AN INGENIOUSLY WOVEN AND INTRICATE PLOTLINE
The clock's solemn ticking reverberated throughout the castle's study. Flames crackled in the fireplace, casting vibrant orange hues over the sleek crystal walls and floor. Twilight warmed herself beside the fire while she waited for the tea kettle hanging on a hook above it to come to a boil.
“I say,” Rarity announced, “for somepony who was in such a hurry to gather us together, Rainbow Dash is quite tardy.”
Pinkie Pie, Applejack, and Fluttershy mumbled agreement. There were two couches in the study, set at a right angle to each other. Rarity and Pinkie sat on the two-seater to the left, while Fluttershy and Applejack sat on the larger one, leaving empty spots for Twilight and, eventually, Rainbow.
“Any y'all got a clue what she rounded us up fer?” Applejack asked.
“Nope,” Pinkie Pie said. She sprang to her hooves. “She just came in--” She rocked left and then swooped right as she said: “--and then dashed right out again.” She jumped and struck a heroic flying pose, then dropped back onto the couch with a bounce. “Maybe she broke a new speed record!”
“Maybe the Wonderbolts promoted her,” Fluttershy said. She lay with her chin resting on the cushions.
“Or maybe,” Applejack said dryly, “she jes' wants ta show us another stump she reckons looks like Princess Celestia.”
Fluttershy raised her head, ears folded flat against her skull in trepidation. “She was....quite pleased with herself that one time, wasn't she?”
“I do admire the girl for her bravery and, er, pluck,” Rarity chimed in, “but when an idee fixe takes hold of her, it does not let go easily.”
“You said it,” Applejack said. “Lot fancier'n me, but you said it.”
“Oh, she's just enthusiastic,” Twilight said from the fireplace. “It's always good to have some unabashed enthusiasm in our lives.”
The kettle started to steam, and she magically levitated a tray with six cups into the air beside her. Each one had a teabag in it already; she was nothing if not prepared. She magicked the kettle off the fire and poured water into each cup. The intoxicating leafy aroma wafted up as the steaming water hit the tea. She breathed deep of it, savoring the rich earthy flavor, then turned to deliver a cup to each of her friends. The tray bobbed along beside her, held aloft by her magenta magic aura.
Applejack looked down at something buried in the couch's folds. “Hey, what's this?” she asked. She pulled a literary magazine out. On the cover was a picture of Canterlot, surrounded by looping cursive: 'If It Were In Any Way Possible That I Could Be....'
“Oh,” said Twilight. “Rainbow came to see me the other day, and I stuck that down there to hide it from her."
“Why? Does good taste offend her so?” Rarity asked impishly.
Twilight smiled. “No, she keeps pestering me to borrow them. She says she wants to keep an eye on what's hot in the lit world. What that actually means is she takes them, complains there aren't enough pictures or action stories, then never gives them back.”
“They still on this whole kick?” Applejack asked, glancing idly at the cover. “Where two folks are gabbin', an' one of 'em says she might be a Changeling jes' ta get a rise outta the other one? Heck, there's so many a'these things even Ah've heard of 'em.”
“They're quite popular,” Rarity said. “For a time, they graced the feuilleton section of the Sunday Express practically every week. I read a fair few then.”
“I was on the edge of my seat for that first one!” Pinkie said. “Was she a Changeling? Was she not? My hair was on end!” She stuck her hooves in her mouth and blew, puffing her cheeks out and making her mane stick straight up like streamers in an updraft. “Like that!” she said with a smile as her hair drooped and then popped into its usual curl.
Twilight finished giving out steaming cups of tea. She set the sixth on the table in front of the couches, then settled down next to Applejack. “I think the trend is starting to peter out,” she said as she sipped her tea. “But there's still a few stragglers trickling in. Mostly writers trying to do something new and original with it.”
“I didn't like the first one,” Fluttershy said. “The mare was so mean to trick her friend like that.”
“Her friend's overreaction proved she was right, though,” said Twilight. “Because there was an underlying racism that needed to be exposed. That's what I took from it, at least.”
“Pish-posh,” Rarity said dismissively. “I just thought it was forced, inconsistent writing, desperate to tackle an 'issue' at any cost. I much preferred the good lambasting it got in the parody.”
“There was a much nicer story a month later,” Fluttershy said, “where everypony just sits down and talks it out as calm, reasonable friends.” She looked to the others nervously. “Isn't that so much nicer, girls?”
“Even though the Changeling invasion was three years ago,” Twilight said. “It seems like the story touched a nerve in the body politic. Everypony and their mother wants to get in on the trend.”
Applejack chuckled then, but there was a nervous tension undergirding her laughter that made her friends go deathly silent. She looked to each of them in turn, a screwball grin and deeply worried eyes fighting for control of her conflicted facial expression. “Say, y'all don't reckon....?” Applejack waved a hoof. “Nah, forget it. It's nothing. Just a fancy Ah took to. Or rather, took ta gettin' away from.”
Rarity asked, “What is it, darling?”
Applejack shifted on the couch. “Y'all don't suppose....” She cast a glance at each of her friends in turn, deeply uncomfortable. “Y'all don't suppose the reason Rainbow called us here....”
Rarity's silvery, moonlike face cracked into a look of absolute horror that would've put the mare in the moon herself to shame.
