The Grim Reaper Visits Ponyville Elementary
Another Forty Thousand Coming Everyday
On a chilly, Autumn morning in Canterlot, Princess Celestia sat on her throne as she sipped a bit of tea when she felt the air around her get cold. “Is that you, Grimmy?” she asked with a smirk.
“Why do you insist on calling me that?” the Grim Reaper asked with a sigh. “And what did you want?”
“Well, for starters, I think the name is cute,” Celestia said as she placed her tea on a nearby tray. “And second, I received word that the students of Canterlot Middle School loved your letter to them!”
The Grim Reaper stared blankly at Celestia for a few minutes before he finally asked, “and now what did they really think of it?”
“Well… they thought it was a prank before I confirmed it was from the real Grim Reaper, at which point most panicked at the thought that they read a letter from Death,” Celestia said. “So, I quelled their fears by saying that he wasn’t going to kill them.”
“And then?”
“I’m ninety percent sure I’m going to be sued for suggesting that you send a letter to a bunch of middle schoolers,” Celestia said sheepishly. “But! I have an even better idea to help with your social anxiety!”
“Celestia, it isn’t social anxiety-”
“Grimmy, I know what I’m doing.”
“No you don’t.”
Celestia sighed. “Listen, I just want to help you,” she said.
“No,” the Reaper said.
“Please, just take my advice here!” Celestia said.
The Grim Reaper let out a heavy sigh. “Okay, fine, what did you have in mind?”
Celestia smiled. “Okay, here’s my idea: go talk to Miss. Cheerilee’s class in Ponyville,” she said. “Perhaps speaking to a class of foals will-”
“Wait, wait, wait,” the Reaper said. “Did you just say ‘a class of foals’?”
“Trust me, it’ll help you with you become better at talking to other ponies!”
“You realize I’m literally death, right?”
“And when have I ever failed you?” Celestia said. “Besides, have you checked your list lately?”
The Reaper summoned a parchment and looked it over. “How did you know about this?” he asked as he sent it away.
“Well… I might’ve snuck into your house a few days ago,” Celestia said as blushed slightly. “I swear, I didn’t look at anything else!”
The Reaper shook his head. “Fine, I’ll go do this only because my job will require me to do so anyway,” he said. “Just send a letter stating they’ll have a ‘special speaker’.”
“Will do,” Celestia said.
“Thank you,” the Reaper said. Just as he was about to teleport away, a thought hit him. “Wait, how will they be able to see me?”
“Oh, right!” Celestia levitated a scroll over to the Reaper. “Use that,” she said
The Reaper nodded. “Before I forget: should this fail, I swear that… I don’t quite know, but I will do something!” With that, the Reaper teleported away.
Celestia levitated her tea back over to her. “No you won’t,” she said with a chuckle.
A few days later, Miss. Cheerilee stood at the front of her classroom with a smile. “Now, students,” she said, “today, we're going to have a very special speaker!”
“Who is it?” Applebloom asked. “Is it Princess Luna?”
“Well, that's the thing,” she said as her smile faltered. “Even I'm not sure. All I was told is that there'd be a very special guest who was going to speak to you all.”
Just then, there was a knock at the classroom door. Cheerilee walked over to the door and opened it, which revealed a terrifying sight.
The Grim Reaper, who simply said, “Hey, are you Miss. Cheerilee?”
Cheerilee—and the rest of the class—screamed. She went to shut the door, but the Reaper stuck his scythe in an opening and forced the door back open. “I'm not here to take any of you away,” he said. “Now, allow me to ask again: are you Miss. Cheerilee?”
“Y-Yes, I am,” Cheerilee said as she slowly backed away from the cloaked pony. “Now, may I ask why you're here?”
“Well, after Princess Celestia heard about the ‘rousing’ success that was my letter to Canterlot Middle School, she suggested that I speak to some foals face to… face that's hidden behind a cloak!” the Reaper said. “So, I picked here!” The Reaper walked to the front of the classroom and faced the class. “Now, here's how this is going to work: you're each allowed to ask one question—rule free—and I'll answer it. How does that sound?”
The foals—nervously—cheered.
Well, it's better than nothing, the Reaper thought. He pointed a bony hoof at Scootaloo and said, “you first.”
Scootaloo jumped in her seat. “Oh, uh…” she tapped her chin and thought for a bit. “How old are you?”
“Older than your princesses,” the Reaper said. “I've been around since time began, and I'll be here until it ends.”
