A botched evening… well quite.
The door opened and Ali Corn stepped in. He took his grey mantle off, and hung it on the coat stand. He then checked his horn and his folded wings, and, satisfied, called out: “Hi Darling! I’m home! Where are you?”
“In the kitchen whipping up a couscous!” answered a high-pitched voice. A waft of boiling veggies tickled Ali Corn’s nose.
Ali Corn looked around. “Where are the kids?” he asked.
“Not home yet. I suppose they’ll be back in a few minutes. They had a long day.”
Ali Corn grunted, then shuffled to the table; he picked up the daily edition of the Canterlot Grapevine and flumped on to a pillow. His eyes fell on the splash: Equestria’s bit plummeted 30% as rumours speak of an empty treasury. Sweet Celestia, will we ever live on the brink of disaster? He noticed suddenly that his horn was drooping. Grouching, he gripped it and tried to straighten its end – in vain. Disgruntled, he fumbled to pick the thin rubber loop that held the horn in place on his forehead, and slipped the horn out. To Tartarus with those adornments; I don’t have to keep them at home, do I? He shook his flanks until the pair of wings detached and dropped. Better off without them. Relieved, he focussed back on his newspaper.
Somepony knocked at the door.
Ali Corn sighed. Can’t we be quiet, not even for a short while? He rose. “I’ll get it!” he shouted and shambled to the door. He opened it and faced Princess Celestia.
“At last!” he exclaimed.
He hinged the door wide, grinned and bobbed in obeisance. Silently, the alicorn entered the room, halted in the middle of it and spun round, while Ali Corn swiftly closed the door.
“You’re tardy,” Ali Corn said, turning to face the princess. “It’s 7:15. I told you this morning no later than 7 pm. My patience has limits.”
“I can’t light the horn any more,” replied Celestia, deadpan. “That’s no fun.”
“Crap! The bulb must have blown up once again. Sweet you, even the hardware gets flaky now! Wait.” Ali Corn walked off into an adjacent cubicle. He came back with a spanner.
“Lower the head,” he commanded. The princess bowed. “I’m going to unscrew the horn and have a look.” He adjusted the spanner around the horn and began to twirl it; it spun reluctantly, with a grating sound. After a few turns, it went loose. Ali Corn put it on the table, then peered inside the hole. “Spot on! We’ll have to change the bulb. Problem is, I’m not sure to have another spare.” He walked back a few steps. “Why don’t you switch her off and come out?”
A clang resounded as the princess took a rigid pose. A small trap opened in her right flank, discolsing a cramped cubicle where a foal was sitting amidst scads of levers, switches and a microphone. “Dad, could you bring in a stool, please?” asked the filly. “This is a bit too high for me to jump.”
“Momentarily,” answered Ali Corn. He trotted lazily into the kitchen, and came back with a rickety wooden stool that he put below the trap. The foal hopped down on to it, then on to the ground. “Thanks!” she exclaimed.
“Still enjoying playing the princess while she’s away, aren’t you?” asked Ali Corn.
“Sure!” responded the filly. “It’s a whopper!”
“Where is your sister, by the way? Weren’t you supposed to come home together?”
“Stuck with Hoity-Toity, I suppose.” She sniggered. “And his brainless nitwit of a wife, you know, that showboat of…” She was cut off by a mounting fracas in the corridor, as of many hooves coming nearer and nearer. “What’s that?” she asked.
“I’ve no idea,” replied her father, perplexed. The clopping rose in volume.
Somepony banged at the door.
Ali Corn sighed, lumbered to the door and opened it. On the other side stood a grey stallion with a shaggy mane. Behind him, cramming the corridor, a seething passel of other variegated ponies. They champ at our bits!; Give us back our jobs!; The nobility are greater thieves than us! proclaimed the placards they were holding.
“Who are you?” growled Ali Corn. “QUIET PLEASE!” he bawled at the mob; the noise subsided a tad.