“What?” Fluttershy asked, her eyes flicking rapidly between her two friends. “What?!”
Rarity clutched at her breastbone with a fetlock as she heaved for breath. “She couldn't possibly.”
“No.” Twilight pointed fiercely at Applejack. “Not after the Golden Oaks incident. There is no way.”
Applejack was sweating so freely now that she took her hat off and wiped her brow. “Ah think she's gonna.”
Fluttershy whimpered and tried to burrow into the couch.
Pinkie jumped to her hooves, breathing raggedly, mouth twisted in terror.
Rarity shook her head vigorously. A perfect semi-circle of frown arced across her muzzle.
Applejack laughed nervously in an attempt to relieve the tension, and failed miserably.
“She can't,” Twilight said, rocking back and forth. “She can't, she can't, she can't.”
Rarity's face, frozen in terror, turned to the door with a deep longing she usually reserved for beautiful dresses. Her eyes flitted between the door and her friends, wordlessly communicating to all of them that somepony had to be the first to go.
Before it was too late.
The air was thick was tension. It suffocated them all, smothered every fiber of their being with a haze of abject terror. Rarity's eyes went to the door more and more frequently. Flicking. Darting. Desperate. They plainly indicated she wanted very much to be the first mare through it. Everypony else's eyes urged her on, urged her to shatter the moment of terrified indecision and break the spell holding them fast.
A squeal escaped her throat. It built in ear-splitting intensity like an unoiled hinge on a creaky door.
She shook and trembled, unable to control it anymore.
Rarity broke.
She lunged off the couch screaming and galloped full-tilt for the door. Everypony else followed a split-second behind her, clambering over each other to get out of the room before it became a deathtrap.
Rarity was almost free. She was only a few paces from the door.
An enormous smile came over her face.
She was almost free!
Almost.
Almost....
Almost....!
Her forehoof reached for the handle.
The door banged open and slammed right into her face.
The impact flung her backwards, into the herd of ponies hot on her hooves. All five of them went to the marble floor in a tumble, strewn over each other like a pile of dirty laundry. All was still for a moment as they groaned and lay on the floor and on each other. The first pony to raise her head from the tangle was Twilight. She saw Rainbow Dash, having just bucked the door in with her hind legs, twist around to pose in the doorway triumphantly. She reared back and spread her wings wide as she kicked the air.
“Dah-da-da-daaah!” she trumpeted. “I'm heeere!”
One by one, her friends picked themselves woozily off the floor.
“No need to bow, no need to bow,” Rainbow said. “Now, I bet you're wondering why I called you here.”
Twilight said, “Um, yes. 'Wondering'. That's the word.”
Dash herded her whimpering friends to the couches, totally oblivious to the way they all craned their necks back and stared longingly at the exit. Sighing wearily, they took their seats. Dash beamed at them from a few paces away.
“As you know, I'm not just a mare of action. I also like to think I'm capable of acrobatics in the world of culture, too.”
Dash started to pace, and when she was facing the other way Twilight shared a bloodless grimace with her friends. Then Rainbow turned, and Twilight slapped a polite smile onto her face.
“Do go on,” Rarity said weakly.
“It's not enough to soar through the skies!” Rainbow thundered. “For a mare isn't complete unless she can also soar....with her mind.” Her melodramatic delivery put so much emotion into those last three words they were spoken in a strained, raspy gasp. “And I like to think I can soar very, very high!”
Pinkie stuck a party horn between her teeth and blew into it. The business end sluggishly unfurled and wheezed pathetically. She let it drop from her lips. “Heh heh, the highest,” she said.
Dash continued ranting about cultural acrobatics.
When she wasn't looking, Rarity lunged across the divide, grabbed Applejack, and whispered hoarsely, “You are our only hope! Your brutal honesty is like a beacon against the oncoming tempest!”
Applejack's brow furrowed. “But....she's our friend, an' she sounds so pleased wit' herself....”
“It's her or us!”
“Ahem,” Rainbow Dash said, tapping a hoof on the floor. “Excuse me. Pony of the hour talking here?”
Rarity chuckled and let go of Applejack. She sank back into her seat, where her chuckles turned into soft sobs. Pinkie Pie patted her on the back and whispered words of encouragement.
“Anyway,” Dash said. “I have called you, my friends, here for one important, neigh, very important reason. I am about to become a mare of culture. A high-flier, not only in a real way, but also....in the way when you use a word like a metaphor!”
“'Figuratively',” Twilight said.
“Gesundheit,” Dash said. “Girls, I....”
She draw a deep breath, relishing the silence. The other five sat on the edges of their seats, waiting for the horseshoe to drop.
“....wrote a short story!”
She whipped a manuscript out of her saddlebag, held it high like a treasured relic, and then slapped it down onto the table. The others groaned in chorus, sending up a haunting wail that wouldn't have sounded out of place in Tartarus.
“What's gotten into you guys?” Dash asked.
Twilight took a solemn breath. “Rainbow, you know we love you. You're brave and heroic and righteous--”
“Sometimes leaning a bit towards self-righteous,” Rarity added.
“--but the truth is....” Twilight licked her lips and stared into Dash's fierce gaze. “Your work....needs some work?”
“Well, duh!” Dash broke out into a smile. “I know that. Geez, Twilight, you're the one who told me every first draft can be improved. Even though I know my writing is pure awesome, I'm humble enough to admit that even I make mistakes. I'm sure there's a few glamour problems that need to be fixed. So that's why you're going to be my test audience!”
