Pink and Purple? More like BLUE AND YELLOW
It was a perfect day for a good book.
Well, actually, there were many days that were perfect days for good books. “Rainy April day in Princess Celestia’s conservatory just after teatime” was as perfect a day as “Second day of August while mom hangs up the laundry,” both of which were exactly as perfect as “Ten minutes after the first winter carolers come to the door.”
Twilight’s mom had often jokingly accused Twilight of having “too many perfect days for books.” Twilight, for her part, thought the idea of having “too many” perfect days was silly. Books made everything better, it was true — and if a book made things good enough that the rest of the day didn’t seem to have anything bad in it at all, then couldn’t it be called a perfect sort of day after all?
Twilight grinned as she skimmed through the pages of The Singularity: a How-To Guide. It was one of her favorite books; she had read it over a dozen times, which was over a dozen times more than either of her parents had. Admittedly, it was a bit fluffier than she would have liked, and it seemed fluffier every time she skimmed through it, but there were enough multivariable calculus problems in it to keep her at least somewhat entertained.
And that was another thing — Twilight was so sick and tired of her parents telling her that she should read different sorts of books. It all seemed like “blah blah less than two years out of your cutie mark, blah blah might not fully understand at such a young age, blah blah you should give The Boxcar Fillies a try instead.”
Twilight shuddered. The Boxcar Fillies, indeed. What did her parents think she was — some sort of dyslexic bumpkin? A filly had to grow up and tackle adult reading material eventually. Who cared if she was shorter than her mom’s withers, anyway? Maybe some sort of high-society, sniffy-nosed, monocle-toting aristocrat, but certainly not her.
But she wasn’t going to let those contrarian thoughts get to her. Moondancer had promised that she would be around if Twilight wanted to read with her, but the idea of sharing a perfect day with a reading partner made it feel somewhat less perfect, as if she had to share the perfectness or some other silly concept like that.
And it certainly was a perfect day for reading. Princess Celestia’s study was warm, with the windows open just enough to let a breeze in while keeping crowd noise to a minimum. It was her own little literary cocoon, where she could encapsulate herself in an ideal reading situation. Undisturbed by the events outside, she could—
The door to the study banged open.
“LEMME SMASH. PLEASE.”
Twilight sighed. Shining Armor stood in the middle of the doorway, bearing an absolutely manic grin on his face, all but radiating some sort of disgustingly animalistic musk.
“No, Shiny.” Clearly, her brother was in one of his odd, out-of-his-gourd moments. Twilight could have sworn she had warned her parents about this sort of thing last week, but it seemed like every time she tried to talk about this sort of thing, all they did was blush and chuckle and say things like “maybe when you’re older.” Whether they were deliberately ignoring her, assumed she was making things up or thought she was misphrasing her questions was up for debate, but it was utterly frustrating when—
“YOU WANT SUM FUK?”
“No, Shiny. I don’t want some fuck.” Twilight stopped staring at her brother’s flared nostrils and bulging eyes to check—
Yep. That was his penis, all right.
His massive, twitching, erect penis.
Gross.
Twilight shut her book. “If you fuck me again, I’m telling mom.”
“NO. NO, WAIT. I GOT YOU SOMETHING YOU LIKE.” Shining Armor barreled into the room, eyes darting from book to book in the study’s sensibly large wall of bookcases. Abruptly, he grabbed a battered, cornflower-colored copy of Infinite Mirth from the shelves and held it out in front of her. “I GOT YOU BLUE.”
“That’s not even the name of the book—”
“HEY GURL. YOU WANT SOME TAIL?” Shining Armor’s tail flicked in emphasis.
“Ugh! Shiny, stop it!”
“MY TAIL IS BIG.”
“No, it isn’t! Your tail is small! Leave me alone!”
“WOT.”
Shining Armor’s face fell. For a second, Twilight almost felt bad for him. Almost.
“SWIGGITY SWOOTY.”
“And that’s the reason I don’t really feel sorry,” Twilight muttered under her breath.
“YOU WANT YELLOW?” Shining Armor dropped the book, spun around, grabbed a butter-colored copy of A Feast for Cows and brandished it at her like a bludgeon.
“No.”
“SHE DOESN’T WANT YELLOW…” Shining Armor scrunched up his face in concentration, before grabbing Infinite Mirth off of the floor and holding both books in front of him. “BLUE AND YELLOW?”
“Shiny. I’m leaving.” Twilight set the book down on the floor and trotted over to the door. “I’m going to go read with Moondancer.”
“NO. WAIT. LEMME SMASH.” Shining Armor moaned in anguish as he dropped both books on the floor, gazing at the ceiling as if it was a portal to some extradimensional entity.
“WHAT HAS MY LIFE COME TO?” Shining Armor wailed. “TWILY THOUGHT MY TAIL WAS BIG.”
“I never said that!”
“TWILY USED TO LEMME SMASH.”
“And I regret letting you do that. My butt hurt for days the last time, Shiny. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go read—”
“NOW TWILY IS SMASHING MOON. MOON IS A HOE.”
“That’s not a nice word, Shiny! I’m telling mom for real!” Twilight huffed. “And if you tear up the study like you did the last time, I’m gonna double tell on mom and tell Princess Celestia!”
Shining Armor’s face contorted in rage. His horn glowed, and without warning books began to fly off of the shelves, thudding against the walls and windows and floor with muffled thwacks.
“FUCK THIS PLACE,” Shining Armor roared amidst the literary maelstrom. “FUCK MOON! I NEED YOU, TWILY! TWILY, LEMME SMASH!”
Twilight ducked as her copy of The Singularity: a How-To Guide sailed over her head and skidded over Canterlot Castle’s marble tiles. Twilight made a mental note to pick it up later, and bring that book over to Moondancer’s house. It was remarkably lucky, given how utterly pear-shaped things had gone over the last minute.
Twilight crossed over the door’s threshold, turning back to watch as Shining Armor scrabbled over the spilled books, sifting through them seemingly at random. “I’MMA GET THAT BITCH A BOOK. BITCHES LOVE BOOKS,” the Stallion declared as his penis throbbed, dribbling a thin trickle of precum over — Twilight was delighted to recognize — the study’s errant copy of The Boxcar Fillies.
“I’m triple telling on mom!” Twilight shouted at Shining Armor. Her horn glowed, and the study door glimmered with violet light.
“NEED BOOK. WRONG BOOK. BOOK, BOOK, BOOK, BOOK, BOOK, BOOK…”
“You’re gonna wreck my books! And Princess Celestia’s books!”
“BOOK, BOOK, BOOK…
“And mom’s books!”
“BOOK, BOOK, BOOK…”
“I’m quadruple telling on mom!”
“NEED BOOK. GOT BOOK.” Shining Armor waved the dribbled-on copy of The Boxcar Fillies in the air. “TWILY, I GOT BOOK! LEMME SMASH—”
Twilight slammed the door in his face. Her horn shone brighter, and the air was filled with the delightful crunching noise of the lock bending into all sorts of knots, guaranteeing that her brother would be shut inside. For the moment, anyway.
As Shining Armor shouted muffled epithets and entreaties for vulgar acts behind her, Twilight slowly walked towards her book and picked it up with her teeth. Mercifully, the paper tasted untainted by any foreign contaminate, particularly the foreign contaminate that was likely dribbling all over the floor in her (former) favorite reading space.
I might as well read with Moondancer, Twilight decided as she trotted towards the castle’s foyer.
After all, as far as reading went, today was rather far away from perfect.
