It's Still Not Easy Being Mostly Purple

by Justice3442

Rating: teen
Tags: Starlight Glimmer, Romance, Original Character, Spike, Comedy, Random, Slice of Life, Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 5218

Spike lives in a giant castle with the company of not one, but two mares. So, everything's just peachy, right? Ignoring how unhinged his castlemates can be in conjunction with how much magical power they happen to have... and sometimes abuse.

Spike lives in a giant castle with the company of not one, but two mares. So everything's just peachy, right? You know… ignoring how unhinged his castlemates can be in conjunction with how much magical power they happen to have… and sometimes abuse.

Having read the previous story is not strictly necessary to enjoy this one, though it will help in regards to the second section.

Spike vector from dipi11.

Published 2017-02-09 06:10:01 UTC
Last updated 2017-02-09 06:10:01 UTC

It's Just One of Those Days

It’s Still Not Easy Being Mostly Purple

Spike inhaled through his nostrils, then let out the air in a satisfied sigh as he looked over the large pile of perfectly round pancakes stacked in front of him. Though he wouldn’t call himself an expert chef, although others might say it about him and he wouldn’t be quick to correct them, he was quite proud of his recent culinary accomplishments and couldn’t wait to share them with his castlemates. Castlemates who spent hours studying and working magic which usually left them both exhausted and hungry. Castlemates who had practically passed out at their work the night before and had to be hauled to their respective beds.

Castlemates who weren’t yet up…

Spike looked out a large set of crystalline double doors expectantly as if the smell of delicious pancakes would entice one or both magical ponies out of their sleep. Though after a few moments of staring through the open doors and listening to silence, it became apparent that this was not going to happen.

So Spike got proactive. “Yo, Twilight, Starlight! I got up at 5 AM and made all these gosh dang pancakes!”

Spike’s efforts were rewarded with a moan from down the hall. “Spike…?” Twilight’s drowsy voice called out. “Wha…” There was a beat of silence. No doubt, the Princess of Friendship was getting her morning bearings and smelling the air. “Whoa… those pancakes smell delicious!”

Spike grinned at the open doorway. “They are delicious! So why don’t you get up and—”

“Do you think you can bring me some?” Twilight called back.

“Whaaaat?” Spike called back in a slightly exasperated tone. “Twilight, I was up late making sure you and Starlight got into bed then up early making breakfast! The least you can do is get out of bed and join me in the dining room.”

“…”

“Twilight?”

“But I just woke up and the dining room is so FaAaAaAaAaAr!” Twilight whined in response.

“It’s not so far we can’t have this conversation!” Spike pointed out.

“Ugh… Hold on…” Twilight said.

Spike smiled as he waited for the expected sounds of hooves clopping against the crystalline floors and Twilight’s yawn as her body attempted to lift itself out of the sleepy stopper it found itself in. Instead what he heard was the unexpected crackle of fire as the air and reality itself seemed to catch flame in a neat little line behind him, suddenly burning away into a rough oval shape right by the pancake pile. As a few pancakes disappeared into the void of swirling energy, Spike turned and glanced at things no sane pony or dragon was meant to see. Things of impossible sparkling and swirling geometry that could easily render the most open and stalwart of minds into jumbled messes as they broke under the sheer impossibility of what they were confronted with. He spied shapes and unshapes that seemed to exist in complete defiance of everything he thought he understood about the universe and saw colors beyond what his wildest imagination could ever hope to comprehend. He heard noises that would be inconceivable to replicate through any combination of instruments or naturally occurring sounds on his current plane of existence. Spike smelled odors that his senses could not possibly hope to unravel. Smells that utterly destroyed his limited notion of olfactory input being ‘good’, ‘bad’, or even simply ‘neutral’. Spike saw forever and touched infinity. Spike placed his claws on his hips and huffed out, “There’s a magical portal of unreality in the dining room!” irritably.

“Really? It’s closed on this end!” Twilight countered.