“Celestia save us!” Pinkie cried.
Applejack jumped off the couch and onto her shaking hooves. “Yer stories are awful and we don't want ta hear 'em!” She promptly laid back down and did her best to hide under her hat.
Dash's face scrunched up in outrage. “Whaaa....?”
“The prose is so bad it fills us with such terrible existential dread!” Rarity added.
“I never endorsed book burning until I read one of your stories,” Twilight said. Breath rattled in and out of her lungs. “It was that bad. When you asked me to proofread, I thought about making crimes against literature actual crimes and having you arrested for breaking the law. I'm a princess, I can do that, so don't you tempt me!”
“I don't believe this,” Dash said. “I thought you'd stick with me through thick and thin.”
Applejack pulled her hat off her head and, with a mighty sigh, looked up at Dash. “What we're tryin' ta say, sugarcube, is that supportin' yer friends is a fine an' noble thing. But sometimes that means tellin' 'em what they shouldn't be doin'. Fer their own good.”
“And the good of everypony else,” Fluttershy added.
“You don't think I have it in me to write a good story?” Dash asked, eyes blazing with wounded pride.
“No!”
“No.”
“Good heavens, no!”
“Nope!”
“Nuh-uh.”
"No!" Spike shouted through the wall.
She countered, “But everypony loves my campfire stories.”
“Did'ja write 'em yerself?” Applejack asked.
“No. I memorized them from the book.”
Applejack nodded. “Well, there's the hog in the haystack.”
“No matter how you guys try and pull me down to earth, I can feel it.” Dash pounded her chest. “In here. My soul tells me I need to say things.” She raised her head to the window and looked at the moon, a reflected glimmer of its luster sparkling in her eyes. Impassioned, she said, “This is my calling. This is what I'm supposed to do.” She tilted her head to the side. “Aside from being the best Wonderbolt in history, breaking every speed record known to ponykind, and creating Dashland, my own personal amusement park full of rollercoasters and tilt-a-whirls where foals from all over Equestria can live my life for an afternoon. Aside from all that, writing is what I'm meant to do with my life. In my heart, I know it. I soar....” She breathed deep, then bravely faced her friends, her voice swelling to the breaking point with passion. “....and so do my words.”
“You wrote that the hippocampus was a college for hippopotami,” Twilight said, awed by the immensity of Dash's literary sins. “You thought 'vermilion' was what came after a trillion. I lectured you on the importance of proper punctuation, and you brushed me off by saying a writer of your 'calipurs' arrives when she wants to. I tried to tell you how to properly use a gerund, and you kept saying, 'I could care less about somepony named Gerald'. AND YOU KEEP USING 'I COULD CARE LESS'!” She was shouting at the top of her lungs by now, but it was the only way she could pierce the red cloud of rage overwhelming her senses. “It's 'couldn't care less', because the only thing 'could care less' rules out....is you don't care at all!”
“I've grown as a writer, Twilight,” Rainbow said. Her eyes were probing, insistent, pleading. “I even took your advice and bought a dictionary.”
“You bought Addictionary. It's a board game. A board game about vocabulary that you haven't managed to win once. I don't know how, but you even managed to lose to Gummy. And he can't read, write, or speak.”
"Says you," Pinkie said with a snort.
“Psh. You can forgive Discord for being evil, but can't give my writing another shot? What kind of magic of friendship is that? I have words and feelings I need to say to other ponies. Words and feelings about issues! Important issues facing ponies today. I have very important things to add to the literary porpoise, Twilight!”
“Corpus.”
Dash blinked. “What? Really?”
Her five friends nodded firmly.
“It means 'body',” Twilight said flatly. “A body of literature. What did you think it meant?”
“I thought it was a metaphor, because it....carried the books and it kept itself above....the waves....” She steeled herself. “That's not important! I may have to change some pictures, but that's not important. What is important is that I write the kind of thought-revoking, groundbreaking fiction that makes ponies think deep thoughts and rethink everything they believe. But if my so-called friends don't even believe in me....I guess I'll just go home.”
“Oh, Rainbow,” Twilight said, relenting. “Fine. We'll hear your story.” When her friends started to protest, she gestured for them to calm down. “We're your friends, and it's wrong to judge you based on your past, er, literary stylings.”
“Disasterpieces, I would call them,” Rarity said.
“Schtum,” Twilight said. “We're Rainbow's friends, and we're going to give her another chance.”
Rarity rolled her eyes, but quieted down nonetheless.
Twilight gestured for Rainbow to speak. “So, what is your story about, Rainbow?”
“Well,” Rainbow said, puffing herself up with pride. She gave them a smug, sly smile. “My story is about two friends who are having a conversation, when one of them confides that she may, or may not, be a Changeling, and--”
The other five ponies groaned and fell to the couch cushions in various poses of agony and torment.
“It's been done, Sugarcube,” Applejack said.
“To death, darling,” Rarity added.
“Not the way I do it,” Rainbow boldly declared. “So you girls just sit your tails down and get ready to be amazed.”
Twilight felt like she was trudging to her doom. She hadn't even felt this hopeless when she was offering herself up to Lord Tirek. She glanced out the window, to the distant horizon, and wondered how sturdy the gates of Tartarus were.