“Abu Hassan,” responded the ragged pony. “And these,” he made a gesture which took in the rumbustious crowd, “are the forty thieves”.
“Hum,” pondered Ali Corn. “Aren’t you supposed to be burgling the royal reserve right now?”
“We should, but it's empty,” explained Abu Hassan. “That’s why we improvised this demonstration. You’re in charge of the treasury, no?”
Ali Corn facehoofed. “I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I can’t be of any help. Celestia is away with her sister on a business trip until the day after tomorrow. Come back in the morning, we’ll figure out a stopgap measure. Good night!” He slammed the door shut. By Equestria, when will we get rid of those jerks? Catcalls and hoots erupted behind the door.
“What was it?” asked Ali Corn’s wife in the kitchen.
“Nothing!” he yelled in response. “Just the usual rabble piddling around. Carry on with your couscous.”
In the corridor, the din abated, receded and soon silence came back.
“Dad,” said the filly, “can I go to my room and study Celestia’s diary for tomorrow? I’d like to know whom I am supposed to meet.”
“Sure sweetie. I will call you when dinner is ready.”
The filly trotted across the room to a wooden stairway, ascended it and vanished into the upper storey.
Phew! thought Ali Corn. Peace at last! He glanced at his newspaper, forlorn on the floor, and at the motionless mechanical Celestia with its missing horn.
Somepony knocked at the door.
This time, Ali Corn stomped angrily to the entrance. Flinging the door open, he snapped “CAN’T YOU LEAVE—!”. He broke off, put his hoof over his mouth and bobbed. Celestia, followed by Luna, entered the room in turn. The white alicorn, sulky, stopped after a few steps. She examined her artificial doppelgänger. “What’s this mess? Where is the horn?” she snarled.
“I’m sorry your highness, the bulb blew another time. I… I was getting ready to fetch another one into the hardware stores—”
“That won’t be necessary,” interrupted Celestia. “We’re back.”
“But,” said Ali Corn, “wasn’t your stay in Manehaco scheduled to last until the day after tomorrow?”
“Blame her!” answered Celestia, cocking her head toward her sister.
“Oh come on!” said Luna. “It was your idea to bring along Nightmare Moon with us.”
“It’s not my fault if your other self cannot mind her Ps and Qs,” Celestia snapped.
“What happened?” asked Ali Corn.
“Yesternight we went to the casino ‘to have fun’,” answered Celestia. “Nightmare Moon – she was already buzzed after a few bottles of brandy – decided to play roulette. She lost, had a falling-out with the croupier and then nearly razed the whole building. I teleported everypony into safety in the nick of time. Of course, I had to apologise and decided we’d shorten the visit. Now, I’ll have to spend what’s left of the treasury to cover the damage.” She glowered at her sister.
The headline of the newspaper flashed into Ali Corn’s mind. Oh shit!. He sighed. The rumours were true after all.
“You don’t have the gall to accuse me of impoverishing the kingdom, do you?” protested Luna. “What about the extravagant electricity bill we receive every month, just to warm up and light your precious flying furnace? Why, according to you, did the Equestrian Electricity Company build a third power plant almost down town? And then who has to deal with the fallout, those brainless hipsters that will riot down to the throne room because of that purported greenhouse effect?” She paced the room angrily. “Who nearly blew up the fuses because she decided to push the power to the limits after some silly peasants came to complain about the chilly spring? At least, the Moon is green!”
Celestia looked stolidly at Luna. “Green?” she sniggered. “Watch yourself in a mirror. You’re not green, you’re blue. Maybe you’re right: blue and yellow, that’s green, no?”
“Very funny. At least I have a color, not a stupid white coat. You know why you’re white? That’s because you’re so off-color…”
“Your highnesses,” Ali Corn butted in, “this may not be the best place to—”
”SHHHHHH…”
The image on the TV set distorted and faded away. Ali Corn and the princesses dissolved into a sea of flitting white blotches.
