Author's Note

Ok;

1) This based off of MAS, if you're not familiar with it or its characters, please go watch it before reading, or just don't read *shrug*

2) Initial events are centered around a less tragic version of the events of "Rainbow Dash Presents: Bittersweet"

3) A lot of times my stories on here are heavily dialogue-driven, mainly in fanfics it seems to be because I know readers are already familiar with the visual scenery, so I don't really fluff the story. I assure you my actual (original stories/works) writing is more balanced.

Unexpected Crap

Everypony but Pinkie Pie stood around the Ponyville hospital lobby as Applejack finally walked in.

“Alright now, what’s all this fuss ah heard from Applebloom about Rainbow Dash telling everypony they need to get to the hospital as fast they can?” She asked, walking up to the closest two of her supposed-friends: the typically self-absorbed Rarity, examining one of her own hooves, and a clearly aggravated Twilight pacing around out of boredom.

Twilight stopped herself when to respond to Applejack. “It’s Rainbow Dash being stupid. That’s literally all it is, is her being stupid, and Pinkie being even more stupid. Not that that’s out-of-character for either of them in any way but still.”

“Ah’m aware of our friends’ character flaws, sugarcube,” Applejack responded, “but ah’m asking how exactly they brought us all here?”

Twilight sighed into the requested explanation. “Alright so basically, the Pink schizto evidently has Diabetes. She would be fine if she just took the insulin shots she was prescribed, like every other pony with Diabetes, but instead she decided that she was going to die as some kind of martyr against the establishment. So according to Dash she ate something like three tubs of ice cream, and then the symptoms started coming on, and then I guess she didn’t wanna actually suffer the slow death of ketoacidosis so she told Dash to roll her off a bridge.”

“And she did?” Applejack asked, almost sounding as if she really needed the confirmation.

“This is the same pony who thought it was a brilliant idea to sell tickets to the Gala to get enough money buy dresses to wear to the Gala,” Twilight reminded her, “do you really even need to ask a question that stupid?”

Applejack gave her a half-hearted glare as she answered again. “Yeah, well sometimes Ah like to at least pretend that there might be some kinda hope or prospect for rational thought or somethin, but ah guess that kinda thinkin’s always gonna be naïve on my part.”

“It’s not that that kind of thinking’s comepletely naïve,” Twilight corrected the Earth Pony, “it’s that you’re talking about DASH and PINKIE! One’s the definition of circular idiocy, and the other’s some kind of prodigal incarnation of unhinged insanity!”

“Fools!” A new, and to the both of them, disturbingly familiar voice cried out from somewhere nearby. They both turned themselves about in time to see Pinkie being wheeled through on a hospital stretcher. “How dare you think to mock Pinkie in her absence! Yes, she’s sees how—“ Pinkie’s speech ceased abruptly, replaced by her vocalizing the wave of pain coming over her entire body. “Raaggh, ngh, the Pinkie is . . . in agony! Yes. Agents of the corrupted system of medicinal oppression, give Pinkie Morphine!” She shouted at the medical personnel around her.

“No!” Twilight snapped. “The only thing anypony should be giving you is a dose of Cyanide!”

More than a few of the hospital personnel’s heads were drawn to Twilight after her statement, with the most alert looks coming from the lone security stallion and the stallion behind the drug counter.

“Ugh, seriously Twilight?” Rarity finally began making a contribution the conversation. “I have no idea whatever you said is, but why in your right mind would you want them to waste it on her? We all know she’s just going to end up killing herself somehow eventually; I mean this little Diabetes episode was close enough.”

A cackle of short laughs came out of the incapacitated pink pony nearby, regaining her friends’ direct attention. “Your attempt was WEAK! Yes. The Pinkie has defeated your Diabetes!”

“No,” Twilight still corrected her, even knowing how pointless it was likely to be, “you barely survived this one episode of Ketoacidosis! Diabetes is permanent condition you retarded mudhorse. Even if you actually decided to do something smart for the first time in your life and take treatments for your own condition, you’d just be suppressing something’s still there. I mean you’d be able to still eat whatever you want w— well I’d say within reason but I know you’re about as far from reason as a pony can get without being mentally impaired.”

“Fool!” Pinkie’s hoof erupted from its former position of cradling her stomach, lurching out to point at Twilight. “The Pinkie knows of your collaboration with the yellow one in this futile attempt at her undoing! Yes!”

One of the nurses forced the pink pony’s hoof back down, which only drew her accusatory criticism from the diabetic Pinkie.

Twilight didn’t bother to pay attention to the dialogue, since it had nothing to do with her. She almost wanted to leave, but there was something . . . some aggravating, deep-seated obligation inside her that seemed to keep her there. Maybe it was some obligatory feeling that her presence there somewhat reduced the level of stupid that would otherwise flood the place. Or maybe it was just a coincidental convergence of neural stimuli on her pre-frontal cortex from multiple excitatory Thalmic and Hypothalmic axon pathways . . . or both, since one literally was the other.

