The Citizens of Ponyville Just Say No
In the Castle of Friendship, six ponies and one baby dragon were all seated around a large circular table, each in their designated throne.
“So it’s decided,” Princess Twilight Sparkle stated. “Regardless of how good of a friend somepony is, if you ask them to help you move your furniture, then you are required to compensate them with a gift that is no less than 10% of the value of what you would have had to pay a moving company to perform the same work.”
She levitated a small gavel into the air and brought it down a single time onto the sound block placed on the table.
“And with that, I declare this morning’s Friendship Meeting adjourned.”
Spike and the other five ponies began to get up from their seats. Before they could leave the table, Twilight called to three of them. “Applejack, Rarity, Rainbow Dash? Can you stick around for a couple of minutes?”
The three ponies looked at each other in confusion, then sat back down. Once Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, and Spike had left, Twilight used her magic to shut the door.
“Thank you,” Twilight said to the three remaining ponies. “I wanted to talk to you because I’m starting to become concerned. About the Cutie Mark Crusaders.”
“What did they do now?” Applejack asked with a hint of frustration. “I thought their most destructive days were behind ’em now that they got their cutie marks.”
“No, no, it’s nothing like that,” Twilight assured her. “I’m concerned about what they’re learning. Or rather, what they aren’t learning.”
“Miss Cheerilee is the finest teacher in Ponyville,” Rarity said. “I’m sure she’s instructing them in everything they need to know. Unless…” She came to a conclusion which she preemptively took offense at. “Are you saying that we aren’t teaching them something?”
“No!” Twilight said defensively. “Well, maybe. What I mean is, I’m concerned that they haven’t been learning enough life lessons lately. Life lessons which relate specifically to fillies their age.”
“Beg pardon?” asked Applejack.
“You know, things like ‘developing a talent takes time’ or ‘you shouldn’t be afraid of ghost stories.’ Lessons for fillies.” Twilight thought for a moment. “And colts, too, I suppose. Though I’ll be honest – I wasn’t expecting any colts to be paying attention when the Cutie Mark Crusaders began learning life lessons.”
“But they’re still learning lessons on a regular basis,” Rarity argued. “Why, just recently, they learned that it’s okay for them to have individual interests which their friends aren’t a part of.”
“Sure, but that’s a life lesson that any of us could have learned. That lesson would have been equally as meaningful if Pinkie Pie had tried to get me and Rainbow Dash to do exclusively things the three of us could agree on.”
Rainbow Dash, who had zoned out as soon as she realized the conversation was about learning, snapped back to attention at the sound of her name.
Twilight continued, “I’m talking about lessons which only apply to fillies. According to my records, the last such lesson the three of them learned was the correct course of action a filly should take if she’s confronted by a bully.”
Rainbow Dash was excited that she knew the answer to that one. “Right – you should be indirectly responsible as the bully loses everything she thinks she holds dear, then befriend her and ultimately earn your cutie mark.”
“No, I’m talking about what happened during the summer harvest parade,” Twilight said. “And that was a long while ago.”
“I’m not sure I agree that they need to learn such age-appropriate lessons at regular intervals,” Rarity said. “But even if they should, what are we supposed to do about it?”
“We can find lessons to teach them!” Twilight said, involuntarily excited about the prospect of teaching. “Specifically, I’m thinking of the life lesson that, thirty years ago, every filly and colt their age had to learn: How to say no to drugs!”
The other three mares looked at one another. “Are you sure, Twilight?” asked Applejack. “Don’t they seem a mite young to be worryin’ about being offered drugs?”
“You sound just like Cheerilee,” Twilight said. “In this day and age, I think it’s more important than ever. Now tell me, have any of you discussed drugs with your little sisters?” Everyone at the table knew that it wasn’t necessary to clarify that Scootaloo wasn’t biologically Rainbow Dash’s sister.
“I’ve only had to tell Sweetie Belle that wine is a grownup drink,” said Rarity. “We’ve never discussed actual drugs.”