“I’m staring right at it!” Spike snapped.

“Spike! What have I told you about staring into the abyss?!” Twilight chastised.

“Then don’t open abyss portals in the castle, Twilight!” Spike shouted back.

“… Alright, yeah… this is my bad,” Twilight admitted.

“So you’ll be right here to close this, then?” Spike called out.

“… But my bed is so warm and cozy!” Twilight called.

“Darn it, Twilight! The abyss is staring back with an infinite amount of unblinking eyes that see all that is, was, and ever will or CAN be!”

“Wait… hold on!” Twilight called out.

The sound of fire burning nothing and yet everything increased as did the relative size of the oval tear in spacetime as a couple more pancakes disappeared within.

“Did that work?!” Twilight called.

“No!” Spike called as reality continued to fracture within the dining room. “Now the portal is bigger!”

“Well… shoot…” Twilight said. “Just… Plug it with some towels or something…”

Spike’s brow crinkled hard. “You want me to fix this hole in reality you created because you were too lazy to get out of bed for pancakes by plugging it with towels…”

“… Yes,” Twilight replied. “Though, technically it’s more of a hole to another dimension with laws completely foreign and beyond our limited reasoning.”

“How does knowing that help the situation?!” Spike called out.

“Also… these pancakes are delicious, Spike! You’ve really outdone yourself this time!”

“Awww… shucks…” Spike said as he kicked at the ground. “Thanks, Twi—Hey! Don’t change the subject! You still want me to fix this problem you caused… with towels!”

“I’m sure the absorbent properties of the towel will soak up the incredible magical energies, Spike!”

“… How sure?”

“… Pretty sure!”

Spike’s eyelids dropped. “That doesn’t sound very scientific.”

Twilight groaned. “I had to do some quick quantumana math in my head, Spike! I already used up all my scratch paper figuring out how to get pancakes without getting out of bed!”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Fine, whatever! I just don’t think towels are going to fix—!”

“Spike?!” another mare’s voice called out.

Spike let out a small sigh of relief. “Thank Celestia… Hey, Starlight! Twilight burned through some sort of wall between dimensions and—”

“Are those pancakes I smell?!” Starlight Glimmer continued.

“Uh… assuming it’s that and not the smell of this other reality that’s leaking into our own, then yes. If you could just come in here and—”

Suddenly there was a sound like a dull and rusty dagger being pulled through a thick curtain with the addition of lamentations and wails of a sorrow and pain that was beyond anything anypony, or dragon, would ever have the misfortune of experiencing with their limited existence. Sounds so unfathomably tragic they could immediately impart upon the listener that they were more than just meat wrapped in skin, hair, and/or scales, but that there was something luminescent and immutable to their existence and that whatever they chose to call this spirit or soul, it was now forever tarnished and stained by this otherworldly experience. Spike glanced at this jagged tear in open air as a few pancakes disappeared into it, and in that terrible moment, he understood that pain, suffering, and even hate, terror, and murder were more than feelings. That somewhere, somehow these weren’t simply concepts or even actions but tangible real things, or perhaps beings, composed of pure malice and spite that roamed and ruled a realm of pure, absolute violence and horror. Desolation wracked every iota of his body and hopelessness burrowed into his brain. Spike smelled the essence of pure, undiluted dread and tasted despair on his tongue. Spike threw his claws up into the air. “Now there are TWO holes to other dimensions in the dining room!”

“Actually, that’s more of a tear in reality!” Starlight called out.

Spike let out a frustrated snarl.

Twilight’s voice rang out again. “Hey, Spike… The energy from the two portals wouldn’t happen to be… uh… conflicting or… hrmmm…”

“Canceling each other out?” Starlight suggested.

“Right!” Twilight replied. “How about it Spike? Are the portals shrinking with the bombardment of opposing energy that’s flooding into our reality via our dining room?!”