“I’m sorry,” Fluttershy spoke out for the first time in her pathetic, nasally voice, “I didn’t really know what was going on until I got here, but, I know it’s probably my fault.”

“What are you doing here?” Twilight spun around to face the pathetic yellow Pegasus behind her.

“. . . I don’t know,” Fluttershy answered, “Rainbow Dash came to my house screaming about how I needed to come with her to the hospital, so I followed her here. But, I guess there’s not really a reason for me to be here bec—“

“You know, whatever, it’s a public space so I guess I don’t care.” Twilight dismissed her before she’d even finished speaking. “Just stop butting into things that don’t involve you.”

“Ok.” Fluttershy accepted her predestined defeat and just returned to staring down at her own hooves.

Finally Twilight actually turned to Rainbow Dash, who was all but hyperventilating nearby. “So, ahh, how are you holding up, I guess?” Twilight asked, trying to sound at least mildly concerned.

“This is all my fault! I rolled Pinkie off that bridge when she told me to! I didn’t even stop her from eating all that ice cream before she made me take her out there!” Rainbow spat out through something caught halfway between crying and panicking. “And now she’s gonna die and it’s all because I’m the worst pony! I’m the dumbest horse!”

“Ugh! Seriously? Dash have not gotten the memo by now after you’ve been sitting right here? She’s not gonna die, she’s in a fricking hospital and they’ve literally already stabilized her!” Twilight only ended up snapping at the blue Pegasus.

“Twilight,” Rarity drew Twilight’s attention again, “I’ve had this conversation about the size of Dash’s brain before.”

“Yeah, I know—“

“Excuse me.” A stallion’s voice suddenly cut off Twilight’s response, and they both looked to see a grey Pegasus stallion standing behind her. Twilight turned about with a raised eyebrow, wondering what he wanted, at least for a second until she realized their whole little group was clogging up a decent chunk of the small hospital’s lobby and probably blocking a few convenient paths.

“Ah, sorry.” She said to him, blandly.

“S’fine.” The stallion replied, walking past her and Rarity up to the Pharmacy counter after they’d moved out of the way.

“So wait, Twilight?” Rainbow Dash spoke up again before Rarity and Twilight could resume their own conversation.

“What?” The purple mare’s response was simple.

“So, if she really is gonna be alright then does that mean I’m not gonna get in any kinda trouble?” Dash asked.

Twilight sighed and rolled her eyes slowly as she began answering. “That’s completely up to Pinkie since you did push her off a bridge. But sewing you is a legal process that involves a lot interaction with the court system, and I’m pretty even you know Pinkie’s attitude towards the government.”

“Foolish Pegasus!” Pinkie’s new outburst drew the attention of the entire lobby again, friends and strangers alike. “You think you have fooled us, yes, but Pinkie knows! Yes! She knows you conspire with the yellow one! You are the agent who exalts her will!” The newly-diabetic pony had nearly lurched up from her stretcher to point her hoof about with her accusations, which only left the nurses and EMT ponies wheeling her stretcher to struggle trying to force her back down.

“We need a sedative here!” One of the nurses finally ended up calling out to the Pharmacy department across the lobby.

An aggravated sigh came from the pony behind the drug counter, and he told the grey Pegasus who’d just passed them to wait for a minute while he went to go prep a sedative injection for Pinkie. The Pegasus stallion turned around in the meantime to actually take in the scene with slightly raised eyebrows. Even though the attention from him and everypony else in the lobby wasn’t being directly aimed at her, Twilight was still beginning to feel more than uncomfortable with it.

“Pinkie!” She demanded her supposed friend’s attention. “Everyone in this place is looking at us, for once in your stupid life will either just shut up or drop dead?”

A groan came from the semi-restrained pink pony as an episode of pain visibly set in. “How dare you mock Pinkie in her hour of agony?” Was the response Twilight got.

“I mock you every minute of your existence that we’re forced to interact together,” Twilight answered, “why would you care about me doing it now?”

Pinkie somehow managed to chuckle through her agony. “Pinkie knows you only insult her to bring about sexual tension.” She told Twilight in her semi-sinister voice, painfully laughing it over again.

“YOU . . .” Twilight couldn’t even articulate any kind of response. Truth be told, there wasn’t even any that anypony honestly could have made, not to the functional psychopath lying on that stretcher. She only managed to at least mutter out some of her thoughts as she watched the pharmacy pony pass her by. “Accidental overdose, please . . .” She let out under her breath, watching the pony walk up to the stretcher and inject the sedative into Pinkie Pie’s I.V. line.