“Wait, so you knew Celestia and Luna's parents?” Scootaloo asked.
“Hey, only one question allowed!” the Reaper snapped. “That said, yes, I did.”
“Does this mean we all get to ask two questions now?” Pipsqueak asked.
The Reaper stomped a hoof on the ground. “Enough!” he yelled, his voice echoing throughout the classroom. “I specifically stated that you may ask one question, and only one! Is that understood?”
“Y-Yes,” the class said.
“Excuse me,” Cheerilee said. “You don't have to he so harsh on them. They're only foals.”
The Reaper let out a sigh. “While you're right, the closest I get to interacting with another pony is poking them and watching them keel over. So, excuse me if me speaking to you and your class is as good as a corpse's ability to digest food,” he said. “Anyways, let's continue. You, with the pink mane,” he said as he pointed to Sweetie Belle.
Sweetie Belle jumped and nervously looked at the Reaper. “Umm… I’ve always heard that your supposed to be dead,” she said. “If that's the case, then how come we can see you?”
“Your princess gave me a spell that allows me to be seen by all, rather a poor soul who's about to be placed six feet under, and cost their family a fortune,” he said. “It’s honestly the nicest thing she's done to me since the time she baked cookies for me almost two centuries ago.” The Reaper pointed to a cream coated foal and said, “okay, your turn, Applebloom.”
Applebloom’s let out a squeak and shook as she sank down in her chair. Tears welled up in her eyes as she stared at the cloaked pony.
“I know what you want to ask, and to answer it: you own a farm. I'm familiar with your family,” the Reaper said. “Just last week, I came by because it was one of your chickens time.”
Applebloom took a deep breath and regained her composure. “Well, um… my question for you is: what were Celestia and Luna's parents like?”
“Not much different than Celestia and Luna are now,” the Reaper said. “Well, except for the fact they're dead; and before you ask: it was food poisoning. Both of them. The chef was promptly thrown into the dungeon,” he said. “I think he did in purpose, but don't tell Celestia that. She always throws a tantrum.”
“Um, Mister Reaper,” Cheerilee said. “Are you sure it’s appropriate to be telling foals this kind of stuff?”
“First, just call me Grim,” the Reaper said. “Second, yes, I do. I mean, come on: they all know they're going to die someday!”
Cheerilee sank back down into her seat and sighed. She rested her head against a hoof and watched as the Reaper pointed a bony hoof at Diamond Tiara.
“Uh, yes, my question is: since you said that you took away a chicken from Applebloom, do you also take all animal souls? Or just ones owned by Ponies as pets and cattle?”
“I take any and all souls. Ponies, wild and domesticated animals, and even plants!” the Reaper said. “If I touch a tree, it'll wither and die—which sucks since I'd really love to have a tulip garden.” The Reaper pointed a hoof at Silver Spoon. “Okay, you're next.”
Silver Spoon ducked under her desk and shook. “No! I'm too young to die!” she said.
“I meant you're next to ask a question,” the Reaper groaned. “Though, if you want, I can tell you when we'll next meet.”
Silver Spoon’s eyes widened. “N-No thank you,” she said. “My question for you, though, is: where did the depiction of you as an Alicorn come from?”
“Most immortal beings are shown to be alicorn's,” the Reaper said. “So, I guess the idea came to be that I was one. Quite honestly, I'm glad I'm not one, as I'd have to get my cloak changed, and that'd make it look really dumb.”
“My sister could always make you a nice one!” Sweetie Belle said with a smile.
“Isn't your sister the one who cried for three weeks when I took her pet bunny away from her when she was little? She had a dress and everything on it. It looked ridiculous, and I couldn't take it with me, so I had to fight to undress it!”
“Wait, Rarity had a pet bunny!?” Sweetie Belle asked over the laughter of the class.
“She had quite a few over her foalhood,” the Reaper said. “One of them even became rabid! Believe me, it was a laugh a minute each time I had to collect one. Drama queens are the best. Also, you've asked three questions so far. Am I allowed to send you to the principal's office?”
“No, Grim, you can't,” Cheerilee groaned.
“Damn it,” the Reaper said. “Anyways, you with the blonde mane and goofy eyes. What's your question.”
“My question is: are you a ghost?” Ditzy Doo asked with a smile.
“Wow, finally, someone who didn't freak out,” the Reaper said. “I like you, kid. Anyways-”
“Thanks, Mister Reaper!” Ditzy blurted out.