With a heavy sigh, Spike turned and took in the sight of both portals. All of the senses he was aware of to that point and quite a few he had discovered in this short time, that somehow also felt like eternity, were suddenly assailed by torrents of endless and infinite pressure as they tried and utterly failed to translate the new sensations he was ‘experiencing’.

“No!” Spike called out. “In fact, they’re just getting bigger!”

“Whoops!” Twilight cried out. “Sounds like somepony is going to have to plug up those holes and then go out and get more towels!~” Twilight sang out. “And by somepony, I mean ‘dragon!’ And by ‘dragon’ I mean—”

“I get it!” Spike cried out as he threw his claws into the air and stormed out of the room.

-ooooo-

“…and that’s why I need all your towels!” Spike explained to the empty counter, or rather, the counter that at first glance appeared empty, but in fact, had a lilac earth pony mare huddling behind it in the fetal position on the other side. A pony with green eyes full of fear and quivering lips that let out a quiet babble of terrified sounds. A pony who grasped her braided burnt orange-colored mane and stroked it like it was some sort of comfort blanket.

“I tell you, the nerve of some ponies,” Spike continued as he leaned an elbow against the counter and stared off into space. He motioned out with his free claw. “You make them breakfast, and not only do they not have the decency to simply get out of bed, trot down the hall, and enjoy it with you, they have the nerve to make you fix their messes after they broke down the very walls of reality just so they wouldn’t get out of bed!” Spike shook his head. “I mean, is that bad, or is that bad?!”

Spike received a small whimper in reply.

Spike creased his brow slightly and stepped on the tips of his claws so he could peek over the counter. “Uh… Panic Station?” he called out.

“Why did you tell me that horrible story?!” the pony known as Panic Station wailed. “Do you know what this kind of stress does to a pony’s life expectancy?! Not ‘good things’, that’s for sure! That’s even assuming these two terror holes don’t consume all of life as we know it, either destroying it or, worse, irreversibly changing the nature of our existences to something of pure painful agony!”

Spike shrugged. “Well, I don’t know if it was luck or if Twilight somehow understands what massively useful things towels are in these situations, but the portals seemed to calm down when I plugged them up nice and good.” Spike frowned heavily. “Besides! You said you wanted to know why I was buying all your towels!”

“I specifically said the exact opposite of that!” Panic Station sobbed. “I didn’t want to know why your castle was suddenly out of towels after the last time you bought all my towels because I know that a slightly unhinged princess is in residence and that her new student is another pony of great magical talent, except based on her past actions, she apparently doesn’t have any morals to speak of! There’s no way any good could come from an anecdote involving those two!”

“Oh… that time actually had nothing to do with Twilight or Starlight.”

“Oh… really?” Panic Station replied, fear slightly abating from her voice.

“Yeah... Funny story, that,” Spike began. “You see I had ‘dragon phlegm flu’ and dragon phlegm is apparently one of the most flammable and touchy things in all Equestria, so—”

“Ah! AH!” Panic Station screamed. “I don’t want to know about that either!”

“Fine!” Spike huffed out. He paused thoughtfully for a moment. “How do you know about Starlight Glimmer’s rap sheet, anyhow?”

“Oh, before Twilight and the other element bearers showed up and undid all her work, it turns out that Starlight’s village was the safest in all of Equestria. I mean… I did studies…”

Spike placed both his arms down on the counter and pushed himself forward, leaning on his arms while his feet dangled off the other side of the counter. He glowered down at Panic Station accusingly. “Gee, P.S. Sounds like you wish Starlight’s plan to remove cutie marks would have succeeded.”

“My cutie mark is a silhouette of a pony with wide, terrified eyes in front of a world that’s looming over it,” Panic Station said as she stroked her braided mane a few times and glanced down at her flank. “Maybe you can stare without blinking into portals of unfathomable geometry or where heinous concepts are tangible, real things, but I know what that my chances of dying go up drastically every time I take a bath or shower. I mean… I did studies. You see… that’s why I started selling towels in addition to carpets and lab equipment… I kept on buying them in bulk because it was much safer to just wash myself with a wet towel then risk drowning or slipping and breaking my neck from taking a bath or showering.”

