It all started with an open window. It was the first warm night in a long time, and Bon Bon thought it would be nice if we slept with the window open. And I thought it was a good idea, too. Our bedroom is on the top floor of the house, and it can get pretty stuffy up there. It was wonderful, at first. I don't usually get to snuggle up with Bon Bon when we go to sleep because it gets too warm and I start to sweat like a pig, but with a nice cool breeze flowing through the room we could cuddle as much as we wanted. I know she loves curling up together like that, and I've always felt bad that we don't get to do it often because of my inability to sleep. But tonight, it was beautiful. I could feel the warmth of her body pressing against mine, and the cool night air on my back. Perfect.
At least, for a few hours.
At around, let's say maybe a quarter past midnight, something went horribly wrong. A rogue gust of wind must have carried an entire garden's worth of pollen into the bedroom. Whatever it was, it set off my allergies like no tomorrow. I woke up with my face buried in Bon Bon's mane. My nose was completely stuffed, my eyes were so itchy that I could hardly see, and my throat felt like I had swallowed a cup of dusty sand. I could feel a cough, no, a whole coughing fit, preparing itself. I bit my lip to keep it in, but it was a lost cause. I ended up hacking so hard into Bon Bon's mane that my back started to hurt.
“Lyra, are you alright?” Bon Bon extricated herself from the cuddle and awkwardly turned herself around. She was obviously trying to sound concerned, but I could tell that she was still half asleep and didn't really have any intention of waking the rest of the way up.
“I'm fine.” The fact that my voice sounded kinda zombie-like made it pretty obvious that I wasn't.
“Are you sure? You sound terrible?”
“I just need a drink,” I croaked. I picked up the glass of water that I always kept on the nightstand. Bon Bon shielded her eyes from the glow of my telekinesis by shoving her face under the blanket. I could tell by the sound of her breathing that she was already asleep again. I brought the glass to my mouth, intent on chugging the whole thing. Anything to soothe my throat. Turns out that wasn't the brightest idea. The glass was fuller than I had expected, and half the water went around my mouth rather than into it. Both my coat and my side of the bed now sported massive wet patches. And my throat didn't feel any better.
I crawled out of the bed, trying not to disturb Bon Bon any more. Just had to grab a towel from the bathroom and clean up my mess. I made it two steps before stubbing my hoof on the nightstand. There was a clonk in the darkness. Apparently I had put the cup too close to the edge and it was now on the floor. I sighed and crouched down, feeling around for it. Ah, there it was. It had rolled under the nightstand. I reached under with my hoof to roll it out (I didn’t want to bother Bon Bon with the glow of my telekinesis). I bobbled it, and I could tell from the sound that it was rolling under the bed. Horseapples. Forget it, I'll get it out of there tomorrow.
As I started to stand up, the tip of my horn caught the edge of the nightstand. At least it wasn't my head, I thought. That would've hurt. Then the lamp tottered over the edge and landed on the back of my head. The world exploded into stars for a moment. Stupid lamp. We never even use it. What the hay did we even have it on the nightstand for?
“What happened?” Bon Bon poked her head out from under the sheet. “Are you okay?
“Nothing. I just bumped the lamp. I'm fine.” I wasn't, obviously. Now in addition to the sore throat, the entire rest of my head ached. “Go back to sleep.” She ducked back under the covers as I put the lamp back on the table. She's really sensitive to bright lights while she's trying to sleep. I flopped back into bed with a groan. It squelched loudly.
Oh, right. I spilled water on the bed. Oh buck it, I thought. It's not that wet. I can just sleep on it. And I almost did, until I started coughing again five minutes later. I lay in bed for another half hour or so. Well, not really; it was more constant squirming in a futile effort to find a comfortable position. I never found one. I tried to think of something else. Anything else. Music maybe. I tried to think of my favorite songs. Unfortunately, my brain had something else in mind. I could practically hear a melody and lyrics.
“Look, here, are three little ponies
Ready to sing for this crowd...”
Oh hay no...
“Listen up, 'cause here's our story
I'm gonna sing it-”
Of all the songs I'd ever heard, why oh why did it have to be that?