“Same here with Apple Bloom,” said Applejack. “Only ’cept about the hard cider we keep in the cellar.”
“Scootaloo knows that it’s wrong to use steroids to get an unfair competitive advantage,” Rainbow Dash said. “But we’ve never talked about drug drugs.”
Twilight became even more adamant. “See? Nopony thinks it’s important to teach this to youngsters anymore. Luckily, I’m prepared to be the one to ensure that the Cutie Mark Crusaders learn this lesson!”
Rainbow Dash groaned. “You’re not going to sit them down and lecture them, are you?”
“No, of course not,” Twilight answered. “No filly is going to voluntarily watch while an authority figure stands up and lectures them about avoiding drugs. No, the way to make sure the lesson sticks is to put the Crusaders in a situation in which somepony offers them drugs.”
“And how do you plan on makin’ sure that happens?” asked Applejack.
“I’ll find a pony who has some drugs, then ask them to play along and offer some of those drugs to the Crusaders,” Twilight explained. “If the Crusaders say no, then great! If they say yes, then I’ll be able to jump in and explain to them the importance of saying no. The fillies learn their lesson and the Crusaders are never in any real danger.” Twilight beamed with pride.
Applejack looked dubious. Rarity and Rainbow Dash simultaneously rolled their eyes.
“I’m off to find some drugs!” Twilight announced. She trotted to the door and set off for Ponyville.
The other three watched Twilight leave. Applejack turned toward Rainbow Dash.
“You ain’t gonna say anything even though I mentioned hard cider?” she asked.
“I’m more than just a cider-obsessed super athlete,” Rainbow Dash asserted. “Besides… I already know where you hide the hard cider.”
Twilight trotted up to the front door of Fluttershy’s cottage. Twilight knew that Fluttershy would never partake in any illegal substance. But fortunately, she currently had a houseguest.
“Hi, Fluttershy,” Twilight said when Fluttershy opened the door. “May I please speak with Tree Hugger?”
“Certainly,” Fluttershy said. She went inside and a minute later, returned alongside a pistachio-colored earth pony with dirty red dreadlocks.
“Hello, princess,” Tree Hugger said in her usual lethargic, content manner. “What brings you out here?”
“Tree Hugger,” Twilight said earnestly, “I need some drugs.”
“Like, whoa,” Tree Hugger said. Her expression almost changed. “I don’t get involved in that kind of communing.”
Fluttershy simply stared at Twilight, shocked.
“It doesn’t have to be anything serious,” Twilight said. “Marijuana, peyote… whatever it is that you use.”
Fluttershy finally worked up the nerve to speak. “Twilight Sparkle! I won’t judge how you spend your free time, but for you to come here and ask Tree Hugger to give you something which is against the law… that’s uncalled for!”
“It’s so I can teach the fillies an important life lesson,” Twilight explained. “So, what do you have, Tree Hugger?”
Tree Hugger looked Twilight in the eyes. “I already told you – that isn’t my vibe. I don’t do anything that would interfere with my ability to communicate with nature.” She slowly waved her hoof in a half circle to indicate nature.
Twilight lowered her eyebrows. “Come on – every time I see you, you reek of patchouli. You’re clearly trying to cover something.”
Tree Hugger’s mood remained unchanged. “I wear this scent because I want to smell of the earth. It harmonizes with my natural presence.”
“I don’t smell anything unusual,” Fluttershy said.
“No offense, but that’s because you live in a house filled with animals,” Twilight responded. She eyed Tree Hugger suspiciously. “Are you sure you’re not hiding something?”
“I never lie to anypony,” Tree Hugger said. “It does terrible things to your aura.”
Twilight still wasn’t sure whether to believe her. Then she remembered that as the Princess of Friendship, she was supposed to give her friends – and the friends of her friends – the benefit of the doubt. “Okay, then,” she said reluctantly. “I’m sorry I bothered you. Thanks for your time.”
