It all started with a romantic dinner date. A skype call in the candlelight. Each date had a TV dinner in front of their laptop. Hugh E. Mann thought he was the luckiest guy on the face of the planet. Online dating didn't sound like a great idea at the time. Around $243 is spent online per customer. Out of the billions of people who could end up in that twenty percent category of long term relationships Hugh thought he'd hit it off real nicely with this girl. A bonus that she showed interest in him. He wiggled in his seat hoping for to finally see her face.

Ivy League texted, "Sorry Magic Fingers, my device is on the fritz it won't show my face. :("

Hugh shrugged to himself. He tucked into his preheated tortellini. Fork hung from his lips as he typed back.

Magic Fingers (Hugh's username) replied, "Ivy, you never let me see your face! Every time we try to you know, get to know each other you back out of the big face reveal. Why don't you tell me about yourself?"

Ivy_League's message scrolled by, "Aw I'm supposed in bed by now. =_= I wish you were here. ^3^ Yesterday was the Summer Sun celebration. The town holds a big pageant every year for Princess Celestia to raise the sun and we party all night until the sunrise!"

Magic Fingers hesitated inquiring, "Uh . . . What is the Summer Sun Celebration Ivy? What is your favorite part of it?"

Thus the mysterious girlfriend diverted their conversation to everything else but herself for hours at a time. Hugh laughed along with her for two whole years. The autumn leaves were swirling around his front lawn when she told him about Equestria's annual Running of the Leaves. Hugh's clients tended to open up to him about all kinds of things once the tenseness melted away. A few of his colleagues even asked when Hugh would move in with the mysterious girlfriend.

"Come on spill the beans," exclaimed some colleagues, "What do you know about this woman? Is she nice?"

"She's wonderful!" exclaimed Hugh, "Did you know the country she lives in is run by two Princesses. Well queens really, and they are really devoted to protecting their people. The geography is pretty interesting too. Instead of Las Vegas. She thought I had family in Las Pegasus! Can you believe that?"

The colleagues' lips practically pinched themselves as they exchanged nervous looks. It was as plain as day. Hugh was helplessly in love. From the outside looking in however, something was off about this woman. Everyone in the room knew it.

"Look Huey."

"It's Hugh," corrected Hugh E. Mann

"Well whatever, she's talked so much about her homeland," another colleague helpfully butted in, "That I think she's dodged a special subject."

"Like the holidays, or the festivals?" Hugh obliviously asked, "Or the adorable photographed image of a wedding ring surrounded by money?"

The colleagues exchanged another piteous side glance. They decided Hugh was too in love to see the blatant obviousness. To spare his feelings they tried to break it to him gently. The first colleague had to get a step stool in order to reach up and squeeze Hugh's generous bicep. The other one guided him to the door.

"Like herself?" she exclaimed. The other colleague nodded in agreement. Hugh chuckled in disbelief.

"Oh c'mon this is the girlfriend I'm moving in with, she's told me lots about herself," Hugh interjected.

The colleagues rolled their eyes. Doubt started coiling into ice in the pit of his stomach. Ivy never showed her face. Ivy never revealed her age. Ivy League was a user name. It had to be. Ivy didn't lie to him about herself did she?

"But did you fall in love with the country?" asked colleague one.

"Or did you really fall in love with the girl?" chimed in colleague two, "You keep raving and praising her but she hasn't even told you her likes, dislikes or what about her country is so important to her."

"Both?" Hugh guessed hopefully. Unbeknownst to him, this lovely couple he and Ivy made had crossed their lucky stars for an unlucky encounter.

Meanwhile, in the magical land of frequent accidents Ivy had swore up and down she had a boyfriend coming to live with her in Equestria. The duplicitous lady known as Ivy League had arrived earlier than her well to do friends to the ritzy cafe and opened her saddlebag. She pulled out a cup and poured in enough bits to reach the glazed edge. Waiters didn't pay her any heed for where she put her hard earned bits. Ivy pulled at her dress collar. She pushed up one sleeve to check the time only for her bag to start vibrating off the hook.