“Very LOOOOOUUUUUD!”
I could practically hear the volume increase. Fortunately the coughing drowned it out. It was hopeless. Bon Bon shifted herself to compensate for my movement. She was curled up on the far side of the bed, as far away from all my shaking and noise as she could go. I felt like crap, in more ways than one. If I couldn't sleep, there was no reason to keep her up. She was on the planning committee for Princess Celestia's imminent visit, taking care of the desserts. She needed the sleep more than I did.
I slipped out of bed, taking care not to stub my hoof on the nightstand again. This time, I stubbed my hoof (the same one, naturally) on the doorframe. At the very least, I made it down the stairs without incident. I could sleep on the couch. The stuffed nose, throat, coughing, and headache were all aggravating enough that the weird lump in the middle of the sofa probably wouldn't matter much.
But first I needed another drink. My throat still felt like I had swallowed a hooffull of crushed glass. As soon as I reached the bottom of the stairs I turned the light on. No more hoof-stubbing. I snatched a glass off the counter; it was probably dirty, but I didn't care. I assumed that if I opened a cupboard the whole thing would fall on my head or something. I opened the fridge, and immediately regretted it. Whatever it was we were storing in there had the amazing ability to go bad really quickly. Apparently the magic circuit that kept it cold had worn out. I'm pretty sure that a greenish-gray miasma poured out of the fridge, formed a hoof, and punched me right in the face.
I snatched the pitcher and slammed the door shut. With luck it would still be a little cold. I have no clue what caused that stench (the smell itself was somewhere between rotting cheese, sauerkraut, and pure death), but getting rid of it could wait til the morning. I poured myself a cup of water and took a slow swig. I immediately noticed two things. First, the water was the worst kind of lukewarm. Second, the cup I had grabbed was Bon Bon's coffee cup, and there was still a half inch of the stuff at the bottom. Yuck. I dumped the cup and went to the cupboard.
My initial assumption of what would happen when I opened it had been correct.
After I put all the cups back in the cupboard (thank Celestia none of them were glass), I settled for chugging down some slightly-cooler-than-lukewarm tap water. I sauntered back to the couch (stubbing my hoof in the process, of course) and fell onto it. I closed my eyes and took in the silence.
“When you're a younger pony
And your flank is very bare-”
Oh, not this again. I shoved my forehooves into my ears and buried my face into the cushion.
“Feels like the sun will never come
When your cutie mark's not there!”
I have no idea why I thought that it would help at all, given that the whole thing was inside my head. The next hour or so was like that. When the music wasn't assaulting my brain, the headache was pounding. When it wasn't the headache, it was the sore throat. When that started to fade, I started coughing. When I wasn't coughing, well...
“So the three of us will fight the fight
There is nothing that we fear
We'll have to figure out what we'll do next
Till our cutie marks are heeeeeeeeeeere!”
I wanted to scream, and probably would have if not for the fact that my throat was on fire. And throughout the whole miserable experience, that weird lump in the middle of the couch stabbed me right in the back. It seemed to get sharper with each passing moment. But even so, after a massive amount of squirming and rolling around, I finally managed to get into a position that vaguely resembled something comfortable. The headache had subsided into a dull ache rather than a pulsating one, my left nostril was finally unclogged, and as long as didn't breathe too hard, I didn't cough. And as long as I didn't cough, I could ignore my throat. For the first time that night, I started to doze off.
Then I shifted a bit, and suddenly became aware of the excessive amounts of water sloshing around in my stomach. Even worse, I became aware of the fact that I really really needed to use the bathroom. I have no idea how I hadn't noticed it earlier. I tried to ignore it; maybe I'd fall asleep before the situation became critical. Unfortunately, the situation was already critical. I managed to lay there for about fifteen seconds before I had to hoof it to the bathroom.
Now, for this next incident, you have to understand that the toilet I intended to use is designed for bipedal creatures such as minotaurs and certain breeds of dog, not ponies. It really is a bit impractical, but it was far cheaper than the regular kind; the proprietor had been trying to unload the thing for weeks and was willing to give it to me for a fraction of the cost of a normal toilet. Needless to say, Bon Bon was. . . less than happy about the toilet. It did take some getting used to, for both of us. I have to admit that I adjusted better than she did, and the toilet had never really caused me any real trouble. Until now.