“Your vile substances shall be of no avail!” Pinkie shouted as her sedating injection was given. “Pinkie will not succumb to your pathetic attempts to subdue her, yes! And she has marked you ALL for retribution! Yes! You shall all pay for your transgressions, even those who think themselves innocent!” Her explosive threat-ranting ended with her pointing her hoof out at the Pegasus stallion who’d been left waiting at the prescription counter.

Twilight’s hoof smashed into her own face at Pinkie’s threatening of random ponies, ponies that didn’t know she was just full of crap. “Alright that—that’s just enough! Please! Stop! Make your little schitzo threats at me, I don’t care; I know you’re full of crap! Random ponies don’t!” She pointed at the grey Pegasus now, trying drill in her angry, pleading point to pink earth pony, even knowing it was pointless. “They’ve actually been granted the fortune I dream about, and have never had to interact with you, so when they’re seeing how loose you really are in the head and you start making threats, they are GOING to take them SERIOUSLY!”

“Yes . . .” Pinkie’s response started with an intensity that died very quickly the sedative clearly began shutting her down, “fa . . . f-fear the Pinkie . . . yes . . .” And down she went finally, her head someone how making a clunking sound when it hit the pillow beneath it.

Twilight kept watching the scene surrounding that pink thing’s stretcher, waiting for somepony to yell out that she was flat-lining, but her hopes came to no fruition. The science that was always saving and providing the foundation for her sanity was only backfiring on her this time; three milliliters of a benzodiazepine was only going to do what three milliliters was capable of.

“Heartrate’s finally decreasing,” one of the nurses on the side of Pinkie’s stretchers said to the other staff around her, “she’s back under 100 bpm, blood pressure’s down to 125 over 87.” As she was speaking, the one doctor accompanying the stretcher opened each of Pinkie’s eyes and shined a small pocket flashlight over them for a second each. “No reaction,” he said, “she’s out. Wheel her over to I.C.U, and GET the restraints on.” The nurses and EMTs left with their orders and the temporarily unconscious Pinkie Pie.

Twilight was finally able to expel a groaning sigh, fueled by exactly what it sounded like: a perfect, boiling mixture of both relief and lingering frustration.

WHY was everypony around her so STUPID!?

“Well,” Applejack said, “if this little . . . whatever’s all said n done with, Ah’m headin back to the farm.”

“Indeed,” Rarity followed suit, “no that I know that the group psychopath is going to be confined here for what might hopefully be at least a few days, I’m going to go take advantage of time while can before she’s out gets back to her usual ways.”

A few seconds passed by in hospital-silence. Bubble—spritefly or whoever that yellow Pegasus was said something to Dash but then Dash just ended up taking over her. Twilight didn’t honestly care, she’d had her fill of stupid . . . for the month . . . even though she knew living in Ponyville meant practically swimming in it.

“Well, that was interesting.” A stallion’s voice suddenly said from close by.

Twilight turned herself about to see the grey Pegasus from earlier standing pretty much where Rarity had been, a few steps to Twilight’s left. “Huh? Oh, yeah . . .” she started saying, “no, it’s . . . not really. She’s insane. I mean, like, she’s clinically insane.”

“No, really?” The stallion didn’t even add any sarcasm, he actually just spoke completely flat, which in way easily came off much stronger than simple sarcasm would’ve.

“Do you not live here?” Twilight asked, coming off as incredulous as she felt at somepony actually not knowing about the pink cashier that worked at Sugercube Corner. “Have you not like, ever seen her or had to deal with her before?”

“No I live here,” the stallion told her, “I’m just kind of always inside writing, or passed out. I only really go out to either get food or come here for this.” He paused for a second in his speaking to show prescription bottle he held between the feathers of one wing. “So ha-I don’t exactly go around meeting everypony in town. Plus I’m a Pegasus so I can kind of do that thing where, you know, I beat my wings and they push air down and the displacement creates lift so I can fly . . . n’at least feel separate from everything for while.”

“Wait,” Twilight sounded surprised, as she was, “you . . . actually comprehend the physical reason why you can fly? Like you actually get the—at least the basic mechanics of it?”

“Yeah, it’s not hard—oh,” he suddenly shifted his tone, and his next words came out extremely snide, “sorry, I forgot, I’m not a unicorn so I’m not supposed to be smart.”

Twilight hadn’t exactly expected that kind of response. “What?” She said. “No, that’s—that’s not what I’m getting at, or what I meant. Agh, look,” she cringed for instant and shook her head, “I’m surrounded by idiocy. I’m not used, for the most part, to ponies who actually have some kind of legitimate train of cognitive thought.” She suddenly stopped to quickly look around, seeing if Rainbow Dash was still there. Seeing that she was, Twilight went on with the idea that had come to her. “Here, look.” She said to the stallion and then turned in Rainbow’s direction. “Hey! Dash, come here!” She ordered the cyan mare, who stood up and came over right away.

“Hey Twilight! What’s up?” Dash asked a naïve enthusiasm that had apparently already overridden the guilt she’d been wrought with only minutes ago.

