie. She leaned in toward Spike, giving him a close-up view of her trademark Trixie features. “But not as beautiful as Raritrixie herself, hmm?”

Spike grimaced. “Ew.”

“It seems that everything is well in hoof. We’ll check that off,” said Trixie as a magical sparkler floated past her head. “Carry on then.”

“Oh, but you can’t leave yet!” said Raritrixe. “Raritrixie hasn’t even shown you two the smoke machine yet, or the lasers! Little dragon, wouldn’t you like to see the lasers?” She blushed, then added, “Or more of Raritrixie herself, perhaps?”

“I think I’m going to be sick again.”

“No time for that,” said Trixie, levitating Spike out of the way. “The Great and Powerful Trixie has a very important schedule to keep.”

“Of course,” said Raritrixie. “But do remember to cheer when Raritrixie’s display comes on, won’t you? Raritrixie does so love the attention. And you would you, perhaps, consider purchasing a signed photo by Raritrixie? She is a rising star, you know...”

Spike nodded at Trixie. Trixie nodded back at Spike.

And at the count of three, they ran.

They ran, and they did not look back.

“There’s only one last thing on the list,” said Spike, trying his best to keep up with Trixie’s pace. “Fluttertrixie and the musical accompaniments. You sure you don’t want to—”

“No!” shouted Trixie. “Trixie wants no more part of this weird little town and its weird little Trixies. She must find her quarters, and prepare for the arrival of Nightmare Trixie.”

“Even if the Mare in the Moon really existed, it looks a bit late for that,” said Spike. He pointed a claw toward the horizon. “Sun’s already starting to set.”

Trixie cursed. “Exactly why Trixie must hurry! Quickly. Help Trixie find where this library where she is supposed to stay.”

Spike looked up at the tree in front of them. A small sign with a book on it was hung just outside the door placed squarely in its trunk. “I think we’ve already found it.”

“A tree?” yelled Trixie. “They expect the Great and Powerful Trixie to lodge in a tree?”

“No,” Spike said, mustering all his yet-unused sarcasm. “I was wrong. This is just Fluttertrixie. She’s here to greet you.” Truth be told, he didn’t see what was wrong with staying in a tree. It looked like a nice enough place from the outside.

“Ha, ha,” said Trixie. “Trixie has forgotten to laugh at your boorish and unfunny joke.”

Spike shrugged.

“Come on then,” said Trixie. “You will file a complaint for Trixie once we’re inside.”

The inside of the library-tree was completely dark. Presumably because notrixie had bothered to turn on the lights.

“The Great and Powerful Trixie cannot see,” Trixie complained. “How is she supposed to work in these conditions?”

“I’ll get the light,” said Spike.

“Yes. You will.”

But there was no need for that. Before Spike could do anything, the lights flickered on, a party horn blared, and two dozen Trixies yelled “Surprise!”

“What is this?” screamed Trixie.

A Trixie with a frizzy pink mane came forward and explained. “It’s a party, you simpleton. Isn’t that obvious?”

“Why?”

“Well, dear,” said the pink-maned Trixie. “Trixie Pie saw you arrive in town this morning and she said to herself, ‘You know, this is just the opportunity for a celebration!’”

A few banners were unfurled over the library’s bookshelves. The face on them looked suspiciously similar to Trixie Pie’s.

“In your honor, of course,” said Trixie Pie hastily. “Trixie Pie hopes you don’t mind that she invited everytrixie in Trixieville.”

Whatever Trixie had to say in response to that was drowned out by the music, which sometrixie had magically amped up to double volume. Spike grabbed a glass of punch off the table of party favors and sat himself in just the right position to see Trixie’s futile protests.

“Did anytrixie hear something?” Trixiejack shouted above the music, as Trixie yelled at them all to get out.

“Must’ve been the wind!” shouted Rainbow Trixie.

“Couldn’t have been anyone telling us to stop!” agreed Trixie Pie. “Trixie Pie’s parties are all too amazing for that!”

“Tell me I’m pretty!” Raritrixie declared, surpassing all the other Trixies in volume. “All of you! Go on!”

And so, like most parties involving Trixies, everything degenerated into a match of who could shout the loudest. That was always the breaking point for Spike, at which no inconvenience to Trixie would make a party worthwhile. He put his claws over his ear canals and tried to think happy thoughts until everything calmed down.

Trixie, evidently, was also fed up with the party. “The Great and Powerful Trixie commands all of you to leave!” she thundered, her horn glowing bright with magic. “And so you shall!”

Before any of the Trixies could think up a witty response to that, everytrixie in the room disappeared. Teleported three miles away, Spike guessed. Trixie had done that once when the Traveling Trixie Sisters had showed up at the door and demanded to put on a show.

The jukebox, still playing at outrageous volume, was smashed by a bowling ball that had suddenly winked into existence right above it.

“There,” said Trixie, panting like she’d just run a marathon. “Now Trixie can finally get some peace and quiet.”

Spike wisely avoided comment.

“The Great and Powerful Trixie shall be in her room,” said Trixie as she climbed the library’s staircase. “She will be preparing to combat the threat of Nightmare Trixie. Do not bother her until she comes out.

“Whatever,” Spike muttered.

“Oh, and — what was it? — Spake,” she said.

Spike perked up hopefully. That was the closest she’d come to getting his name right in years. “Yes, oh Great and Powerful Trixie?” he said, barely daring to imagine what she would say to him if she had bothered to remember his name. “What is it?”

“Trixie would just like to tell you... though she knows that this has been a long and trying day for the both of us... she wants to say that...”

“Yes? Yes?”

“You should clean up this mess at once. That party has made this library filthy, and Trixie will not stand for that.”

She walked into her room and slammed the door shut behind her, leaving Spike alone to scoop up the confetti.