In my haste, I inadvertently raised not only the lid of the toilet, but also the seat. I won't go into the sordid details of what happened next. All I have to say is it took me long enough to get myself unstuck that I resolved to lose some weight, and that I needed a shower afterward. The shower was actually quite nice, at least at the beginning. The heat went a long way towards soothing all my various aches. At least until the hot water ran out.
It felt like someone had just doused me with a barrel of ice water. I couldn't help but jump out of the shower, shivering and still covered with soap. In short, I made a right mess of the bathroom. I must have used four towels to dry off, and another three or so to mop up the bathroom floor. I probably should have gotten an actual mop, but I wasn't really thinking clearly. I was freezing my tail off, and all I wanted to do was to wrap myself up in a blanket.
That's how I spent the rest of the night. I raided the closet for as many blankets as I could find and wrapped myself in a ball on the couch. And miraculously, I finally fell asleep like that.
I woke up to sunlight that was brighter than it had any right to be and the sound of Bon Bon freaking out about...something. She had probably discovered for herself that the refrigerator had gone on the fritz. The blankets had worked well. I wasn't cold anymore. I was on the verge of melting. I wasn't coughing anymore, but every single orifice in my head seemed to be plugged. My eyes and ears felt fuzzed over. At least my headache was a little better. I tried to climb off the couch, got tangled in the blankets, and landed on the floor with a thud. Bon Bon heard it and rushed over.
“Lyra, what happened? Are you alright?”
“I'm fine.” I sounded like a frog.
“You are most definitely not fine,” she snorted.
“It's just allergies.” I stumbled into the kitchen and blew my nose. “And I didn't get much sleep is all.”
“Well, in that case, you should probably stay home today. I'd love to stay here and keep you company, but I have to help cater Celestia's visit. I'll be back after I get everything set up, okay? You just relax and get some rest.” She leaned in to give me a peck on the cheek, at exactly the same time that I turned around to face her. There was an audible bonk as we banged our heads together. She rubbed her head for a moment, and tried again, this time holding my head still. A quick kiss and a pained smile later, and she was out the door.
I figured I'd pass the time practicing my harp. No matter how terrible I felt, no matter how stressed or sad or depressed, I couldn't help but feel a bit of joy every time I sat down to play it. There was just something comforting about feeling its cool weight on my lap. I tried to think of a song to play. Suddenly, a song burst into my head.
“They all say that you'll get your mark
When the time is really right
And you know just what you're supposed to do
And your talent comes to liiiiiight!”
Nope, not that one. I started to play a scale. It was simple, a beginners exercise, but even I had always found a certain beauty in the sheer straightforwardness of the notes. Other ponies are generally more impressed with the technically complex pieces of music. I'll admit, there is a certain satisfaction in being able to play something like that, but my favorites have always been the simple melodies,played straight from the heart. Each note was like a ray of sunlight from the strings. I closed my eyes; I could almost see the notes float past, shimmering like gems. Then the gems shattered as one of the strings on the harp snapped with a twang.
I groaned. It would be a lie if I said I was surprised by this development, but that didn't make it any less aggravating. I hadn't planned to leave the house, but now I had to. Well, I didn't have to, but I didn't have anything else to do and I really really wanted to play my harp again. Now that I had given myself a taste of that happiness, I couldn't let it go that easily. Surely it couldn't take too long to get a replacement string. I took an aspirin and headed out. Hopefully whatever curse I had been hit with didn't extend outside the house.
I somehow made it to the music store without incident. Well, outside of nearly getting run over by a garbage cart and getting attacked by bees. It was a bit bright out, and it made my eyes itch. The shade of the music store was a welcome change. I'd always liked the smell; very old and woody, and a little bit sweet. Pity that my nose was too stuffed to enjoy it very much.
“Hey Lyra.” Blues was working the counter, as usual. “How are you doing today?”
“You don't want to know.” It sounded a bit harsher than I intended; I just wanted to grab my string and get back to my house before I broke something expensive. I still felt a bit wobbly and blurry. “I just need a G-string.”