“Have a groovy day!” Tree Hugger replied.
Twilight Sparkle turned around and headed toward town.
Tree Hugger, awed at how brightly the sun was shining, stepped out onto the lawn and lay down on her side so she could feel the soft grass and the warm sun at the same time.
Fluttershy just stood near the doorway, sniffing at the interior of her house.
“I was sure Tree Hugger would have the drugs that I needed,” Twilight said to herself as she walked along the streets of Ponyville. “Now who am I going to turn to?”
She approached the marketplace and looked around. There were plenty of ponies, but none that Twilight could be certain had access to narcotics. Suddenly, she saw a pink blur racing from stall to stall, purchasing assorted types of fruit.
“Pinkie!” Twilight said to herself with renewed optimism. “That would explain a lot, actually.”
Twilight followed Pinkie Pie through the front door of Sugarcube Corner, behind the counter, and into the kitchen. No one tried to stop her – after all, she was a princess.
“Pinkie Pie!” Twilight said, trying to get the pony’s attention.
Pinkie was happily surprised to see her friend. “Twilight! Are you here to help me make mini fruit tarts?”
“I – no,” Twilight said. “Actually, I came here because I have a question about how you’re so vivacious and bubbly all the time.”
Pinkie nodded enthusiastically.
“Do you… take anything?” Twilight had been hoping to acquire some less serious drugs, but she understood that beggars couldn’t be choosers.
“Take anything?” Pinkie said. “No, silly, I’m here to give! To give smiles and give cheer and give out these delicious pastries filled with yummy fresh fruit! The only things I take are compliments and smiles in return and bits in payment for these tarts.” She stopped to consider what she just said. “Huh… I guess I do take things.”
“No, I mean why you’re so active,” Twilight clarified. She was used to having to re-explain her questions to Pinkie. “Do you… ingest… anything that keeps you moving like this?”
“Just lots of sugar combined with my natural Pinkie energy! That’s how I’m able to get so much done during the day!” Somehow, she had already assembled twelve mini fruit tarts, which she placed in the oven.
“Really? Are you sure that there’s nothing else you consume? Or snort? You do have a lot of straws…”
“I mean, I eat lots of other things, too. Like oats and orange juice and if it’s Wednesday, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. And so on. But nothing else that gives me all my extra energy!” The oven timer dinged, and Pinkie removed twelve piping hot, golden-crusted fruit tarts, all cooked impossibly fast. She placed twelve more into the oven.
Twilight was going to press the issue, but all of her thoughts led to three words. They were the same three words which ended 80% of the conversations folks had with this particular pony: It’s Pinkie Pie.
So instead, Twilight levitated some of her bits toward the cash register, then picked up one of the finished tarts with her magic. Before she left, a thought popped into her head.
“Pinkie? Would you mind showing me this ‘sugar’ you eat so much of?”
“Sure thing! It’s that big bag in the corner.” Pinkie pointed toward an open, half-empty fifty-pound bag labeled PINKIE’S SUGAR. An imprint of Pinkie’s face could clearly be seen on the contents within.
Twilight stepped over, licked the edge of her hoof, and gingerly dipped it into the white granular substance. She brought the edge of her hoof to her mouth and took a small taste. Yep… that was sugar. Twilight wasn’t sure what flavor she would have been looking for if it wasn’t sugar, but that was definitely sugar.
Twilight said good-bye to Pinkie and left with her tart. Pinkie devoured two of the remaining tarts in one gulp, then washed them down with a tall glass of sugar.
Twilight nibbled on her fruit tart while slowly walking through Ponyville. Her eyes passed from shop to shop, looking for inspiration as to whom she should ask next.
The spa… the joke shop… Quills and Sofas… the barbershop… Carousel Boutique… Café Hay… the bowling alley…
The bowling alley!
“Of course!” Twilight exclaimed. She shoved the rest of the fruit tart into her mouth and trotted toward the bowling alley.