She flashed the unicorn waiter a manic grin. Her bag kept vibrating across the floor akin to a cicada turned handbag. She pulled it in with her teeth

The waiter stared at her nonplused inquiring, "Your order . . . ma'am."

"Just a minute," she singsonged.

She pulled out the cup of the bag and whispered into it. "What now!"

In her bag she had an Eartherware goblet. The Cup of Pythagoras engraved on its outer rim. A hole in the bottom. A gritty outside sparkled with a smooth matte glaze inside the cup. Water started to fill up the cup before a tiny humanoid head popped out.

"Lady Ivy League it's your future husband," warned the Nymph, "I am afraid he is getting cold feet."

"Urgh and Spoiled Rich had handled the marraige and everything!" she whined.

"Well if someone quit lying than somepony wouldn't be in so much trouble now wouldn't she?" the nymph mocked.

Her hindquarters wiggled every which way. The customers craned their necks watching the green Earth Pony's hind legs prance in place. Foals laughed openly from their high chairs at the funny lady. Wannabe Trendsetters turned up their noses at Ivy League. For the elites of Canterlot first impressions were everything. To the waiter currently poking her just above the withers he didn't care. He got paid good money to put up with all this bologna.

"Shhh! Sh! Sh! Shhhh! Tell him anything! Please! Just get him to Equestria in time for the wedding!" she begged into the purse.

"Ohhh?" asked the nymph. He cocked his head, equine pupils glinting, "Are you sure~? Any other conditions?"

"I don't care!" she snapped. Stress had sweat clinging between her clothes and fur, "I'll do anything!"

The nymph sobered up. Willingness to do anything seemed a tall order. He pulled the rest of himself out of the cup. Leaning over the side. Green bushy curls swiped around his ears. Eyes closed. The Nymph's face split into a condescending smile.

"You owe me more bits," yawned the nymph, "Oh! and party food! Those little hot dogs on sticks!"

Ivy League glowered around puffed up cheeks. Her temper whistling to new heights like a tea kettle until the steam wheezed out of her nostrils. The unicorn waiter for the past ten minutes had been poking her back wondering when she'd stop sticking her head in her bag to scream. Ivy League fell into her seat with a huff. Realization cantering full tilt, she didn't know enough about her magic husband to be a convincing fiance and now the people who jumped to conclusions to arrange this whole thing were coming any minute. She sighed through her teeth.

"I'll have that platter of the party dog platter," she answered, "Oh and a salad please just for me but not really um."

She tittered nervously when the waiter, jotting down her order, quirked up on eyebrow. Stone Faced sneered down his nose at Ivy. Lips competed with his goatee for lowest feature on his face. Beads of sweat dotted Ivy's neck. Her dyed red updo threatened to unfurl from its bobby pinned prison.

"Don't care . . ." Stone Face shrugged. His pen and pad seemed to manipulate themselves to the tune of the sparkling white aura that matched the white glow around his gray horn. He tapped the table with his other hoof. ". . . Leave tip. Tell me your order."

"I'll take whatever's cheapest on the menu with a small tray of party dogs," Ivy sighed, "with water."

Her head hit the table with a huff. Ivy had earned her cutie mark after watching her parents work themselves to the bone earning nothing and gaining less for their effort. Ivy had made it her goal to marry a rich husband and rob him for all his money if it could keep her from becoming that. Unfortunately the cheery bell tinkled announcing her little entourage coming in. She moaned into her forelegs. Earning a Mrs. Degree in canterlot was harder than it looked, she relaxed her face for two seconds before schooling those features into another cocky leer.