“Hey, how do you fly?” Twilight asked. “I mean like what lets you fly, and all pegasi for that matter?”

“Oh,” Dash started answering, and every set of words grew more dimwitted than the last, “well, I always guessed it was cause of some kind’a magic. Like-like yours, except different, you know, for pegasi! It’s like we have feathers instead of horns or something, and-and we have a lot of em! So we have a lot of wing magic, or something like that. And I always figured the reason I fly so fast is because of my mane. I mean, light’s like supposed to be the fastest thing, right? And my mane’s rainbow, and I’m not sure but I think I heard somewhere that rainbows are the fastest kind’a light!”

“Ok, ok Dash that’s good, go . . . go back over and hang out with Bumblefly or whoever the yellow girl was you were talking to.” Twilight dismissed her.

“Oh, her name’s Fluttershy.” Dash tried to say.

“Ok, whatever, now go back over there and make her feel like she has friends or something.” Twilight repeated the dismissal.

“Ok!” Dash obeyed, ever-brimming with the same naïve enthusiasm as always.

“There. See?” Twilight said to the grey stallion after turning back to him.

The stallion was left simply looking hollow, with an unblinking, dead expression. All his motivation for living life might as well have just been drained away by the degree of stupidity he just witnessed.

Twilight recognized the reaction easily, or lack thereof. It was a kind she wished she could see in ponies more often, since it was usually a giveaway of at least some level of intelligence greater than a rock.

“You know, I’m really not good at expressing emotions.” The stallion finally spoke. “So, it’s probably not really obvious right now, but I actually feel a lot of empathy . . . for you . . . that . . .” He couldn’t even finish the sentence, still staring out blankly into space.

“Yeah, I know.” Twilight said, glancing back at Dash for second. “It’s . . . yeah, thanks, I guess. And congratulations on your . . . you know, solitude or whatever. I’m not lucky enough to actually get that kind of choice.”

That statement drew the stallion’s attention, and eye contact, expression somewhat breaking its staleness to show a degree of curiosity.

Twilight rolled her eyes as she began her brief explanation of her immediate life circumstance. “I have royal decree issued about me, ME specifically, dictating that I’m not permitted by the government to live as a shut-in. Celestia’s literally ordered me to be friends with everypony, and I really, just can’t put enough personal stress on the word FRIENDS.”

“Um . . .” The stallion might have said something, or rather asked, but only stopped when Twilight produced a copy of the actual decree from Celestia of which she spoke, at which the pegasus’s eyes slowly inflated.

“Yeah,” Twilight said, drawing the decree back and putting it away, “I don’t even know. She thinks it’s funny or something . . . just like all the other stuff she did—never mind, you don’t wanna here about that. So yeah, I’ve literally been ordered by the government to come live in this stupid little hamlet and make a bunch of friends.” She stopped, at least for a moment, until she realized something she felt compelled to add. “And don’t even try to tell me it’s village! It’s a hamlet!”

“Ahaha-ha—ha, no, please I’m not about to try defend this place or anything.” The stallion actually agreed, much to Twilight’s surprise. “Seriously I—I have to come here to get my prescriptions,” he pointed a hoof at the hospital’s pharmacy counter, “they don’t even have just a regular pharmacy in town.”

Twilight jumped on with her own remarks to add. “Ha, yeah and if there was the pharmacists would probably live there since everypony in Ponyville literally runs their business out of their house.”

“Ahh, if you consider writing a business though, then I’m kind of just as guilty of that.” The stallion admitted with some audible reluctance.

“So?” Twilight’s response was instant. “So am I. I live in the town library. Being guilty of what you’re making a point about doesn’t disprove your point when your point is that everypony is guilty of it. Seriously that only serves as evidence in favor of your argument. Hypocrisy only holds any legitimacy when you’re trying to convince somepony not to do something because it’s either morally wrong or stupid.”

The small bit of guilt that had initially appeared on the stallion’s face began vanishing quickly. “Yeah, but I’m . . . just not used to most ponies not seeing it that way.” He told her.

“Yeah, well most ponies are reactionary idiots.” Twilight responded.

It at actually somehow made him feel more at ease, almost sounding as if she was speaking in his defense. He thought he might have commented on what she’d said previously, but then a question suddenly popped into his mind. “Wait, we have a library here?” He asked.

She raised a single eyebrow back at him, although it dropped after her first words. “You didn’t—you didn’t know that? Oh, wait, yeah-haha, forgot: how could you possibly have heard about it from anypony in a town full literary degenerates who probably haven’t read since they dropped out of school in the 2nd grade.” She said, looking away with a mild, snarky grin.

The stallion’s head tilted a little bit when he answered back this time. “Uh, they did finish school you know. Most of them.”

“Barely.” Twilight remarked. “Ponyville’s schooling system was amended to consider a D to be a passing grade. Or else according to the school board’s statistics the graduation rate for our little hamlet would have been 40% instead the 70% it’s already down at.”