Twilight walked inside, approached the counter, finished chewing, swallowed, then addressed the bowling alley’s owner. “Good afternoon,” she said. She paused and looked at the clock on the wall. Yes, it was past 12:00, so her salutation was accurate. “Do you know where Mr. Letrotski is?”
“Nope – he hasn’t come in today,” the owner said.
Twilight was visibly disappointed.
“I saw him pass by here about an hour ago carrying a briefcase, but I don’t know where he was going,” the owner added.
Twilight stomped her hoof on the ground in frustration. The perfect candidate for her plan, and he was gone! Twilight considered asking the owner if he had any drugs, but decided against it – asking ponies at random if they had drugs wasn’t until Plan G. So she thanked him for his help and made her way back toward the entrance.
Right before she reached the door, she passed by a bulletin board covered in flyers, all attached with no semblance of order. Twilight absentmindedly glanced at the collection of papers. An advertisement for a nightclub caught her attention, and she knew which pony she should talk to next.
Octavia Melody answered the door. Naturally, she wasn’t expecting a visit from royalty. “Princess Twilight!” she exclaimed in her distinct upper-class accent. “What may I do for you?”
“Is DJ Pon-3 home?” Twilight asked.
“Yes,” Octavia answered. “Please – come in.”
Twilight entered the musicians’ home while Octavia left to get her housemate. The living room was decorated in two distinct styles – traditional on the left, modern on the right. The delineation between the two styles cut directly through the center of the room, as if it had been designed for a sitcom.
Octavia returned with DJ Pon-3. When the deejay saw that she was being addressed by royalty, she demonstrated that she was paying the utmost attention: She lifted one side of her headphones away from her ear.
“DJ Pon-3,” Twilight said. It was a mouthful to say each time, but Twilight believed in using formal titles when appropriate. “In order to teach our fillies an important lesson, I’m looking for a pony who has some drugs.”
Even though there was nothing there, DJ Pon-3 reflexively wiped at the base of her nose with her hoof.
“I’m sorry, princess,” Octavia said, stepping in front of her friend, “but while DJ Pon-3 may have made some mistakes in the past, I can assure you that she has been drug-free for more than eight months now. I’ve made sure of it.”
“Really?” Twilight said, her tone of voice and facial expression the very definition of skepticism.
“Positively,” Octavia replied. “If you’re looking for proof, might I point out that it’s 1:00 in the afternoon and she’s completely awake and alert.”
Twilight couldn’t argue with that. “Well then,” she said, looking at DJ Pon-3 again, “can you at least give me the names of any ponies who might have some drugs?”
DJ Pon-3 simply shrugged.
“You don’t know a single pony with drugs that I could talk to?”
DJ Pon-3 shook her head no. It was difficult to tell because of the sunglasses, but it looked like she was angry.
“You have your answer, princess,” Octavia said, stepping forward. “She has worked very hard to reach this point, so if you have no further questions, I shall bid you good day.”
Twilight gave up. She thanked the two for their time and left.
Once again, Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, Rarity, and Rainbow Dash were gathered around the table in the throne room.
“I’ve been all over town,” Twilight lamented, “but I can’t get any drugs.”
“You pulled me away from my chores to tell me nothin’s happened?” said Applejack.
“Twilight, dear, what were you expecting?” said Rarity. “That somepony would just step forward and tell you that they were in possession of an illegal substance?”
“Yes!” Twilight said indignantly. “The ponies I talked to were all clean, but there has to be somepony around here who has drugs! Why won’t they tell me?”
“Uh, because you’re a princess?” Rainbow Dash replied. Rarity and Applejack nodded.
“That makes even less sense,” Twilight said. “If me being a princess factors into it, then why wouldn’t they want to help out a princess?”
“Think about it,” Rarity said. “Imagine if a police officer walked up to one of these ponies and asked them whether they were carrying drugs. Even if they were, they would deny it. To admit to possession would be equivalent to asking to be arrested. And if they wouldn’t admit to it in front of a police officer, then they certainly wouldn’t admit to it in front of Equestrian royalty.”