“A what?” Blues snorted and smirked.
“A G-string”
He just stared at me, biting his lip to keep from laughing. I wanted to kick myself in the face for wording my request the way I had.
“For my harp!” I added, about a minute too late.
“I see, I see.” He nodded, still smiling due to my unfortunate innuendo. “I'm out of individual strings, unfortunately enough. Only ones I have in stock come in a full set.”
“How much for the full set?” I asked. I had a feeling I wasn't going to like the answer. Turns out I was right.
“Two hundred fifty bits.”
“What!?”
“I wish I had cheaper ones, but it's the most high-end set of strings that I have.”
I could hardly believe what I was hearing. I hadn't even known that Blues carried those.
“And they're the only ones left in stock? You know that's out of my price range!” My voice cracked awkwardly halfway through the second question. “There's only like one other pony in town who ever even buys harp strings!”
“Why do you think I have so few in stock?” He answered. It made sense, though I was reluctant to accept that explanation.
“I don't suppose I could get them for a hundred and fifty bits?”
“Sorry, even for you, two hundred is the absolute lowest I can go. Beauty would tan my hide if I lost that much.”
Truth be told, the temptation was strong. Unfortunately, I had enough presence of mind to remember that Bon Bon and I would probably need that money to fix the fridge and replace all the food that had gone bad. The last thing I wanted to do was make a bad day worse by getting Bon Bon mad at me for wasting our food budget. I thought of her reaction when I installed the bipedal toilet and decided I didn't want to go through that again.
“That's too much.” I said with a groan. “Put in an order for me, okay?”
“Alright. I'll let you know when it comes in.”
“Thanks.” I began to walk out. There was a brief yell brief yell, a crash, and then everything suddenly went dark. I opened my eyes and still couldn't see anything. My head hurt even worse than it had the night before, and it felt really heavy. My ears were ringing. I tried to stand up, but couldn't. Well, my body could, but I couldn't lift my head. I could hear Blues' voice. It sounded strangely muffled.
“Lyra, are you okay!?”
“Uh, I'm not sure.” My own voice sounded a bit muffled and echo-y. “What happened?”
“Um...” I could sense reluctance in his voice. “A tuba fell on your head.”
“What!?” Now I was sure that the universe was just trying to screw with me. “Why was there a tuba up there?”
“Beauty Brass thought that we needed to display more brass instruments, and we didn't have any available floor space.”
I really wanted to go off on an angry rant about how stupid you had to be to hang a tuba from the ceiling, but given that it had only been mere hours since I had gotten my rump stuck in a toilet, I didn't really have the right to comment. And he was quite clearly apologetic anyway. No point in rubbing it in.
“Hold still for a minute.” He said. “I'm going to see if I can get you out of there. I felt his hooves fumbling with my tail. “Hey, watch what you're grabbing! That hurts!”
“Sorry.”
He wrapped his forelegs around my flank and gave me a tug. If anypony else (except Bon Bon, of course) had tried that, I would have bucked him right in the mouth, but I'd known Blues since music school. He had tried to hit on me a few times, before he figured out that I didn't really swing that way. We were still on pretty good terms though; we had hung out quite a bit. Still didn't keep this particular occurrence from being more than a little awkward, but at least I knew he didn't have any ulterior motives. But still, I had no doubt that if somepony walked into the store, it would look like we were engaging in something very indecent.
I heard the little bell over the door ring. Then I heard a familiar voice. Cheerilee.
“Hello, Blues. I'm just here to pick up those recorders that I order- Oh my.”
Even knowing that she had probably lost any and all respect for both of us, I still wish that I had been able to see her face. At least then I would have gotten something out of this debacle. Behind me, Blues started to blabber a hasty explanation.
“Wait, no, this isn't what it looks like!”
“I'll...come back later.” The bell over the door rang again, and I could tell that the shop was empty except for us.
“Well, Beauty is going to kill me.”
I know that I should have felt sorry for him, but I was the one with the tuba on my head.
“Whatever, just get this thing off me.”
“Okay, let's try something else.” He let go of me, and I could feel him getting a grip on the tuba.