Rainbow Dash swaggered in front of her five friends, cleared her throat, and lifted her manuscript up to her eye level. She took a deep breath to compose herself, then she began to speak:
“'It was a dark and stormy three o'clock in the afternoon.'”
Twilight let out a sob of despair.
“'The day had bored a witness to the epic whooping of the flanks of the evil Changeling army posed to take over the city of Canterlot. That witness is Fluffershorn, a meek pegasus mare. How bored she was caused her to poise a question to her friend, Mylar Speckle.'”
Twilight buried her face in her forehooves. “Oh, good grief.”
Applejack reached into her saddlebag, which rested against the couch, took out a cider bottle, and topped off her half-full teacup. She proceeded to down the brew, hard.
“'But was this a simple hyper-threatical question? That was the thought the mind of Mylar Speckle thought when she was first poised the question in the studying room of her old Canterlot house.'”
Rainbow Dash put on a theatrically shrewish voice. “'“How could you say a thing like that?” Mylar hangered. She couldn't believe Fluffershorn would say something like that.'”
“'Harangued',” Twilight said. “And I do not sound like that.”
Rainbow's steely eyes stared at her over the manuscript's top. “Hey, these are all one-hundred-percent original characters. If you see yourself in them, well, my writing just speaks to the heart of everypony.”
“Skewers, more like,” Applejack said softly.
“'Fluffershorn stood grounded and she said--'” Rainbow affected a wispy, almost inaudible voice, “'--“It is a very important issue facing Equestria today, and it may or may not effect me personally. It is the kind of thing that demands a lot of talking about, so we can sort our feelings out.”
“'“Does it effect you personally?”
“'“I can't answer that, Mylar! That'd give a valid date to your answer, which I want to know what it is, so I can plan the future.”
“'“Fluttersh--”' Er, whoops. Mistake.”
Rainbow picked up a quill and scratched a line off, then hastily scribbled something else in its place. Now that seeds of doubt about Fluttershy's pony nature had been sewn, Twilight, Rarity, Applejack, and Pinkie all turned to look at her. She folded her ears against her skull and sank into the couch, sweating profusely.
“Ahem,” Dash said. “'“Fluffershorn, that is a serious question, even if it is just a philosloppy one. Changelings are a very serious problem because of them trying to invade us from nowhere and how we know nothing about them, so we must all be very, very serious when we talk about them. I am unappreciating how you dance around the issue as a joke! I demand you answer me so I can know if to arrest you.”'”
“She don't talk near this bad,” Applejack whispered to Twilight.
“Sweet Celestia, I think she's aiming for literary prose,” Twilight whispered sidelong. “When we talk, it's handled by the brain on a nearly-unconscious level. But deliberately choosing which word to write, that's an art in-and-of-itself. Though in Dash's hooves, it's more like the literary equivalent of kindergarten hoofpainting.”
“'“So you would arrest me this very day for being a Changeling?” Fluffershorn asked.
“'“Changelings are evil and tried to take over our city, so if you are a Changeling you are evil too and should be arrested.”
“'“Your doctor's air is giving you sick advice.”'”
Pinkie Pie shook her head. “Whaaa....?”
“Doctrinaire and ill-advised,” Twilight replied drolly. “But you get points for something almost witty, Rainbow.”
“Hey, that's enough from the peanut gallery,” Dash said. She recomposed herself and, in Mylar's voice, resumed:
“'“You joke!”
“'“No, Mylar, the joke is you, and that joke is your feelings on Changelings.” Fluffershorn stood like a pony mad at a bookstore sold out of Daring-Do books. “They disturb me because they are racist and I do not like racism. So I'm not answering you to teach you lessons, and if you arrest me, you will feel very badly about failing the lessons.”
“'That answer put Mylar through her pacings all over the room, because everything she knew was called into questing for an answer. “This discussion makes me doubt if you're a pony, and I can't stand not knowing it, because my egghead nature will nag me about what I don't know. Our friendship cannot survive this. Oh, what will we do?!”'”
Twilight checked the clock, saw Rainbow Dash had only been in the room for ten minutes. She slumped sideways on her couch, propping her head up with one foreleg.
“'“Aha!” Mylar went to a birdcage of enchanted birds. “I will use new media to reach a friend of ours, who will help deter me if you're a Changeling.”
“'She perched one of the birds from its poach and held it up on her hoof. Its magic let it remember messages that were sent to other ponies. It repeated its last tweet: “Dumbbell Rump for Petitioner-General! Hashtag:TheRealMeatIsInTheRump.”
“'Mylar had no shame when she said, “I find Dumbbell Rump's plan to build a giant fence around Dimondia so we do not have to deal with stray Diamond Dogs to be a very good idea, and will vote for him to petition the princess on this matter.”'”
“'“Mylar!” Fluffershorn said. “Your racist attitudes towards Diamond Dogs tell me you are also wrong about Changelings--”'”
“Subtle,” Rarity said waspishly. “Very subtle.”
“'“--You are a racist, and that is bad. Creatures shouldn't be hated, just the ones that do hating things. Please shortchange your ways.”
“'“Not judge other races based on their races? My ways do not need shortchanging because your logic is insane, like that of a draconequus. Your insane draconequus logic makes me think you really are a Changeling trying to trick me! But we shall let our mutual friend settle the problem.” To the bird she said, “New private tweet At: SpectralRush: We need your help!”