“... Why don’t you just rewash the same set of towels?”

“Because there’s a chance that I might slip and hit my head on the washboard while doing that, and then fall unconscious into the wash water where I drown from all the icky towel water that enters my lungs…”

“That’s… umm… that sounds terrible… and, erm… Unlikely? Gee, P.S. what even gets you outside to like… by food and junk?”

Panic Station continued, her eyes widening as her pupils shrank slightly in her scared emerald irises. “I… almost never leave the shop… even to get groceries. I...I usually ask a pony to pick up stuff for me or have to barter away some of my goods for food.”

“Huh… so that’s why you let me pay for some of the towels with pancakes,” Spike mused.

Without looking up, Panic Station nodded. “Also, I usually eat a fruit and vegetable paste I make myself by using a rolling pin to crush whatever is given to me… that way there’s much less of a chance of me choking to death.”

Spike’s eyes went cross-eyed. “Wait… A rolling pin?”

“Yes… I know my chances of dying from rolling pin related disasters go up exponentially with a rolling pin in my house…” Panic Station clutched her tail tightly. “You don’t have to remind me.

“Er… No… I mean… Why, not get a blender for to make smoothies with?”

Panic Station let out a short, terrified shriek. “And increase the chances that I’d die of electrocution and swirling blades of death?! I don’t think so!”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Right… Why did I even ask?”

Panic Station glanced up and cringed as her body shook in terror. “Could you please not lean over me like that, Spike?”

“Uh… Sure…” Spike said as he leaned back off the counter and back to his claws. He chuckled. “Let me guess, even as a baby dragon I still look like a predator ready a strike?”

Panic Station got back up. “No, actually,” she said, her head poking up over the counter. “I was afraid some of your dragon phlegm would leak out your nose and onto my face where it would catch fire and explode.”

“Oh…” Spike sighed.

For a few moments, there was only silence in the air. Silence which was quickly filled with awkwardness that decided to occupy the vacuum left by the now absent conversation.

Oddly enough, it was Panic Station that shooed the awkward silence away. “So… out of scientific curiosity…”

Spike winced. “You’re not going to ask me to drink some weird, magical potion or stick my claw into a strangely musky and damp magical hole, are you? Because whenever Twilight or Starlight say that—”

“Gha! NO!” Panic Station interrupted. “I, uh, I just wanted to know why you stay… at the castle, I mean… I wouldn’t even live in Ponyville if it weren’t for the fact that I know the chances of me dying in a horrible move related accident go up substantially from zero percent if I tried to relocate… So what keeps you at ground zero?!”

Spike smiled knowingly. “Well, it can be hard…” he looked off in a random direction wistfully. “But there are some nights those two mares make it alllll worth it!”

“Uh… wow…” Panic Station replied. “Are you, erm… talking about love?”

Spike chuckled. “I suppose you could call it that…”

Panic Station wordlessly blinked. “But you’re just a baby dragon…”

“Why should that matter?” Spike replied.

Panic Station sighed. “You know what? I don’t know how knowing this is going to help me at all… In fact, could you take the towels in leave, please? I’m sort of afraid you’re going to sneeze in here and then I’ll be trapped inside my own burning shop and die a terrible death from smoke inhalation.”

Spike chuckled as he grabbed a stack of different colored towels even taller than himself. “You know that sounded slightly racist or speciesist against dragons… Aren’t you afraid what other ponies might think?”