“NOOOO!” the Cutie Mark Crusaders shouted in unison.
“F…humpf this wonky TV set!” Spike swore, fumbling for the remote control.
“What happened?” Twilight asked. “Did Ponyville’s TV relay fail?”
Spike muted the sizzling noise. “No, this started to happen every now and then right after Rainbow Dash landed on the aerial the other day.”
“Can you fix it?”
“I’ll try,” replied Spike, and he started punching several keys on the remote. “No guarantee, though.”
Twilight turned her head back to face the other princesses: they all lay on the floor of the library, each one at the vertex of a perfect square. “So,” she said, getting hold of a deck of cards. “Back to business. Bridge tonight?”
“What’s the prize for the winner?” Cadence asked.
“What about my old book on the Paleopony’s card games?” Twilight proposed.
“Are you kidding? And why not my personal autographed copy of The hitchhiker’s guide to the millenium on the Moon?” Luna grouched.
Twilight squiggled, ever-so-slightly.
“Strip poker!” Luna chirped.
The other princesses’s eyes popped out. “What’s that?” Celestia asked.
“A game Lyra told me about. After each round, the looser has to take off one item of clothing. It ends when somepony is totally naked. Sounds fun, no?”
“Uh, beg pardon Rarity, but, uh… we don’t normally wear clothes!” said Applejack’s voice behind Twilight. The princesses spun their head toward the TV set. “I'm sorry, Spike. Some of us do have standards,” the voice of Rarity carried on.
”Oops!” said Spike. “I’m afraid I switched the sound back on. At least Ponyhub network works fine.”
Twilight facehoofed. “Don’t tell me they’re rerunning this episode again!” she sighed. “It’s so ancient and ridiculous.”
We're gonna be a mite busy. The TV rambled on.
“Hah!” guffawed Cadence. “Yeeha! Ah say to y’all! Did she really have that accent back then?”
The three other princesses nodded.
“When did she lose it?”
“The day she eventually started dating Rarity,” explained Twilight. “Rarity could not bear it for long: she got bored of her lover being called ‘a rube’ by her Manehattan’s friends.”
“Love can make miracles,” commented Cadence with a grin.
“Oh come on!” said Luna. “You know what’s wrong with you, my big raspberry? The schmaltzy clichés.”
I can't believe we're finally here. With all that we've imagined, the reality of this night is sure to make this... The Best Night Ever!…
“Best night ever my a—” growled Twilight.
“Shush!” Celestia interrupted. “The kids!… At least the shooting was fun!”
“Sure,” said Twilight. “Sometimes I think I can still feel the hoofshake of that churl of Orion. It took my leg two weeks in a cast to recover.” “But that was the best night ever!” she added in a sneering tone.
“Look at the bright side!” continued Celestia. “Rainbow Dash trying to juggle with the fake statues to the ashen face of the director. Everypony making a roar with the drums and cymbals during the shooting of the Pony Pokey to keep all the birds from alighting on Fluttershy. The gaffer and his assistants pigging on Applejack’s cobblers while she was busy in the make-up van. Rarity cooing with Blueblood…”
“Not sure it sums it all up,” replied Twilight. “The set full of unruly extras, the stupid choreography of ‘The best night ever’ we had to rehearse twenty times… Only the beginning of ‘Princess Twilight’s kingdom’ was worse.”
“Why’s that?” asked Luna.
“Flight acrobatics are not my cup of tea,” Twilight said.
“Didn’t you score a grand slam on the flight simulator?” wondered Celestia.
“I tweaked the code,” confessed Twilight sheepishly. “Sorry. You won’t hold me a grudge for such a fib?”
“Haha!” tittered Celestia. “No worries. At least this was the real stuff. I’ve heard the fifth season will be almost all shot using green screen and then later extensively edited during the post-production phase. No more complex sets.”