“'Meanwhile, far high above the city, in a streak shot....Spectral Rush! Dazzling! Graceful! Fearless! The first pony to earn a Ph.D. in Dangerology from the University of Knox, which was so tough....'”
Utterly devoid of emotion, Twilight said, “It was the school of Hardknox.”
“Wow,” Rainbow said, her eyes shining. “I was just going to say it was really difficult to get a degree from, but that's much better! You mind if I use it?”
Twilight could only summon the energy to shrug vaguely.
Rainbow took that as a 'yes'. She bent over the manuscript and hastily scribbled parts of it out. While she did so, Applejack pulled her hat down over her cringing face, Rarity draped herself over the legrest and wailed, and Twilight shook her head despondently. Rainbow finished making her corrections and raised her head again.
“Alright,” she said. “Moving on. Ahem. 'She swooped through the clouds on purpose. Captain of the Wonderbolts, Secret Agent, world-famous rock star, amazing weather planner, brilliant scientist, and expert problem solver for hire, there was nothing Captain Spectral Rush, Ph.D., couldn't do. She had been there and done that so many times even Daring-Do was jealous.
“'They offered her alifornication, but she said no. A horn would only cramp her flying style. She was two tons of dynamite in a sleek, ninety-pound frame, and she had the pepper to prove it. But the spite of her many great qualities had given her a very big heart, and she spent every day thinking about how she could spread her awesomeness to ponies who weren't as awesome. She was talked about by others as the most selfless and brave mare who ever lived, ever.'”
The faces of everypony else in the room were a study in the myriad ways a pony could express revulsion: Pinkie's jaw hung slack and open at the audacity of what she was hearing; Rarity lay over the legrest, on the verge of passing out from shock; stoic Applejack had grit in her eye while sitting and abiding by the torment; terrified Fluttershy had wormed her way under a couch cushion, as if she could escape by becoming part of the furniture; and finally, Twilight Sparkle just shook her head and sighed every five seconds at the literary sins being committed.
Grinning broadly to herself, oblivious to the torment of her captive audience, Dash plunged onward into the thick forest of tangled prose. “'Quick as a flash of thunder, she flied through Canterlot city. Ponies everywhere stopped what they were doing and waved and cheered for that mighty mare who plowed the skies so greatly. Before she came into them, their lives were so gray and sorry. But, like her super amazing skills at clearing away clouds, she put a little sun in their dull little lives with her magnahogany gift for helping, and now they all loved her gadfly for it.'”
Dash frowned at the manuscript.
“Oops, that's a typo. It should be 'gladly'.”
“A typo?” Fluttershy whimpered.
Applejack set her empty teacup aside and took a swig right from the cider bottle. She passed the half-empty bottle to Twilight, who took it gratefully.
“'As Spectral shot by she winked at Green Gummie, the second-best part party planner in Equestria. After Spectral, of course. Gummie's business was throwing parties to celebrate Rush helping ponies, and it was very, very successful, because being saved by Spectral was an occasional to remember forever.'”
Twilight returned the bottle. Applejack raised it to her lips and knocked it back, but nothing came out. It was empty. She scowled at Twilight, who covered her mouth as she let out a tiny hiccup.
“'Then she zoomed past Pearshaped, a humble farmer that Spectral often had to help out, because her luck often went as bad as a cadet trying to pull off a loop-de-loop--'”
“Rainbow Dash,” Rarity said in a strained voice, “while this worldbuilding is very, very lovely, perhaps you could skip to the story? It's what the world is waiting for, after all.”
“But I haven't even gotten to the medal ceremony yet,” Rainbow protested. “Or when she helps some foals by acting in their school play and gets offered the lead in a Bridleway musical by a passing theater writer. Or when her super-amazing guitar solo makes Lord Tirek realize the beauty of life and pull a Discord.”
“Is all that really, truly necessary?” Fluttershy asked.
“These are all important charactizing moments. They tell you exactly what kind of pony Spectral Rush is.”
“Oh, Ah reckon we all got it good by now,” Applejack said.
“Burn your darlings,” Twilight said, reeling around and rocking tipsily. “I mean, kill them. Kill your darlings. Not burn. Burning books is bad. Mostly. Hee hee....” She turned to Applejack and whispered, “Got any more cider?”
“'Fraid not, sugarcube,” Applejack said frostily.
“Ugh, fine,” Rainbow Dash said. She flipped to the next page. And then the next one. And then another, and another, and another. “Here it is. Ahem. 'On the morning ponies were asking about, she prolifically dashed through the clouds while her genius head thought up both a cure for the common cold and a killer guitar solo for her next album. But a little bird flapped beside her, and out of true sympathetico for a fellow winger she met its speed.'”
In a strained, high-pitched voice, Dash said, “'“At:SpectralRush We need your help!”
“'Down below, a pony was in need, and Spectral Rush brought the speed! She zipped to help, and her strong and sleek body, which had pepper to spare, blasted through the clouds on her way to them.
“'Meanwhile, Mylar Speckle argued voraciferly, “We need to hunt down and arrest all Changelings because they are evil. They are a very big threat to our safety.”
“'Fluffershorn said back, “The Changelings were following their queen. That means not that they're evil, but following orders.”
“'Mylar Speckle scoffed like somepony put a plate of buttered toast in front of her and she hated buttered toast. “Everypony has the choice to not follow orders that are stupid and evil.”