“I live with the constant fear that my neighbors might destroy causality because their beds are too cozy!” Panic Station shook her head. “I mean… life’s way too short to… to…” Slowly, Panic Station’s eyes opened widely as her emerald irises seemed to shine with something they never had before, she suddenly stood straight up like a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. “Here, Spike… Let me come around and help you out of the shop with all that…”

“Uh… alright…” Spike said in mild surprise as Panic Station disappeared from behind the counter. A row of locks suddenly clicked on a nearby door which opened up and Panic Station appeared with a couple of brown saddlebags draped across her back. She walked gingerly past some lab equipment on display before staring down cautiously at a nice patterned carpet on the ground. Walking past Spike, she opened up the door to her shop, yet another door loaded with various locks, and held it open for him.

Spike waddled outside, the pile of towels swaying slightly before he made it to the front steps of Panic Station’s shop. Panic Station walked out with Spike, reached into one of her bags, and pulled out a single key which she inserted into a single lock of the door. Locking it, she simply turned and returned her key to the bag.

“Wow…” Spike uttered. “You actually came outside!”

Panic Station nodded. “It’s been quite a day… I mean… I think I deserve a treat.” Panic Station’s muscles moved into a slightly awkward smile that betrayed just what a foreign expression it was to the pony. “Maybe an extra thick milkshake complete with extra oats. I seem to recall Twilight saying they’re delicious.”

Spike chortled slightly as Panic Station led him safely down the steps in onto one of the cobblestone walkways of Ponyville. “Aren’t you… I don’t know afraid you’re going to choke on an oat or even be crushed by a tree on the way to the milkshake shoppe?” he asked as the two began walking down the path together.

“Terrified,” Panic Station answered, her smile faltering. “But… buck it… Might as well live a little before I’m consumed in horror-fire of some inconceivable shape.” Her smile returned all the brighter. “Do you want one? I made a pretty tidy profit today from selling my entire stock of towels and am feeling a bit generous.”

Spike peeked his head past the towels and look at Panic Station for a moment. “Aren’t you afraid that I’ll sneeze and melt your face off, or something?”

“… Well… I am now! But…” Panic Station glanced away for a second as the purple by her cheeks suddenly took on a slightly pink hue. “I suppose I could trust you to point your flames somewhere else or at least cover your mouth if that happened…”

Spike let out a laugh then smiled and shook his head. “I’ll have to take a raincheck. I need to get back to the castle with all these towels, plus I’ve left Twilight and Starlight out of my sight for like an hour… Who knows what crazy magic shenanigans those two have gotten into in my absence?” Spike let out a heaving sigh as his smile departed with the same air he blew out. “I bet there’s some sort of horrible, magical towel monster I need to take care of when I get back.”

Panic Station swallowed hard. “I-I’m trying really hard to not to think about that imagery… I’ll, erm, just let you get back to it so there’s a much higher chance none of us die horrifically today.”

Spike nodded. “Okay.” He smiled wryly. “But I’m holding you to that milkshake promise,” Spike said as the two hit a fork in the cobblestone path and Spike turned down one way and began walking away. “I don’t want such a cute pony like yourself hiding in that shop forever!”

Panic Station nodded. “It’s a date! AH! I mean… it’s literally a date… like… on the calendar! Because, uh… that’s how days work! Erm… even though we don’t know which date it’s going to be, yet… But it’s not… uh… like… a romantic date… Just… just a regular date… erm… Do you… do you really think I’m cute?!” Panic Station cringed. “No… just… just forgot I asked that… last part.”

“See ya, P.S.!” Spike called from down the way.

“Uh… right… See you soon… or later… Ugh… goodbye!” Panic Station turned and began trotting down the other path, muttering to herself, “I… I can’t believe I actually asked… I can’t believe he actually said he’d take me up on the offer later…” Her eyes opened widely. “I really, really can’t believe he thinks I’m cute…”

And so, Panic Station went on in a babbling trance, barely paying attention to the many, many stones she could have tripped over on the way to the milkshake shoppe, or to ponies with long, flowing manes that could have blown into her face, thus blocking her mouth and nostrils and causing her a slow, horrible death from asphyxiation, or even to the dozens of trees that might fall down and crush her.