“Pathetic!” said Twilight. “If it weren’t to keep the wolf from the door, I think I’d resign from the cast.”
“Budget cuts…” sighed Celestia.
I will find him
My Prince Charming
And how gallant he will be
He will treat me like a lady
Tonight at the Gala!
“ENOUGH!” Twilight yelled. “Hand me that remote control over!”
Spike gave the device to Twilight.
“Let’s see what’s on the EBC,” she said, punching a number on the keyboard.
The face of Chrysalis appeared on the screen.
“Crickey! What’s that?” wondered Twilight. “I didn’t ask for Channel hive.”
During the day, the drones wander away in search of food to bring back at dusk to the colony to nourish the larvae and the queen. They are constantly in contact using a telepathic link, so that when one discovers a windfall, all the other ones are immediately warned. This way…
“Must be some sort of documentary,” said Twilight. “Perfect! At least you’ll learn something.”
“NOOOO!” protested the Cutie Mark Crusaders. “Please Twilight, this sounds like a drag,” Scootaloo bleated.
“You’re never satisfied,” grouched Twilight. She switched the TV off. “Why don’t you go into Spike’s room and play some game?”
“Okay…” sighed the three fillies, ears flopped. They stood up, shuffled slowly across the room and went up the stairs.
“Good!” nodded Twilight once the Crusaders had disappeared above. “So, back to poker. But the prize?”
“Shining Armour will be the winner’s lover for one night,” proposed Cadence.
“What?!” blurted Twilight. “Are you kidding?”
“Pfff… He is such a bore in bed. Sometimes I wonder if he knows more than one posture…” said Cadence glumly.
“What’s up?” asked the voice of Shining Armour somewhere in the kitchen.
“Nothing, darling!” yelled Cadence.
“Mind your couscous!” added Twilight.
“Love can make miracles,” Luna sneered.
A hush fell. “Well,” said Twilight lowering her head, “it can’t be worse than with Blueblood…”
“WHAT?” exclaimed the three other princesses at the same time. “You… you… err… did that with Blueblood!?” stuttered Celestia in shock. “I can’t believe it!”
“It was a night of excruciating solitude…” said Twilight apologetically.
“And?” asked Luna guffawing. “Details! Details!”
“It was the worst night ever. I should have cast a spell on myself to forget it, but I–”
Somepony knocked at the door.
“Who can it be at such an hour?” wondered Twilight (relieved not to have to elaborate further) as she trotted to the door. She opened it.
On the threshold stood the menacing shape of Sombra.
“Iiik!” squealed Cadence. She stood up precipitatedly and galloped to the entrance. “Honey!” she whispered to the black unicorn, “I told you never to show up when Shiny was around! He might suss something…”
“I’m sorry Caddy,” replied Sombra. “Emergency case. I tried to phone you, but your mobile is off. The main power has failed two hours ago. The cooling system is not operational any more. The castle has begun to melt, and the heat spreads rapidly around.”
“Shhhhit!” Cadence winced. “Damage report?”
“Deck 2 and 5 are slightly disturbed. All other decks still fully operational. Sickbay has reported minor injuries. Nothing serious, but it could worsen quickly. Hopefully, we should have auxiliary power available in a moment,” declared Sombra.
“We’ll have to beam up right now,” said Cadence. “Thanks so much. Get back to the bridge, Sombra,” she ordered. “We’re on our way. Meanwhile, you’ve the con.”
“Aye, aye!” replied Sombra, and he disappeared in a flash.
Cadence whirled around. She took a leash from the coat stand and whistled loudly. “Sugar! Sugar!” she cried.
Galloping out of the kitchen, Shining Armour clipped across the library’s main room. He skidded to a halt right in front of Cadence. Panting, he drew his tongue out. “Woof!” he bayed.
“Isn’t he a good boy?” said Cadence to Twilight. Turning back to Shining Armour: “Shiny, emergency at the castle. We must leave on the double.”