“On the count of three, use your telekinesis to push. One, two-”
“On three, or after three?” I interrupted.
“On three.”
“Okay.”
“One, two, THREE!” Both of us gave it our all, but we merely succeeded in dragging me a few feet forward, tuba still firmly in place. “Okay, time for plan B.” Blues said. “I'll be right back.” I could hear him trot into one of the storage rooms. He emerged a few moments later. I could tell from the sound of his voice that he was carrying something in his mouth.
“Okay, let's see how this works.”
He lifted up the edge of the tuba a bit, and I could feel him stick something inside it.
“Hey, what are you-ACK!” A foul-smelling (and foul-tasting; I was unlucky enough to get it in my mouth) oily substance squirted into the tuba. He withdrew the whatever-it-was and stuck it back in, this time behind my head. I could feel the gloop pouring into my mane.
“Hopefully, that'll loosen your head.” The tuba shook as Blues took hold of it. “On the count of three, use your telekinesis, okay? One...” I braced myself against the floor. “Two....” My horn started to glowing as I got a mental grip on the tuba. “THREE!”
The tuba shot off my head and flew across the room and smashed against the wall next to the door, utterly obliterating a violin that had been hanging there and leaving a tuba-shaped dent in the wall. Glad as I was to have the instrument off my head, it nearly sickened me to see the violin in such sorry shape. All musical instruments (except the kazoo, may it forever be Cerberus' chew toy in Tartarus) are works of art, and I sort of felt like I had punched a hole through a painting or broken the head off of a statue.
“I'm so sorry!” I babbled. “I can pay for that. I hope.”
“No, no, that's okay. It's one of the cheaper models,” Blues muttered around the oil can that he gripped between his teeth. He was quite obviously unhappy at this development, but luckily it didn't seem to be directed at me. Didn't meant that I didn't still feel like a cowpie because of it, though. “It was my fault that you had the tuba on your head to start with, so I wouldn't feel right about charging you for it.”
I hung around for a few minutes trying to convince him to take something in return for the damage, but he refused. Ultimately, I thought it was best to head home before any more of my crappy luck wore off on him, if it hadn’t already.
Unbelievably, my journey home was almost entirely uneventful. There were an unusual number of fluffy bug-like things fluttering around. They were cuter than I would have thought; like a little cotton ball with wings. I tried to get one to land on my hoof, but they wouldn't come close to me. Maybe it was the smell of that nasty oil in my mane. I needed a shower.
The hot water heater was still down. The shower was so cold it was almost painful; it took me forever to get the oil out. I didn't quite get all of it; some of it stuck to my hooves and I landed flat on my face when I stepped out of the shower. Go figure. And then it turned out that I had used up all the towels the night before. I had to sit in the bathroom, shivering until I dried out enough to not leave a trail of water through the house.
Satisfied that I was more or less dry (I was still damp, but close enough), I finally tried to think of what I would do now. I put the harp away. No point in leaving it out there taunting me. It was almost painful; that first taste of melody was making me desperate to play something. I sighed. There was only one option left. I have to admit that I've never been a huge fan of the banjo, but I had received one as a gift from a great-aunt who didn't really understand the differences between the various string instruments. I play it from time to time; I started out of a sense of obligation, and as it turned out it didn't sound nearly as horrific as I had expected, at least not when you finally got the hang of playing it. I tried to think of a song to play.
“But it's not as easy as it sounds
And that waiting's hard to do
So we test our talents everywhere
Until our face is blue!”
Ugh, no. Not that.
I slid the case out from under the sofa. It wasn't nearly as dusty as I had expected, given how long it had been since I last played it. It also looked...full. Last time I had dug it out I had remembered the clasps and hinges being loose. Had I fixed it since then? It looked like it was about to burst open. I flipped the clasps open. The case popped open in an explosion of streamers and confetti, a piece of which landed in my eye. When I finally recovered from the process of getting it out, I could see that the banjo was gone, replaced with a cluster of balloons that twisted into a shape that was probably supposed to resemble a banjo but more closely resembled a certain anatomical feature. One that I, being a mare, do not possess. A note was taped to the inside of the lid.