“W-you’re sure it’s that low?” The stallion asked. It didn’t necessarily sound like doubt, more just like a lack of desire to believe.

“What? Yeah,” Twilight confirmed her own point, “it’s—this is actual statistics from the regional school board; I’m not just pulling it outta my ass. Besides, I can’t stand it when ponies do that anyways. I’m . . . one of those . . . annoying, data-driven types. I’m always gonna be citing real statistics.” She ended up explaining herself, her head slowly falling towards the end.

The stallion’s face remained emotionally flat in expression, true to what he’d said earlier. However, the downward tone of Twilight’s partial self-description internally left him feeling a pang of sympathy. He felt the compulsion to try and say something, though he halted himself at first, as the first thing that came to mind was way-to generic and formatted of a response to come off in any way sincere, let alone from him. No, he had to think . . . there!

“Yeah, no real statistics are nice.” The stallion finally said, causing Twilight’s head to lift back up with an expression of mild surprise as he went on. “My fantasies about my book sales are nice, but i—t’s k-hahind of the actual numbers from reality that determine what I get paid.”

Twilight’s very demeanor brightened by the smallest fraction at the positive response she received. Finally, a response to anything math-related that wasn’t a display of stupidity on the part of the other pony, or simply resorting to calling mathematics itself “pointless”.

“Huh, oh yeah, you said you write stuff or something,” Twilight remembered, “I’m assuming fiction?”

A quick nod and a “yeah” from her conversation partner confirmed Twilight’s suspicion.

“Huh,” she pondered out loud, “that’s kind of unusual for pegasi isn’t it?”

A second passed before a hushed, and somewhat dragged-out “yyeeaah,” came from the stallion.

“Ha, how did that cutie mark go over when everybody saw it?” Twilight asked.

“Oh I didn’t get a writing cutie mark.” He answered, to her surprise.

“Huh? Wait, then what was it—or is it?” She asked, instinctively peering around his head to see if she could at least make out a blurred image of it on her own.

“Uh, meteor shower.” He answered, which she also saw, at least to some extent, glimpsing a something of night-ish backdrop with a few pale-yellow streaks crossing it.

“Abstract concept?” She posed the simple end-all-to-be-all, with an expecting expression to match the tone she asked in.

“Yup.” His answer was just as simple. He’d been asked the question more than once.

“Yeah, I got one of those too.” She remarked, turning herself sideways and showing the magic burst and surrounding stars that marked her own flank. “Though, at least mine’s only really half-abstract. I only found out half of the meaning a couple years ago when Celestia made me move here though. Turns out the stars around the magic thing are supposed to represent my best friends,” Twilight strained her voice, quite intentionally, “cause their always gonna be around me . . . it was such a joyous revelation!”

For one normally unexpressive, the stallion still couldn’t avoid at least slightly recoiling at the sheer amount of stress Twilight was clearly venting just by contorting her voice over a single sentence.

Twilight did notice the recoil, and realized quickly just how much she’d vented out through the strain of her voice alone. The sensation of awkwardness and embarrassment followed accordingly. “Uh . . . uh, sorry about all that.” She said, straightening herself back out, then glancing back at her cutie mark before feeling another trickling of embarrassment coming on. “Oh, ha-and uh, sorry for . . . kind of flashing you butt, or the side of my butt or whatever.”

“Um . . .” THAT froze the poor Pegasus, and left the fur on his face growing murky as reddening skin underneath blended with the grey fur above. Neither of them had exactly been aware until just then of what Twilight showing her flank to display her cutie mark could have easily been construed as. Thankfully for him at least, Twilight kept speaking, allowing him to avoid having to formulate anything, as a quick rush of panic had shut his thinking mind down for the moment.

Twilight looked equally embarrassed, but as was somewhat the opposite of him under the influence of panic, not only still able to talk but almost running on a compulsion to keep going. “I—ah, uh-haha, uh, I’m not . . . really usually thinking about that kinda stuff. I’m not-ha, uh, exactly used to . . . having guys check me out or anything like that. I mean—not . . . that, that’s what I’m implying you were doing . . . even if you actually did, I mean I kind of put my flank in front you so, uh-haha ha, it’s kind of on me, I guess.” She held a cracked smile for a moment, while few more nervous laughs managed to escape. “So-haha, since, you know, I’ve never had any kind of interaction even remotely in that area with any guys, I’m not . . . all that familiar with what exactly constitutes like, being provocative, or anything.” She kept stammering about with words and a hopeful mixed of explanations and justifications, until she finally realized aloud the probable irony of the entire situation. “Ha ha-ha, I . . . I probably only made this awkward by bringing it up to begin with.”