“Woof!” answered Shining Armour.
“Bye bye Twilight! Sorry to get away so early…” She waved goodbye to the other princesses. “Necessity calls.”
“Don’t worry!” said Twilight. “See you next week!”
Cadence fastened the leash to Shining Armour’s collar. They stepped off into the night and teleported away.
Twilight watched the obscurity an instant more. She sighed, turned around and closed the door.
“Isn’t that convenient to have such a clever watchdog at home?” sniggered Luna.
“We’ve got guards anywhere in the castle,” observed Celestia.
“You don’t call them ‘sugar’ and they don’t bark when you summon them,” retorted Luna.
“But you don’t have to walk them out each time they need to piddle,” concluded Celestia.
Twilight lay down again. “So,” she said, “what are we going to play now? Pin the tail on the pony?”
“Come on!” protested Luna. “Do I look like a pink hoofed sausage topped by tons of candyfloss?”
“Why not tarot?” proposed Celestia. “It can be played from three to five players.”
“It’s a bit boring with three players,” said Twilight, “you’ve got a whole bunch of cards to pick from. Much more enjoyable with five.”
“Do you want us to replicate ourselves?” asked Luna.
“Hmmm…” replied Twilight, “I don’t think that will be necess–”
Somepony knocked at the door.
Twilight’s jaw snapped shut. Resigned, she stood up once more, and trudged to the door. She wearily turned the handle and pulled it.
Derpy was standing on the threshold.
“I have an urgent telegram for princess Celestia,” she said, rummaging in her bag. “I was told I could find her here.”
“Correct!” replied Celestia. She rose and paced to the door. Derpy bobbed a curtsy, handed her a small envelope, turned around and took off.
Celestia tore the upper side of the envelope, drew out a small paper that she read. Her face crumpled.
“What is it?” asked Twilight puzzled.
“The weather office reports an intense shower of muffins on Canterlot,” explained Celestia. “I –”
“Uh?” exclaimed the voice of Derpy far away. There was a loud thump, muffled by the distance. “Ouch!” cried the same voice. Another muffled thud resounded. Twilight rolled her eyes.
“I suppose an old friend of ours took the opportunity of our absence to play some silly trick,” said Celestia. “Luna! I need you to restore order!”
The blue alicorn stood up in turn and walked to the door. “Sorry Twilight,” she apologised. “Destiny seems to be against us tonight.”
“Bah,” shrugged Twilight, “we’ll do better next time!”
“That won’t be difficult,” tittered Celestia. Both princesses hugged Twilight, then flew off.
Twilight mused for a while on the threshold, then whirled around. “Girls!” she yelled.
“Yes Twilight?” responded the voice of Sweetie Belle.
“It’s late, everypony’s gone home,” continued Twilight. “You should, too!”
“Okay Twilight!” The three fillies walked down the stairs across the room; they stopped by Twilight’s side. Smiling, the alicorn bowed to peck each one of them. “Goodbye girls. Are you sure you don’t want me to accompany you?”
“No thanks,” said Apple Bloom, “we’ll manage. We ain’t babies any more. Good night Twilight. Thanks for the evening!”
“It wasn’t much of a success, was it?” giggled Twilight.
“It doesn’t matter,” grinned Apple Bloom. “We had fun anyway.”
“You’re adorable,” said Twilight. “Go now! Goodbye!”
“Goodbye Twilight!” answered the three fillies together. And they disappeared into the gloom.
Twilight turned around and paced around the room, gathering some crumbs scattered here and there, arranging the cushions and blowing the candles out one after the other.
It could have been worse, she reflected. Trixie might have shown up, for example.
Somepony knocked at the door.
Twilight froze. “PISS OFF!” she bawled. “IT’S CLOSED! NOPONY LIVES HERE ANY MORE! GO TO TARTARUS AND STAY THERE FOREVER!”
Gruffly, she snuffed the last candle out and went to bed.