“Here, I’ll even give you a name,” Rainbow Dash said. “Shiver Wing. I guarantee you she has stuff in her home right now. But if you knocked on her door and asked her if she had any drugs, she’d say she didn’t, then panic and try to get rid of it all as quickly as possible.” She paused for a moment. “Actually, that sounds like it’d be pretty fun to watch. Let’s go do that.”
“No, you’re right,” Twilight said with resignation. “Well, if nopony is going to help me, then I guess there’s only one thing to do.”
“Stop tryin’ to make this cockamamie scheme work?” asked Applejack.
“No… I’ll have to do it myself!”
The other three groaned. Rainbow Dash let her head drop face-first onto the table. Which she immediately regretted, as the table was made of solid stone.
After an unproductive day spent rearranging the furniture in their clubhouse, the Cutie Mark Crusaders were walking through the orchard of Sweet Apple Acres. Suddenly, Twilight Sparkle teleported directly in front of them.
“Why, hello girls!” Twilight said, far too eagerly. “What are you up to?”
Scootaloo answered, “We were hanging out at our clubhouse, but we got bored. So we’re headed into town to find something to do.”
“Bored, you say?” Twilight said even more excitedly. “Do you know what some ponies do when they’re bored? They smoke marijuana!” Using her magic, she held out a cylindrical glass container filled with crushed green leaves.
The three fillies stared at Twilight. They glanced at one another. Then they resumed staring at Twilight.
“Why don’t you try some right now!” Twilight said. She levitated the small jar closer.
“Um… Twilight?” Apple Bloom said.
“What’s wrong? Don’t you know what you would do if somepony offered you drugs?” Twilight said loudly. She looked intently at them, never blinking.
“It’s not that,” Apple Bloom replied. “It’s just that… that isn’t marijuana. It’s a jar of oregano.”
“What?” Twilight exclaimed. “No! This is marijuana! Which you smoke!”
“No, it’s oregano,” Apple Bloom said. She reached up and rotated the jar as it floated in front of her. “See, the label’s right there.”
Twilight sputtered. “Well, that’s just… I mean, obviously it’s…” Her surge of adrenaline was spent. She let the jar fall to the soft ground below. “I’m sorry, girls. I just wanted to teach you that it’s important to say no if somepony offers you drugs.”
“Is that what this is about?” asked Scootaloo. “We already know we should say no to drugs.”
Twilight blinked. “You do?”
“Yeah,” Apple Bloom said. “We know how drugs can ruin ponies.”
“And mess up their heads,” added Sweetie Belle.
“We don’t want that to happen to us,” Scootaloo said.
Twilight looked at them warmly. “I am so glad to hear that. I’m really proud of you.” She lifted her head, looking past the three fillies. “So remember: If you ever find yourself in a situation where someone offers you drugs, just say no.”
Twilight smiled and gazed into the distance. Silence filled the air.
“Uh, we just said we know that,” Apple Bloom pointed out.
After Twilight teleported off the farm with no further conversation, the three fillies continued on their way. They had left Sweet Apple Acres and were now on the dirt road which led to Ponyville.
As they walked, they were approached by a stallion wearing a white T-shirt. His mane was slightly unkempt and he had a two-day beard.
“Hey there,” he said as he blocked their path. “Do you kids like candy?” He held up a large swirled lollipop.
“We sure do!” said Sweetie Belle.
“I’ve got plenty of candy, right over there.” He pointed toward a windowless carriage parked along the side of the road. “Do you want some?”
“Really?” Scootaloo asked excitedly. “Yeah! Thanks, mister!”
The stallion stepped over and opened a door at the rear of the carriage. “The candy’s in the back. Just climb on inside.”
The Cutie Mark Crusaders looked at the open door.
And because no one had taught them otherwise, they all ran to the carriage and jumped in.