“'Fluffershorn was undetermined by Mylar's arguing. “I think your ideas are stupid and evil.”
“'“It doesn't matter, shut up and follow them anyway!”
“'Fluffershorn stood up bravely. “I will not, because they speak against these things I hold truly to myself and my heart.”
“'“You're wrong, and ruin our nation by not wanting Changelings arrested!”
“'Just then, two hindlegs coiled with so much power kicked the door off its hinges! And in the doorway stood the one and the only Spectral Rush! Dazzling! Graceful! Fearless!'”
“Repetitive,” Applejack said.
Rainbow Dash continued, “'“Have no fear, Captain Spectral Rush, Ph.D. is here!” the mare in questing said. “What seems to be issued here?”'” The voice she used for her main character was oddly similar to her regular voice, except slightly more emphatic.
“'“Thank Celestia you're here,” Mylar said. “Fluffershorn says she might be a Changeling, the new race which as you know appeared from nowhere and attacked us very not long ago, as a way of getting into my brain. All Changelings need to be arrested. So I need to know if we should arrest Fluffershorn.”
“'Spectral Rush gave the pegasus a piercing intelligent look, her noble brow and proud, statue-like muzzle making her seem like a very old statue from the Pegaponnese.
“'“What proof have you that she is what she says she is?” Spectral Rush asked.
“'“Her words,” Mylar said.
“'“No!” Spectral Rush cried wisely. “Words can lie.”
“'“But if words can lie,” Mylar said in languish, “how can we ever know when they are not being used to lie?”
“'“Smart thinking!” Spectral Rush said in reproval. “I use it to solve many problems in my adventures. For now we must turn to.... cyclic-ology! The study of things buried in the pony brain, like a sandwich left in a corner gets covered with dust and mold.”
“'“Your smartness is known all over Equestria, Captain Spectral Rush,” Mylar Speckle said. “Please solve this condrum for us.”
“'“Fluffershorn!” Spectral Rush said. “Answer: If you aren't a Changeling, why say you are?”
“'Fluffershorn said, “If I was a regular pony my close work with animals has made me pathetic to pain. I don't hate the different, and wish others would not neither.”
“'“Hmm, very noble. But if you are a Changeling, why mention such?”
“'“If I was a Changeling, ponies might find out. I am asking to know if it's safe to tell my friends and not get arrested. I would be a good Changeling, and not steal love. I will not say which I am, because Mylar's racism disturbs me.”
“'“Mylar, because of your racism, you were blind to Fluffershorn's emotions. She is a friend, and will not steal love like the attacking Changelings.”
“'“But you said words lie,” Mylar said.
“'“They do. But true or false words can hit....the unconscience!” Spectral Rush's nimbus body twisted around. An inch from Fluffershorn's face, she shouted, “Changelings are digusting and we should all stomp them like bugs!”
“'Her eyes keenly looked over Fluffershorn's face. Then she faced Mylar and pounded her ex, “If Fluffershorn--”' Oops, another typo. That should be 'pounded her axe'. They weren't, like, dating or anything.”
“Shouldn't it be 'ground her axe'?” Applejack asked.
“No,” Twilight said sharply. “It should be 'expounded'.”
Dash pointed at her. “That's the one.” She hastily scribbled on her manuscript, then resumed: “'“If Fluffershorn was a Changeling, she would have emotioned to my harsh words. For emotions are not under our control! That's why they are in motion.
“'“Another! Changelings are super cute and we should all hug them and kiss them!” She peeped closely into Fluffershorn's face, but it performed no more emotion than the first shocking saying. Spectral Rush said, “Nothing! She's not a Changeling after all. Or she is very good at hiding it. One more!” She reached into her saddlebag. Inside were all things that came in useful. She pulled out a shiny black dagger and showed it to Fluffershorn. “Do you like it?”
“'“It is very shiny,” Fluffershorn said.
“'“Ha! It is made from Changeling scara-mush!”
“'Fluffershorn put hooves over her shocked mouth. “How could you?” she squeaked.
“'“Do you see! She is a Changeling!” Mylar said. “This proves well.”
“'But Spectral Rush was not so sure. “Hmm,” she said. “I am not so sure. This could be the very kindness for animals which we love about her.”'”
“Wait,” Fluttershy asked, “if they only found out about Changelings when they attacked Canterlot, how can she have a dagger made from a Changeling's carapace? Also, ew.”
“Well, obviously....” Dash said. She paused to collect her thoughts. “It was a bluff. Yeah. It's just, um, obsided....observion....”
“Obsidian,” her five friends chorused.
“Yeah, that. Lemme just put in a note to explain that better.” She casually bent over the manuscript and started scribbling. Under her breath, she mumbled, “A bluff. Dagger made from obsidian.” She stood up again. “Ahem. Where were we?”
“Near the end?” Rarity asked hopefully.
“'“It is a parent, and maybe even a child too, that if Fluffershorn is a Changeling, she is a good actress. We need better ways to tell! I know for a fact--”'” Dash's eyes flitted up to her friends, then the quill came out once more. “'“--I have theory-sized some new ideas that Changelings, that feed on love, would be natural enemies of....sirens, that feed on discord!”'”
Applejack said, “Hey, that's not a bad idea.” She shrugged. “Fer Dash.”
