S.M.A.R.T.I. - P.A.N.T.S

                                                                            A Typical Tuesday

Having two government agents knocking at her front door was not how Twilight Sparkle thought her Tuesday morning was going to start.

She examined the duo standing at the door for what seemed like an eternity, before finally asking, “Um... can I help you?”

The first of the two ponies took a step forward. Like his partner, he was wearing a completely black suit, with a white shirt and grey tie underneath.  His mane was short and tidy, dark black in colour, the same shade as his suit. Black tinted sunglasses obscured the colour of his eyes, although if Twilight were to hazard a guess, it would be that his eyes were dull and grey, much like his personality.

“Mrs Sparkle?” He said in a monotone voice, like he was reading from some invisible script. His voice was bland and uninteresting, but oozed with a thick Canterlot accent.

“Excuse me?” Twilight finally stammered, honestly confused at what was going on. She had never been referred to as a ‘Miss’ before, so hearing her name used in such a context threw her a little off guard.

“Miss Twilight Sparkle?” he repeated himself, this time more assertively. He took another step forwards. “Student of Princess Celestia?”

“Yes, I’m Twilight Sparkle.” Being a stickler for manners, the unicorn shot her hoof out in greeting. She expected him to return the gesture, or introduce himself, but alas, he did nothing. He eyed the outstretched foreleg like some foreign object, making no attempt to shake.

The lavender mare rolled her dark purple eyes in frustration. “Here, like this.” She gave the stallion a brief lesson on how to shake hooves with another pony, grasping his left leg and giving it a little shake.  “See?”Rather than thank her for the valuable education, he merely looked down at his hoof, gave it the longest stare, and then wiped it on his suit like he had trodden on something most undesirable.

Rude.

Unnerved by the... oddness of the duo, Twilight took one uneasy step backwards and contemplated slamming the door in their faces right then, right there. She forced a false smile, which ended up looking like a mix between being in extreme pain and having gastric gas. “Is there... something I can help you boys with?”

“Twilight Sparkle, I have something for you...” The colt-in-black began to reach slowly, malevolently into his inside pocket, and it was right then that Twilight decided she was going to shut the door, bolt it, chain it, barricade it, form a protective bubble-shield around the house and hide in her book fort. She liked to call such a procedure the “I don’t want what you’re selling” plan.

“...It’s a letter.” He continued, putting the mare at ease.

Oh. Okay then.

Still, they must have been the strangest mail-ponies she had ever seen. Well, she had ever really known one mail-pony during her stay, and Derpy was rather... eccentric, but these two took the metaphorical cake.

The ‘mail-pony’ pawed through the confines of his suit pocket for a full minute before turning to his companion. “Did you bring the letter?”

“I thought you were supposed to bring it.” The other replied, every bit as monotone as the first pony.

“I did. I distinctively remember putting it in my pocket.”

“Did you try the other pocket?”

“There is only one pocket.”

The second held his hoof to some strange black device which clung to his ear like an eavesdropping bug. “Mmm-hmm. Mmm-hmm. Roger that. Out.” He turned back to his companion. “Did you bring the right jacket?”

“... The other one was dirty.”

Twilight snapped them back to the matter at hand. “No matter, I’m sure that Spike will cough it up eventually. Well, if that’s all...” She began to close the door.

A hoof lodged itself between the door and the doorframe, acting as a makeshift wedge and preventing the door from closing any further. The first stallion pushed his muzzle thorough the narrow crack. “Mrs Sparkle, may we come in to discuss something?”

Twilight tried to force the door closed, to no avail. The pony was unnaturally strong. “That’s... okay, but thanks...anyway...” She grunted in effort, trying her best to keep the strangers at bay.

Despite having a door repeatedly closed upon his face, the black-suited pony still retained his calm, robotic demeanour. “I think it would be best if you let us in, Mrs Sparkle. It’s quite important.”

“I’d quite like a cup of tea.” The second pony mumbled from somewhere outside.

“May we come in for a quick cup of tea?” The squashed muzzle relayed the information, sounding about as convincing as Discord at a dinner party.

“I’m sorry,” Twilight’s voice cracked, just a little. “But I’m all out of tea.”

Just then, Spike came sauntering down the winding staircase which ran along the inside wall of the library, his pink bunny slippers making soft pattering plods with each step. He yawned, stretching his scaled hands above his head and craning his sleepy head from side to side. “Morning, Twi’.” He grumbled, still a little drowsy from his 17 short hours in bed. “What were you saying, there?”

“I was just informing,” grunted Twilight, fighting to keep the door from bursting inwards, “These nice strangers that we are all out of tea.”

Spike gave her a blank, puzzled look. “No we aren’t.” He held up his white ceramic mug, adorned with a big ‘#1 assistant’ which was brimming with the drink in question. “I’m drinking tea now.”

“Spike!” she hissed back. “You’re not helping.”

The baby dragon gave her one of his goofy little laughs and took another swig of tea, licking at his lips with a forked tongue. “Who are they, the tea police?”

“No, we quit the force a while ago.” The second stranger’s voice floated in through the crack in the door. He sounded far too serious to be joking.

“Listen, who are you, and what do you want?” Twilight gasped as she felt the door getting pushed further and further, widening the gap until a full, sunglasses adorned head popped through.

“Mrs Sparkle, we mean you no harm. We work for the government. We just need to have a word. It’s very important.”

This was followed up by, “Also, we brought biscuits.”

Spike eyed the disembodied head suspiciously. “What kind of biscuits?”

“Golden Jewels.”

Spike nodded, seemingly pleased with their choice in foodstuffs. “Any sandwiches to go along with that?”

“Daffodil and hay. And of course, a few gemstones for yourself.”

“Come on in, strangers!” Spike beamed, pushing a protesting Twilight to one side. “Oh mysterious bringers of food, conveyers of candy, welcome!”

Twilight lay sprawled in a heap of books, shaking herself free of the newest Daring Doo adventure which had made a new home atop her scalp. When she rose to her hooves, she saw, to her dismay, that the door was wide open and the strangers (in every sense of the word) were standing in her library, acting all mysterious. And they didn’t even wipe their hooves.

“Fine, I give up.” Twilight sighed, throwing her hooves in the air like she just no longer cared. Her logic was this: the sooner she entertained her ‘guests’ and listened to what they had to tell her, the sooner they would leave and she could get back to her reading. “Make yourselves comfortable, I guess.”

Spike licked his lips, hungrily. “I’ll put the kettle on, then.”