I. O. U.
One (1) Banjo
P. Pie
I really should have been more angry about the blatant disregard for my privacy, but I was too tired to muster any emotion other than a grudging annoyance. More than anything I was unhappy that I was going to have to waste time cleaning up the confetti. And buck it, she used glitter. WHY? I couldn't help but think that of all ponies, she should know how aggravating it is to get glitter out of a carpet.
“Lyra...”
Bon Bon had a lot of voices, and this one told me that I should tread lightly. It wasn't quite the same tone she had taken when she found out about the biped toilet. That was her “angry” voice. If she had been using that, I probably would have run. This was her “suspicious” voice.
“Yes?” I answered, not daring to turn around.
“So...I ran into Cheerilee on my way back from the shop. She tells me that it looked like you were doing something rather...inappropriate with Blues in the music shop. I was quite skeptical given that you've never shown any interest in stallions, but still, you and Blues have been close for a long time, and then I get home and find you holding an inflatable...that.”
“It's a banjo,” I croaked. “Or at least, it's supposed to be.” I held up the note that Pinkie had left.
“And the thing with Blues?”
“I had a tuba stuck on my head, and he was trying to pull me out of it.” I looked her straight in the eyes. “You know me. You know that I'd never do anything like that. I couldn't. I love you too much.” It was hokey, but I couldn't think of anything else to say. I just started babbling. “This whole day has just been terrible; I couldn't sleep because of my allergies and I knocked the lamp on my head and got stuck in the toilet and the hot water heater broke and I tried to play my harp but one of the strings on my harp broke so I went to get another one but got a tuba stuck on my head, and we pulled it off and I smashed one of his violins and I feel horrible about it. Ask him about it, he'll-”
“Shhh.” Bon Bon put her hoof on my lips and smiled. “It's okay. I'm sorry. You're right.”
I didn't realize it until that moment, but I had been been enormously tense. As soon as I heard her voice, it all melted away. I had a tough time staying on my feet. We hobbled over to the couch.
“I'm sorry I haven't been around today. What happened? You disappeared on me last night.”
I took a deep breath and listed all the things that had gone wrong. Or at least most of the things; I'm sure I forgot some of them, but I definitely hit the high points. Or the low points, as the case was. I had kinda assumed that getting it all off my back would make me feel a bit better, but it didn't really help. I just felt like I was whining. But Bon Bon has always been patient with me and all my quirks, so she took it in stride. I know this is sappy, but I'm lucky to have her. I get the feeling most ponies would get annoyed at me much more easily.
When I finally finished, Bon Bon put her foreleg around me and leaned in close. She began to whisper in my ear.
“It'll be okay, Lyra, I know what we can do to make you feel better.”
I could've sworn she was using her “sultry” voice.
“Bon Bon...” I muttered. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm really not up to that right now...”
“Not that, silly.” She ruffled my mane lightly. “I'm not in the mood for that right now either. No, what you need is a nice slice of pie.”
“Pie?” My ears perked up. If she was talking about what I thought she was talking about, my day was about to get a whole lot better.
“Yes, pie.” She grinned. “You know what I'm talking about.”
I knew exactly what she was talking about. The Sugarcube Silk Strawberry Crème Pie. The very first thing that Sugarcube Corner ever sold, back in the pre-Pinkie Pie era when Mr. and Mrs. Cake were just starting out. It was the very first thing they ever sold, and needless to say, it made their bakery, and over the years they've perfected it. No exaggeration. It's like they stuffed a whole field's worth of fresh cream-covered strawberries into a single pie. And to say that it's silky is a vast understatement. Forget silk; compared to that pie, silk is burlap woven from barbed wire. And the burlap is also on fire. That's how smooth this pie is. If it were a fabric, I'd make a pair of pants out of it and wear them literally all the time. The pie pants would never come off. Okay, that metaphor was a bit weird, but you get the picture. This pie is simply the best edible object in all of Equestria. It's also extremely expensive, hence why I didn't give myself diabetes years ago by never eating anything else.