The awkwardness at that point was practically making the air itself rigid. The stallion still felt frozen, although the ability to completely think was beginning to settle back in as the internal panic quelled down by a tiny bit. He really needed to say something, at least, anything. It felt intrinsically wrong leaving the purple unicorn in front of him to just stammer about. So he tried. “Uh-I wasn’t looking . . . like that . . .”

“Oh, yeah no I’m not—I’m not saying you were . . . no stallion ever does . . .” Twilight assured him, and then remarked bitterly to herself, the latter causing the stallion to cringe inside out of an induced blasting of sympathy. “But yeah, I’m—I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt. I mean, I’m not Rarity, I don’t go around expecting my butt to be the center of attention for the entire town.”

A slight degree of confusion did manage to escape into expression on the stallion’s face.

It was enough for Twilight to see, and a quick incentive for her to more than gladly change the subject off of her previous stammering. “Oh, Rarity, white unicorn, purple mane, the one I was talking to when you needed to by us.” Twilight both described and explained. “She’s . . . like, basically the town Ho. Everybody’s done her.”

“I haven’t.” For the first time in the lengthy conversation a bit of negative emotion made it into the stallion’s voice. It came off as more than obvious that he was likely repulsed by the idea or accusation, whichever it happened to be.

“Neither have I!” Twilight exclaimed, though still keeping her voice close to a normal volume. “By all means, welcome to an incredibly exclusive club. Apart from you apparently, the only ponies she hasn’t slept with are me and my little circle of friends. And the Cakes, I think,” she added, “well I know Mr Cake’s the faithful husband type and I’m pretty sure Mrs Cake is only into young guys.”

That struck out an uncomfortable memory, which for the sake of conversing the stallion chose to bring up. “Yyeeaaah, she’s . . . why I don’t ever actually go back there: Sugarcube Corner.”

“What? She hit on you?” Twilight asked, almost already amused at what she was expecting to hear.

“She literally told me—I’d ordered one of those, like, spiral donuts, that place calls them twizlers—she literally said, like exact words: “”Well no one else is here. I think we should go glaze your twizler out in the back.”’

“Ah-huh,” Twilight confirmed, as amused as she’d expected to be, “yeah, I’d put her second behind Rarity, I guess, since she only does stallions so she’s probably only done half the town, if that.”

“You know I’ve . . . never been aware any of this was going on?” The stallion remarked.

“Yeah, because you’ve been living my fantasy life of near-complete disconnection.” Twilight said, envy apparent.

“Wait, I don’t want to just never see anypony,” the Stallion briefly explained himself more clearly, “I really do like friends . . . but that kind of implies actually getting along with the pony.”

“Yeah tell me about it.” Twilight easily connected to where he was coming from. “I really can’t stand anypony.” She said, though something crossed her mind at the last second. “Well . . . I mean you seem pretty alright, I guess.”

“. . . uh, thanks.” The stallion was somewhat unsure of how Twilight meant for that to come across, given the past moment.

Twilight was already aware of the potential confusion from what she’d said, mainly given the circumstance. But . . . she wasn’t even honestly sure what she meant by it. A formerly buried desire seized just a small bit of influence over her. It was just enough, by the tiniest bit, to overrule the rational self-condemning part of her that would dismissed what came into her mind. “So,” she found herself saying, “like I said, I live in a library. And, since you write books I’d assume you like quiet places. If you want, you could . . . come over sometime . . .”

There was a pretty solid silence afterward, during which Twilight was rapidly questioning herself as to what she was honestly doing. How much more she should have thought out what she was doing was the most prominent question in line . . . followed immediately by why was she even trying. Her own moderate racism weighed itself in her mind as well, until she reminded herself that in her case it was ultimately nothing more than generalized assumptions she made based on the behavior she witnessed around her, and that unlike Rarity she didn’t truly care. The reason why she was in the midst of exactly what she was doing proved too powerful, even if only overwhelming her self-depressing condemnation by the tiniest degree.

The stallion’s mouth opened too late. He was about to speak, or try to, but anxiety drove Twilight to clarify herself.

“I’m—I’m asking you out . . . basically.” She said, without actually sounding as anxious as she really felt, mostly because her anxiety was mixing with her self-induced pre-apathy . . . readying for the declining response she expected.

“O . . . K?” He hadn’t exactly expected that, ever.

“O—ok? Wha—what?” Twilight’s anxiety gained a foothold over her natural apathy.

The stallion didn’t really know anything else to do but explain. “Well, I . . . wasn’t . . . really expecting that to happen . . . ever.”

“Well it just did,” she responded almost instantly, and more than obviously on edge, “and I’m getting really angsty over it since obviously there’s only two possible outcomes, one of which I have NO IDEA how to respond to, so I kind of just wanna go ahead get this over with already so I just start dealing with whichever one it is!” She spoke incredibly fast, angst and anxiety clearly gaining control. “So . . . just answer the question!”

