Nothing to Do but Wait

Within 15 minutes, Rainbow had a large portion of the magazine rebranded with some classic RD humor.  Mustaches, insults, and various doodles were scattered throughout the pages of the old magazine.  She kept the pen, not wanting to have to ask the mare at the window for it later if she would happen to want it again.

12:02.  Rainbow Dash had been waiting for two full hours at this point, an hour and 50 minutes too long in her eyes.  She got up and poured another cup of water.  She observed the rising bubbles in the cooler as the water was being emptied into her cup.  They reflected everything in a funny way; she could even see herself being distorted into a small blob of cyan and rainbow colors with each passing bubble.  Rainbow finished her cup and returned for a third.  As the bubbles rose again, she moved her head around in various ways, distorting her profile to an even funnier degree.  While gulping down this cup just like she had the rest, it hit her: she had to use the bathroom.

After doing her business, Dash decided to stay in the bathroom to look for entertainment.  She would still be able to hear the nurse calling for her through the thin wooden door, and no one was in here to stop her from goofing off.

Rainbow needed to run around, something she wasn't allowed to do back in the waiting room.  First she ran from the door to the opposite wall and back 10 times, then flew in the same manner 20 times.  Then she tried to flush all of the toilets in the smallest amount of time.  She flushed the first, bolted out of the stall, into the second stall, flushed it, and did the same with the third and the fourth.  She managed about 10 seconds flat.  But she didn't stop there, not when there were still records to break and toilets to flush.  She tried again, getting about the same time as before.  Undeterred, she retried, this time getting about 9 seconds.  She realized that she didn't have to be precise with the final flush; just running straight into the handle would save time.  This got her down to about 7 seconds.  She grabbed some paper towels and dried up a few moist spots in her path so she would have more traction.   "The janitor better thank me later for this," Rainbow muttered.  A few more attempts got her down to a time of 6 seconds, a time she could be proud of.  She could now boast to her friends that she was better at flushing toilets than they were.

The ponies in the waiting room were relieved to hear the constant flushing of toilets finally come to an end.  They rejoiced in unison.

Dash wanted to try her hoof at origami, something she'd seen before but never really cared enough to learn.  At first she wanted to do it with the rigid paper towels, but then she remembered how the restrooms at the Gala normally had toilet paper origami; Dash felt that the same touch could give this bathroom a livelier atmosphere.  Some had been in the shape of a sailboat, others were flowers, some were seashells, and some were just intricate designs.  But how did those things work again?  At her first Gala, she had unfolded one of the sailboats to see how it was put together, but the specifics of this were long forgotten by now.  Even if she had remembered, would she actually be able to put all those steps in reverse to get the end result?  Was it folded horizontally first, or diagonally?  And then what?  Did she even fully remember what the end product should look like?  She decided to just go with the flow and hopefully get a fancy design in the end.

First, she folded the two end corners in towards each other, then she folded everything upward, making a triangle.  Then she folded everything over to the left.  When she let go to scratch her leg, everything unraveled.  She tried again, folding the creases harder this time.  Doing a test, she released the paper.  It fell apart again.  The toilet paper was simply not resilient enough to stay folded.  Dash thought for a moment, then went to the sinks to wet her hooves.  This time, she dampened the creases with water, hoping it would adhere.  When Dash let go, it stayed firmly in its place.  She went to rewet her hooves then came back to continue folding.  Fold up, then diagonal on both sides, down, cross left twice, more water.  Up twice, up and to the right, crease backwards, then finally fold into a triangle.  It wasn't the prettiest design Dash had ever seen, but she liked it nonetheless.  She would have taken it home and framed it if she could've.  She copied this design in two of the other stalls.

Wanting to continue her sudden streak of artistry, Dash went back to the waiting room to grab her pen.  Returning to the bathroom, she unrolled some of the toilet paper in the final stall.  Memories of poetic devices she had "learned" in school came flashing into her head:  onomatopoeia, trochee, imagery, iambic pentameter.  She used none of these in the toilet paper poem she was writing because she just didn't want to deal with that stuff.  The pen sometimes snagged on the piece of toilet paper, creating small holes and tears throughout.  Despite this, her end product would surely catch the eye of anypony who happened to use this stall.

Trapped in this endless waiting,

I wish I were in my home.

I miss my bed and my pet

I'm tired of playing with Styrofoam.

The waiting room is evil

It has an ill-willed mind!

Aiming to drain the patients of fun

And bore all of ponykind!!

I am starting a rebellion

Join me if you like

Write things in the toilet paper

To help pass your time

It can be whatever really I don't care

A poem, a picture, a story

Fight against the waiting room

And it's desire to be boring!

~Rainbow Dash

Anypony who reads this masterpiece will have no choice but to continue this tradition and write something else due to the sheer inspiration in my poem!  Smiling at her handywork, she added one final closing note to ensure the poem's safekeeping.

Please don't wipe your plot with this.