I hadn't really been planning on leaving the house again after what had happened last time, but the temptation was too great. Unbelievably, we managed to get to Sugarcube Corner without incident. Maybe it was because Bon Bon was guarding me. More of those weird fuzzy bugs were buzzing around At the time I simply thought that things were starting to go my way. How wrong I was. I had forgotten my money (naturally), but Bon Bon had it covered. A few minutes later we were sitting at one of the outside tables.
“Feeling better?” Bon Bon asked.
“A little.” I said, smiling. I still felt like crap, but with the large slice of the Sugarcube Silk Strawberry Crème Pie sitting right in front of me, ready to be eaten, I couldn't feel too bad. My mouth was watering so much I was afraid I'd start drooling if I didn't dig in.
“Hey, Lyra, look at this!” I looked away from my pie to see Bon Bon pointing at a cloud of the weird bugs that had been flying around the town all morning. “Aren't they cute?” She held out a hoof, trying to get one to land. After a few seconds, a blue puffball fluttered down and landed on the tip of her hoof, squeaking cutely. “It's so adorable.”
“Yeah, it's really cute.” I couldn't help but smile at it. It looked like a stuffed foal's toy come to life. Then it opened its mouth. There weren't dozens of rows of teeth, or acidic saliva, or anything like that, but the sheer size of it; it stretched wide enough to swallow a pony whole. For a moment, I was afraid that it was going to eat Bon Bon's head. Then it attacked Bon Bon's cake, devouring the whole thing in one bite. Then it opened its mouth again. My eyes widened.
No.
NO.
DON'T DO IT!
NOT THE SUGARCUBE SILK STRAWBERRY CREME PIE!
The pie was no more. It had been eaten, and I wasn't the one who ate it.
I don't know what happened. Everything rushed back; all the misery of the past twelve hours attacked me. The stuffed nose, the sore throat, the headache, the chills, the cough, the stench of the rotted food in the fridge, the sound of the harp string snapping, the weight of the tuba on my neck, the embarrassment at getting caught in a compromising situation with Blues, the indignity of having my privacy invaded, and the pain of being robbed. Sure it was just pie; very very good pie, but still just pie. But it was more than that. It was supposed to be my sweet relief after a day of frustration; my oasis in a desert of misery. And that stupid bug had snatched it right out from under me.
My head started to spin; everything was throbbing, ringing, beating, pulsing, and then out of nowhere-
“We are the Cutie Mark Crusaders
On a quest to find out who we are
And we will never stop the journey
Not until we have our cutie marks!”
The only things I could feel aside from the crush of irritation were the tears welling up in my eyes, making everything a blur. I wrapped my forelegs around my head, and half-collapsed face down on the table in a futile attempt to block out everything. I wanted to scream. I wanted to punch something; kick something. Whatever it was that was responsible for it all. I couldn't. There was nothing to scream at; no one to punch. There was nothing to blame for anything except for dumb luck.
I let out some sort of sound; part scream, part groan, part sobbing, part pure unadulterated- I don't even know what it was. All I know is that it reduced me to a shivering wreck. Bon Bon tells me that those little bugs ended up eating a big chunk of the town, but I don't remember any of it. I vaguely recall her leading me home; I stared at the ground the whole way. The first thing that I really remember is waking up on the couch. As I opened my eyes I saw Bon Bon staring down at me. She was sitting up, biped style. My head was resting on her lap.
“Bon Bon, I-”
“Shhh. Just relax.” She began to stroke my mane. I felt like a filly being comforted by her mother, but it didn't matter. I was so relaxed that I was numb, like I had no bones in my body. My legs all felt like noodles. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Surprisingly, I was actually able to.
“But what about that dinner you were helping to cater?”
“It got canceled. Celestia had some sort of emergency to attend to. Although given how your day went, I might have stayed here with you anyway.”
“You don't have to do that.” I said softly.
“It's okay. I want to.” She pressed her hoof to her lips and then pressed her hoof against my cheek. “I think you need me more than Princess Celestia needs her candy. I hear she prefers cake anyway.”
“Thanks.”
“You're welcome. We'll go get you another piece of pie tomorrow, when all those things are gone, okay?”
“Sounds good to me.”
I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.