“Eh, it's been done,” Twilight said.
“'Spectral Rush held up a record out of her bag. “I have....a recording of siren songs!”'”
“How did she--?” Applejack asked. “Aw, why'm Ah even askin'?”
“'“It is my theory a Changeling's unconscience will react badly to siren songs, for a siren is its predator and it will want to flee.”'”
Fluttershy nodded appreciatively. “That's....fairly accurate to real life, actually."
“'Swaggering with confidence, Spectral Rush put the record on the sound system and started it. A earthy-real wail came out! She looked to Fluffershorn. Her heart pounded in her chest as she wondered what she would see....!
“'Nothing! Fluffershorn was just the same as she always was.'” Dash's voice dropped into a lower register, like she was regaling terrified foals around the campfire. “'But....she was looking....in the wrong direction! For when she turned around, the Changeling was Mylar Speckle!'”
Twilight blinked in surprise. “That was....unexpected."
“'The siren song made Mylar Speckle wriggle in pain and cover her ears. All at once, Spectral Rush's muscular mind muscles brained onto the answer: she didn't know she was a Changeling at all! A few goo mansion--'”
“A what?!” Rarity asked. “A few good what?”
“A few goo mansion,” Dash said insistently. “Lemme tell the story, alright? 'A few goo mansion had taken away everything. It controlled her body and mind so she didn't know what she was doing. It was inside her all times, and made her do things.'”
The five members of her audience looked to one another with a variety of confounded expressions, trying to puzzle out what Rainbow Dash was talking about.
“'The few goo mansion made Mylar act racist,'” Dash continued, “'because it didn't want her to get found out and arrested.'”
“Rainbow, Ah ain't got one goshdurn clue what yer on about,” Applejack said. “A....few goo mansion?”
“Ask Twilight. I read about it one of her magazines.”
“I'm as clueless as the rest of you,” Twilight said.
Rainbow Dash stared down at her manuscript. “Maybe it wasn't mansion. Actually, I think it was....manor? No, estate! That was it.”
“Few goo estate?” Twilight asked. “A few. Goo. Estate? A few--” Then her jaw dropped open in disbelief. “Rainbow Dash, do you mean a fugue state?!”
“Oh, is that how you say it?” Rainbow asked.
Rarity slapped her forehoof into her face three times in rapid succession. Pinkie Pie groaned and, ramrod-straight, fell sideways onto the couch cushions. Fluttershy shook her head slowly from side to side.
As Dash made her corrections, Twilight sidled up beside Applejack and knocked her friend in the side. “Y'know,” she said, “this is actually kind of interesting. It's like when she flies, how she picks up everything around her subconsciously. When she breezes through life, she picks up bits of information, bits of stories, bits of vocabulary, but they just sit in her unconscious in a jumble. She doesn't have the first clue how to use them properly.”
"An' she's a mite too headstrong ta take advice 'bout it," Applejack added.
Dash continued in Spectral Rush's -- that is to say, her own -- voice: “'“Mylar, your....fugue state.... has made you racist because you don't want to be arrested.”
“'“No!” Mylar shouted. “Changelings are evil and I am not. Thisly, I cannot be a Changeling.”
“'“You are!”
“'“Are not!”
“'“Are too!”
“'“Are not too!”
“'“Accept my words!”
“'“Never! Words lie! Changelings are evil!”
“'“Mylar,” Spectral Rush said, “the world is not so black and white as that.”
“'“I'll make it that black and white!”
“'“Mylar turned on her horn. It glowed green, like every other Changeling. She sprayed magic around the room and turned everything mono-cream.”
“'“See?!” Mylar said. “It's all black and white now!”
“'“No, it is not,” Spectral Rush said boldly. She went to the window, threw the curtains back, and showed nighttime Canterlot. “For you see, the world is so big you could never make it all black and white!”
“'“Nooooo!” Mylar shouted.
“'She galloped out the door like a pony who waited all night for the new Daring-Do book to come out, only to find out the last one was sold to the pony right in front of her in line.'”
Flatly, Rarity said, “Why, Rainbow, what a stunningly apt and universally recognizable simile.”
“Yeah,” Dash said, “it took a lot of time and deep soul-looking to come up with it, but I think it has some neat emotional resoundance. 'Spectral Rush was never able to let a pony in need down, even if that pony wasn't a pony. She dashed out the window after Mylar and found her running through the streets and yelling at all the ponies.
“'“You're a Changeling, aren't you? You want to take over our city. Festering in secret, trying to destroy us! Well, I'll expose you. I'll expose you all! With words!”
“'“Help us, Spectral Rush!” ponies said when her glorious wings flapped overhead. “She's gone crazy!”
“'Spectral Rush landed on the street, but she did not move. “I'm afraid I cannot help you, good citizens. For I am loyal to Equestria! And in Equestria, we are oblitigated to let ponies say stuff that's crazy racist, even though we don't like it. That's the price of being free.”
“'Mylar's mane was in this array. Her eyes were crazy. She grabbed a bookselling pony and whispered, “Will you print my story about them lurking in our colleges and ruining our nation with stupid and evil ideas about civil libraries?!”
“'The bookseller asked Spectral Rush for her wisdom. “Are we oblitigated to print the crazy racist stuff they say?”
“'“Heck no,” Spectral Rush said.