Despite all of the potential unexpected ways to die Panic Station had just exposed herself to. She couldn’t, for the life of her, remember a time where she was nearly as happy as she was eating that milkshake.

-ooo-

One of the massive double-doors to Twilight’s castle was cracked open as Spike peeked his head inside. “Twilight? Starlight?” He called out. “I got the towels! Please tell me you two are out of bed now and can at least help me take them inside!”

“Spike!” Twilight’s slightly panicked voice called out. “We… We need your help!”

Spike groaned. “Let me guess… The towels DID soak up a bunch of the magical energy from the two portals and now the unworldly magic energies merged together to form some sort of towel monster that you two can’t defeat because it somehow just feeds off the magic you fire at it, making it stronger.”

“Well… uh…”

“Oh my gosh, Twilight!” Starlight exclaimed in mild annoyance. “Yes! That’s exactly what happened!”

Spike sighed and closed the door behind him as he began walking into the castle. “Oh man, I hate it when I’m right.”

“How did you know?!” Starlight called out.

Spike continued at a leisurely pace. “I’ve lived with Twilight my entire life, Starlight… And, no offense, but I’ve got a pretty good eye for crazy unicorns.”

“None taken!” Starlight called back. “Please help rescue us!”

“Yes! Please hurry Spike!” Twilight added. “For a creature made entirely out of towels, it’s pretty strong and we can’t really use magic outside of the dining room furniture we’re whacking it with!”

Spike grinned to himself. “Okay… but you know the price…”

Twilight’s groan suddenly escaped into the hallway. Through a door, Spike could see shimmering lights and hear the growls and snarls of something large and unworldly.

“Do we have to?” Twilight whined.

“Do you want to be saved quickly or just when I feel like it?!” Spike called back.

Twilight let out yet another groan that suddenly turned into a terrified shriek.

Spike broke into a sprint. “Twilight?!”

“Okay, okay!” Starlight screamed out. “We agree! Just save us before we’re, uh, towel food!”

Spike rushed into the room, his eyes going wide as he took in the scene in front of him. In the center of the room was a giant pile of different colored towels that snaked and shifted over each other as they were surrounded in shining auras of magenta and electric blue. From the center pile extended two arm-like appendages that each ended in three rolled up towels that seemed to serve as fingers that held on tightly to both Twilight and Starlight. Near the top of the towel mound where a pair of towels wrapped into tight orbs set in small indentations as if the creature had its own towel eyes. In the center of the massive heap of shimmering, slithering towels was an open fissure. A split surrounded by parted towels that resembled lips, much as if it was this bizarre towelstrosity’s maw.

Spike sighed and shook his head. “This sort of thing shouldn’t happen to a baby dragon…”

Spike felt his mouth go bone dry as he looked into the behecloth’s gaping orifice. Inside looked to be a realm that made even the driest, most desolate desert of Equestria look like a radically fun water park. He was roused from this momentary stupor by the screams of Twilight and Starlight who ineffectually beat the monster with the wooden dining room table and chairs.

Spike took a deep breath and stared resolutely at the monster. “Hey! Washcloth!” he called out.

Strangely enough, the creator took notice of the small dragon and even seemed to narrow its eyes as the some of the towels that formed its shapeless body began to jut off into a small tentacle-like appendage.

“Oh no, Spike…” Starlight called. “This was a bad idea! Just… run away! I’m sure you can come back with hel—”

“It’s okay!” Twilight called out to Starlight. “Spike’s not my number one assistant for no reason you know… He’s got this!”

The towel tentacle suddenly lashed out and wrapped around Spike.

“… I hope…” Twilight added as her plum-colored eyes began to fill with fear.

“Clean this!” Spike exclaimed as he closed his mouth and began a phlegmy inhale. Mere moments before the two ponies and one dragon could be pulled into a realm of unfathomable dryness, Spike spat out a gooey chartreuse loogie right between the ‘eyes’ of the creature.