The stallion was equally as nervous as Twilight, though his clearly manifested in a freezing/stall-out form as opposed to Twilight’s rapid speech and racing thoughts. But, he still managed to speak. “Uh—yeah.”

A few seconds passed before Twilight was able to process and reconfirm the answer her ears had picked up. “Wait, what? Seriously?” She asked.

“W—yeah, that . . . that’s not how I would’ve expected that to happen. I was pretty sure it was never going to.” He said back. “Kind of cause I thought it was always supposed to be the other way around.”

“What? You mean about the guy supposed to be asking the girl?” Twilight somehow even then ended up breaking into somewhat of a ramble. “Yeah, that whole thing’s pointlessly ill-contrived and stupid. It’s all based around the premise of the guy using some kind pick-up line or catch phrase on the girl that’s basically a stupid joke and the punch line is that the girl goes out with him.”

“N—that’s not just it,” the stallion said, “there’s also stuff I just . . . like, don’t really understand. From what everypony always says, there’s like a code, or some unspoken thing that everypony just knows and anypony who doesn’t is just screwed. Like, all that stuff like: if a mare . . . I don’t know—swishes her tail to the right when she walks away that means she wants you, or when one you says this you’re supposed to say in some exactly specific kind of voice and then other pony’s supposed to respond in some really specific way or else it means something’s wrong. I have a hard time being expressive to begin with—“

“Yeah, I know what you’re talking about,” Twilight interrupted, “Rarity tries to educate me on that crap sometimes, when she’s not going on about her exploits. Just . . . just relax, I . . . it’s all a bunch of bullshit and I don’t care.”

If he were more outwardly expressive, the stallion’s face would have visibly brightened up at Twilight’s reassuring revelation.

“Oh,” Twilight only then suddenly realized she should probably fill him in on an extremely important piece of information . . . her name, “uh, I’m Twilight Sparkle by the way. Figured you, you know, should probably know my name.”

“Yeah, kind of.” He was able to say in the same flat, toneless voice he’d substituted for sarcasm earlier, which actually made Twilight grin just a little bit; it wasn’t as if she wanted a clone of herself, but she did like the idea of having someone around who could snark at her level. “Meteor Streak.” He followed up with his own name.

“Ah. Right,” Twilight said, “so yeah, like I said I live in the library. It’s the big . . . dead tree building-house. So . . . you should come hang out sometime. I kind of have to get going though.”

“Alright,” Meteor said, “uh, do you prefer a specific day or something, for company?” He asked.

Twilight had started to walk toward the hospital door, but she stopped to consider the question. “Actually yeah, probably Wednesday would be best. I mean if it’s good with you, I guess?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Meteor assured her.

“Alright then,” Twilight said, “well, I’ll see you Wednesday.” She resumed heading out, and was out through the doorway a moment later. She had every intention of mentally running over and sorting out everything that had just happened along her walk home, but she wasn’t even given a chance to start before an aggravatingly familiar came from beside her.

“Well well Twilight,” Rarity began, suddenly walking beside Twilight, evidently having been waiting just outside the hospital, “that has to be the longest I’ve ever seen you talk to a stallion.”

“Seriously Rarity? What are you still doing here?” Twilight asked. “Isn’t the line outside your bedroom gonna end up going all the way out your front door if you’re away too long?”

“Ha, ha, Twilight. For your information no stallion’s going to be coming into my bedroom until this evening, and YES, only one, before you make any other kind of crude comments about it.”

“Wow,” Twilight responded without ever even glancing at Rarity as they kept walking, “is that like a new record for you or something? You’ll have gone without it for almost half a day.”

“Well excuse me, Twilight, but I’ll have you know it’s been three whole days since the last time.” Rarity demanded her to be corrected.

“Days? I didn’t even think that was possible for you—“ Twilight began, but was interrupted.”

“Well good for you, you’ve learned something brand new today Twilight.” Rarity remarked, and then attempted to force the subject back on track. “Now what about that stallion in there? What exactly were the two of you taking about for so long?”

“What about you lurking around a corner on somepony?” Twilight responded with her own demanding questions. “I’m pretty sure that’s supposed to be what Pinkie does. And anyway, what makes you think it’s any of your business?”

“Well we’re supposedly all friends, arent’ we?” Rarity answered. “And I just saw you having a long, and seemingly pleasant conversation with a stallion. And since I’ve always considered you about as likely as Fluttershy to ever attract a stallion. Though he is a Pegasus, so I suppose I’m still two thirds right.”

“No,” Twilight corrected, “you’re still wrong, completely and entirely.”

“So he is interested you then?” Rarity basically confirmed her own suspicion.

“Yes, and has no interest in you whatsoever because he knows that you’re nothing but a wall sock that almost every guy in town has put something into.” Twilight made an attempt to dismiss the white mare.

“You know, on most other occasions I would actually take offense to that,” Rarity said, “but I’m just too interested in this all right now. For one thing I never thought you would go for a Pegasus. I thought you had standards.”