“'“You're all conspiraling against me,” Mylar scowled. “You want me to seem crazy so you can shut me up and take over, but I am truth! I see through lies!”
“'“She sprayed her magic all over the street and turned things either black or white. She cackled insanely. She chased after ponies because of her paranerd thoughts. "You'll never shut me up,” she screamed.
“'Fluffershorn stood next to the brave and wise Spectral Rush. They watched city guards grab Mylar Speckle and drag her away to jail for causing a commotion. Spectral Rush didn't move because of the very big sadness in her heart at how her friend had gone so wrong.
“'“No, don't arrest me!” Mylar shouted. “Arrest them! They're the Changelings!”
“'“How ironic,” Spectral Rush said, her cutting thoughts cutting to the heart of the great ironies that swam round her in her going through life. “The very thing Mylar Speckle wanted to do to others is the very thing that undid her in the end. And to think, this all started with a simple hyper-threatical question. But sometimes those are the hardest of them all to answer at all.”
“'“That's so sad, but so wise,” Fluffershorn said.
“'“Life usually is, my friend. Life usually is.”
“'But the sun was rising and a new day started. A new day with more ponies to help. Even if it was themselves they needed help with. For while Captain Spectral Rush, Ph.D., flapped her graceful wings and flied up into the sky, she reminded herself of her mission: to help all ponies, great or large, until there was never a problem in Equestria ever again. That was why she was best hero who ever lived. No, it was not her sleek and elite flying moves, or her breaking every speed record known to ponies, or her world-famous guitar shredding skills, or her effort in curing all those diseases, or her skill with mighty, mighty kicks. As formable as all those things were, they were not why she was a hero. She was a hero....because of her true and blue hero's heart.'”
Rainbow Dash finished reading, nodded solemnly to punctuate her parting words, and closed her manuscript. The crackling fire and the crickets making their symphony through the windowpanes were the only sounds. Silence reigned in the crystal castle's study. Mostly because everypony aside from Rainbow Dash was stunned into silence. Rarity's lips were twisted in an aghast scowl, Pinkie was shell-shocked and rocked back and forth on the couch cushions, Fluttershy shivered under them, Applejack just stared vacantly, and Twilight stewed in her spot, her head bowed.
“So!” Dash said, brightening up and grinning at her circle of friends. “Who's going to be the first to tell me how awesome my story is? Don't be shy now!"
“I think it's fascinating,” Twilight, still buzzed from the cider, said as she raised her head.
Rainbow Dash beamed, while the other four just chorused, “Huh?”
Twilight gesticulated clumsily, but energetically, as she spoke. “It's like, it's like, I've got a story, and you write a story about that story, right? And then she -- Rainbow Dash -- writes another story based on that story. And it's like, there's a whole....chain linking them all together. A great web, even. You've got one text, two texts, three texts, but it's not just about the textuality of those texts it's-it's-it's about a kind of intertextuality.”
“Kind of....reading between the text?” Rarity asked.
“You mean,” Pinkie Pie said as she slowly grasped the idea, “a conversation, but with stories?”
Twilight pointed at her with one forehoof while touching the other to her muzzle. But then she started to topple over and had to put her legs down to support herself. Haltingly, she continued, "Each, um, each author brings something new to the dialectic with their text. Adding, and adding, and adding. Building on each others' opinions and thoughts and feelings. Y-you know?"
The smile slowly fell off Rainbow Dash's face. “Uh, guys? What about my story?"
Twilight sputtered as the cider hazed her brain. She settled into a slump against the couch back. "W-well, it's-it's definitely Rainbow Dash. It has a certain 'Rainbow Dash'-ness to it. It adds that quality of you to the, um, the dialectic. It's most certainly a Rainbow Dash Production."
Applejack was visibly excited as she leapt into the discussion. “So all'a these here different stories, they all got sumthin' ta say, and what they say as a whole adds up ta a whole 'nother thing than if'n they'd just been standin' all by their lonesome? Well, boy howdy, as a pony who's raised a barn or two in mah time, Ah should know good and proper how important a solid foundation is.”
“Hello?” Rainbow called. “Guys?”
But the other five were engrossed in the circle of conversation they had formed.
“It's-it's like,” Twilight said, “meaning builds upon meaning, through all these d-d-different texts. They need to come one after the other, because they all learn something from each other or disagree with each other. The authors, I mean. The authors disagree with other authors. I'm not suggesting the text literally comes alive. Well, expect for that one time when the Bookworm got loose....”
Shuffling from one hoof to the other, Rainbow asked, “So, do you think I can send it in as-is?”
“It's like how we all help each other learn to be better friends,” Fluttershy said, “because of our own unique personalities and lives? How we all come together in the spirit of harmony and friendship and love? Add up to something greater?”
“That's brilliant, Fluttershy!” Twilight said. “See the things we come up with when we all put our heads together?”
The five of them shared a laugh, and then leapt once more into their hearty and heady conversation.
Rainbow Dash asked, “Guys....?”
In the next room, Spike settled sideways into his chair, one of his legs casually thrown up on the legrest, and rolled his eyes. "Those girls seriously need something new to read," he muttered to himself. "It's so boring, just rehashing the same thing over and over again."
He cracked open the next issue of his comic book, excited to see if issue #717 would be the one where the red-headed colt finally decided if he wanted to go steady with the blonde or the raven-maned filly.