Both mare’s eyes suddenly went wide with a different kind of fear. Not the fear of helplessness, but the fear of rapidly approaching destruction. As luck would have it, the towel horror’s response was to drop everypony it held and began wiping at its face with… well… itself.

Spike smirked to himself. “Yeah, I thought you’d do that…”

“Starlight! Duck and cover!” Twilight shouted as she rushed to a far corner of the room. She was quickly followed by Starlight as the pair telekinetically reached out for the wooden furniture and stacked it in front of them. This was immediately followed by both magic users putting up barriers, a translucent magenta barrier quickly englobed by an equally translucent electric blue barrier.

Knowing smile plastered on his face, Spike blew a small stream of fire up towards the creature.

The ensuing fiery explosion completely consumed the creature, the dining room, and even blew the crystalline door to the dining room right off its hinges.

Twilight and Starlight peeked out from around their impromptu furniture barrier, Twilight letting down her cracked and fading shield with Starlight’s own barrier having fallen prey to the explosion. They quickly tossed away their makeshift wooden barrier and galloped into the room that was murky with thick smoke, coughing as the heavy smell of burnt ozone and charred towels assaulted their nostrils.

“Spike! Spike!” both mares frantically called out into the swirling smoke as it stung their eyes, causing them to water. Both mares jumped slightly as they felt a light tap on their shoulders and both turned to see their dragon castlemate covered in blackened ashy smudges but smiling as if nothing had happened to him.

“SPIKE!” both Twilgiht and Starlight called out as they wrapped forelegs around him and began to each cover a cheek with nozzles and even a few thankful smooches.

Spike’s smile widened. “… You know my cheeks aren’t the only thing that needs kissing.”

Twilight and Starlight’s eyes widened as they slowly loosened their grips and backed off slightly from Spike.

“But… but… I have a headache!” Twilight moaned.

Starlight looked Spike up and down. “Don’t you want to at least get cleaned up before we do this?”

Spike shook her head and licked his lips. “Sorry girls! You rip open the reality hole, you pay the toll!”

Twilight let out one of her patient exasperated groans. “FiIiIiIiIiIiIine!” she moaned. “I’ll get the role-play props…” she said as she spun around and walked out of the room.

Starlight watched Twilight go then turned to Spike. “You know… considering you just saved us, I’d think Twilight would be a little less reluctant.”

Spike shrugged. “Well, she’s done this a lot more and has been doing it a lot longer than you.”

“Really?” Starlight said. She cocked her head slightly. “How long?”

“Since she was still a filly and I was a little more than half the size I am now. Heck, it was her idea in the first place.” Spike shook his head. “I don’t know why she didn’t think I’d want to do it at every opportunity from that point on.”

Starlight couldn’t help raise a forehoof in front of her mouth and let out a chuckle. “Oh, my! How scandalous!”

Spike scoffed. “Well, it certainly relieves some of my tension that builds up.”

Starlight grinned at Spike and rested a forehoof on one of his shoulders. “Well… as long as it makes you feel better…”

“Okay, ready!” Twilight said as she trotted into the ruined kitchen with a few items hovering behind her in a magenta glow. She floated over a golden scepter tipped on one end with a giant, faceted ruby, and Twilight’s smiling face on the end, a white, wide-brimmed hat with a red feather sticking out of it that Twilight floated onto Spike’s head, a golden ring with a big emerald gem on it that Spike hastily put on one of his claws, and finally a white sash with the word ‘MAYOR’ embroidered upon it in big, red lettering.

With an eye-roll that was impossible to conceal, Twilight threw her forehoves in the air then lowered them and her muzzle to the ground as she offered up an unenthusiastic. “All hail the Mayor of I Told You So Town.”

Starlight giggled and mimicked Twilight, though a fair amount more enthusiasm. “All hail the Mayor of I Told You So Town!”

“That’s right, girls!” Spike said as he leaned on his cane and adjusted his hat. He held out one of his claws. “Now kiss my ring.”

The End