“Yeah,” Twilight responded again, “well if I actually had any real standards of anything I wouldn’t be friends with you now would I?”

“Agh, will you just quit—“ Rarity’s response ceased in a sudden flash of magic.

Twilight had teleported away, since she was just within range of the library, leaving her marshmallow friend alone with a peeved look.

***

Meanwhile, Elsewhere in Ponyville . . . . .

“You know Thrackerzod, ah’ve been wonderin,” Apple Bloom was saying to ( Sweetie Bell ), “why do you want Twilight Sparkle dead so much? Ah know you’ve said before, but yuh always give a different answer every time, and then usually Scootaloo does something that ends up distracting the both of us anyways.”

“There are many reasons for which Twilight Sparkle must be destroyed,” the little unicorn filly answered in a deep, powerful voice, “all of which are absolutely normal, and completely mundane!”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a normal pony.” Apple Bloom said. “Yuh know Thrackerzod, Ah figure it’s probably about time I told yuh Ah know somethin’s really not normal about yuh.”

An alert expression took hold her friend’s face. “What, do you mean?” Thrackerzod asked.

“Well,” Apple Bloom began, “Ah remember Twilight complainin this one time a few months back about wantin us to watch out for some kinda creature of darkness that she thought might possess somepony. Ah ended up meeting you that same day and even though we weren’t friends before Ah still remember hearing yer old voice a few times, enough ta know that yuh don’t normally sound like some deep, resonating voice alternator. And then that time Miss Fluttershy babysat us you literally summoned some kinda Eldritch wizard-thing from another dimension. Ah know Ah’m apparently the only one who really notices, but personally at this point Ah think it’s pretty obvious yer that thing Twilight was looking for back then.”

Thrackerzod was left looking genuinely horrified, and just as fittingly had no initial response to everything Apple Bloom had just said.

Apple Bloom waited a few seconds, but like any other child her patience didn’t slowly decline but instead just ceased abruptly. “Ok, Ah’m assumin yuh wanna keep this whole act up, so howz about Ah agree to keep this whole thing a secret, and you tell me the truth about what’s goin on?”

Thrackerzod’s expression remained the same for another moment, at the end of which it glanced around, making absolute sure that no other ponies were anywhere nearby . . . and then it turned back to Apple Bloom . . . with narrowed eyes. “Very well,” Thrackerzod said, “do you SWEAR by Azozoth’s Hundred Screaming Heads?”

“Uhh . . . sure.” Apple Bloom just went with appeasement.

“I, am THRACKERZOD!” The explanation began. “Agent in service of the forces of Azozoth, The Great Chaos from Beyond the Void. I’ve been sent to this plane of existence to hunt down and destroy Twilight Sparkle.”

“Ok,” Apple Bloom prodded, “why?”

Thrackerzod’s eyes only narrowed further. “SHE is the present leader of the forces opposing us. Over the past year alone she has conquered countless regions of The Broken Worlds, pressing ever forth against us and aiming to seize absolute power of the Tri-Cosmos of the Infinite Causality.”

Just like Thrackerzod’s expression was locked only a minute ago, Apple Bloom’s became frozen in a blank state while she tried to decide whether or not to even try and process the handful of sentences she’d just heard. Ultimately, she had to decide against it; contemplation would only end in more questions than she had originally intended. “Alright, well,” she asked, “are you really sure it’s Twilight Sparkle? Ah mean, Ah don’t think she’s ever actually gone to another dimension except when she went to go see that Wolf therapist guy.”

“Of course I am sure!” Thrackerzod responded, “The being seen leading the enemy forces looks like Twilight Sparkle, therefore it must BE Twilight Sparkle.”

Apple Bloom lifted a single eyebrow at the answer she’d received. “Um, are yuh sure that’s necessarily the right kinda logic train you wanna be ridin on? Ah mean, like Ah said she never goes to any other dimensions, least far as Ah know. And if she was really out there leading some kinda military campaign in wherever it is yer from, how is it she’s here, in Ponyville all day every single day?”

“Perhaps she is casting some kind of an illusion?” Thrackerzod suggested. “Besides, the magic detected when she is active on the battle fields against our forces is of the same kind specific to the ponies of THIS universe.”

“Uh, yuh do realize there’s a whole lotta other ponies out there that’re more powerful than she is, right?” Apple Bloom began using the most deadly conversational weapon: simple logic. “Ah feel like appearance is all yer goin off of and yer not really putting all that much thought into this.”

“What, are you suggesting?” Thrackerzod asked.

“Ah don’t know, maybe somepony else is actually behind all that stuff you were talkin about and’s just usin their magic to make themselves look like Twilight when they’re over in yer dimension.”

"There is no way that can be the case!" Thrackerzod protested.

"Why not?" Apple Bloom asked, of course.

"Because THAT would make sense!"