“Okay, I take some of that back,” he grumbled. “Anyways, no, I'm not really a ghost so much as I'm a manifestation of death itself. Hence why everything I touch dies.”
“Even the princesses?” Ditzy asked in awe.
“Yes, if I touched the princesses, they'd keel over,” the Reaper said with a hint of irritation. “Now, you with the eye patch and bandanna. What's your question?”
“Oh, boy!” Pipsqueak said happily. “My question for you is: do you ever attend the funerals of those you take away?”
The Reaper tilted his head. “Um… kid, I don't know what to think of that question,” he said. “That's both the single dumbest thing I've ever been asked and the most… interesting thing. To answer your question though: no, I haven't, because I'm usually somewhere else,” he said. “Which I'm thankful for, since I've heard that funerals are extremely boring and full of crying and grieving, which I deal with enough.”
Pipsqueak slouched in his chair. “Okay,” he said.
“Oh, come on, don't be sad,” the Reaper said. “Your question is probably going to be the highlight of this entire thing.”
Pipsqueaks face lit up. “Really!?” he asked with a large smile.
“Yeah,” the Reaper said. “Okay, your turn,” he as he pointed to Twist. “Ask away.”
“What'sth your favorite color?” Twist asked.
“Teal.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Cool.”
The Reaper shook his head and pointed to a blue earth pony filly. “Okay, little filly, you next.”
The filly gulped. “Uh… who's your favorite princess?” she asked sheepishly.
“The new one, Flurry Heart. She's adorable, and will make that sore loser Cadence miserable,” the Reaper said. “That'll teach her to whine every time I kick her flank in poker!”
“Um.. yeah. My favorites Celestia,” the filly said
“That's nice,” the Reaper said as he pointed to Snips. “Okay, you, question!”
“Oh, brother, are you really asking him?” Cheerilee asked weakly.
“What's wrong, Miss. Cheerilee?” Sweetie Belle asked. “Are you sick?”
“I'm okay, Sweetie Belle,” Cheerilee responded. “Just must've eaten something bad.”
“Hey, pipe it down, I can't hear what I'm being asked,” the Reaper snapped. “Repeat the question, little guy.”
“I asked what your favorite food is.”
“Bagels.”
“Really?”
“Are you a male version of that filly from earlier?”
“I don't think so.”
“Alrighty then,” he said as he pointed a bony hoof to Snails. “What's your question?”
“Do you like cookies?”
“Cheerilee, is your class full of clones?”
“N-No,” Cheerilee replied weakly. “But I think I'm gonna puke.”
The Reaper levitated a bucket over to her. “There ya go,” he said as he observed a few foals whisper to each other. “Now, what's your question, really little guy?” he asked as he pointed to a skinny, white pegasus.
“Um, well, I'd like to know: do you ever feel remorse when you take somepony away?” Featherweight asked.
“Nope,” the Reaper answered. “Once you've been doing this for as long as I have, you never feel much of anything. Though, there are times where I wish the pony's time wasn't up—but I wouldn't call that the same as 'remorse’.”
“Oh, well, thanks for answering,” Featherweight said.
The Reaper nodded and scanned the classroom before he pointed to a tan earth pony all the way in the back. “What about you?”
“Yeah, hi, my name's Ace,” the foal said. “I don't believe a thing you've said all day,” he said cockily. “If you're really the Reaper, prove it!”
The Reaper chuckled. “Well, I'll gladly demonstrate my power,” he said. He turned to Miss. Cheerilee and rested a bony hoof on her neck, which caused her to drop dead. “That good enough for you, kid?”
The entire class screamed, and some hid under their desks as they whimpered.
“I-Is she really dead!?” Ace asked as he shook in his seat.
“Oh, yeah, she's gone,” the Reaper said. “I'll be honest: I only agreed to come here because I had to come by and take her away.”
“But I thought you said that you weren't going to kill anyone!” Scootaloo yelled. “Why'd you lie!?”
“Are you for real kid?” the Reaper asked. “I'm not going to come here and say that your teacher's going to die before I answer questions! That's just bad manners.” He walked over to the classroom door and opened before waving a hoof to the class. “Anyways, class dismissed!” With that, the Reaper vanished.
Author's Note
Tell me how I did with the canonical characters! This is the second time I've ever published a story with some, and I'm curious as to how I did!