The groups when they met on the battlefield exchanged pleasantries and tipped their teacups proper but all that yes ma'am, yes ma'am served a sinister purpose. Fleur De Lis led the gaggle en force. She squealed happily welcoming Ivy League with open arms. Fleur was wealthy, her marriage was healthy, and her status was influential. Everyone followed the Mare without a fuss but the underlings bickered and backstabbed each other by themselves. They were all smiles and happy greetings when Fluer's face was turned but as soon as her gaze was askance. The frowns erupted across each face.

Ivy wailed on the inside. Her fear crawled out in a clenched whinny between her teeth.

"panopleia oikopedo, panopleia oikopedo, panopleia oikopedo," Ivy chanted beneath her breath. The little mantra activated the ancient runes swirled around the cup. While Fluer was quite fond of Ivy's company. Her self-appointed flunkies inspected the table.

Spoiled Rich had gotten a nose job a few years after she married Filthy Rich, the owner of Barnyard Bargains, to look just like the models in Manehatten. Ivy wondered if it did something to affect her sense of smell too. Her sneer fit the frown lines on her face like a glove. Crow's feet were just a mold for wide green eyes used to scowling.

"Hot Dogs? Disgusting," she snapped, "Ponies eat only plants not this drivel."

She pushed the plate away with a hoof before slamming her haunches into Ivy's chair. Ivy bit her lip.

Jet Set nodded her approval until it was also her cue to sneer. "It is quite disgusting. Hot dogs do not beset a certain degree of dignity and refinement."

A hand snapped out of the cup, stealing the tray. Ivy hid her surprise. Jet Set let out an eep. Fleur Des Liss scrunched her brow in confusion wondering if a skinny Minotaur lived inside that cup. In Equestria, magical accidents had occured on a larger basis than anyone thought. Rumors had it that if Princess Celestia sent her champions, or the Royal Guard, in to handle the mess than it was really bad. She didn't hear any news from Cadence about her husband being sent on an emergency or her Sister in Law and friends fighting off a vicious monster. So, that left Magic Artifact and mysterious spirit inside. Fleur usually would've taken her friends aside and warned them how dangerous it was to let magic or money solve all your problems but Ivy League bit her lip. She was surrounded on all sides by the neighborhood ninnies and to keep Spoiled Rich and Jet Set from lighting into the new comer, Fleur swallowed her pride and ran interference.

"It's fine," Fleur waved the situation aside and threw the waiter a big tip so he wouldn't talk, "In fact vegan hot dogs have been all the rage with pony's in the Griffon Kingdom. Why what better way to feel included by letting people get to know each other."

Stone Face's eyes roved from the unicorn's head to the bits across the floor. The tension could cut a knife but Ivy raised her head and pulled out everyone else's chairs before seating herself. Ivy had done this song and dance number for four years. She knew she could nab this husband and make off with the rest of his fortune within a year.

Fleur cupped her chin in one fetlock. Her mane cascaded down her neck to overflow across the table. Ivy blushed to her ears. Ivy pulled her hat over her face with a keen.

"So why don't you tell me about your fiance," encouraged Fleur.

Ivy League peeked out from under her hat. She took it off revealing the purple roots in her red mane. A smile slowly inching across her face as she started to chitter about her fiance, Magic Fingers.

"He's very influential and rich in all the right places," Ivy League lied. Unlike Hugh Ivy had a much easier time talking to them about her future husband "Magic Fingers", "When he isn't working for private highly influential clients, Magic Fingers works as a nude model for the local art schools and anatomy books. Quite a caring soul. He just exudes relaxation where ever he goes."

Jet Set and Spoiled Rich giggled in glee.

"Oh it will be so wonderful to put him to good use," Spoiled Rich crooned. Her mind pulling fantasies involving manual labor and private services. Those didn't involve her of course. She was the dream pony sipping champagne from her personal deck chair. The imagined husband was going to do the dirty work.

"Sounds delightful," parroted Jet Set. She had a much more vivid imagination of the same dream. It just felt too hard to imagine something else, "Is he handsome too?"

"Jet Set!" Spoiled Rich gasped.

"What? A nude stallion model is so ironic" Jet Set balked, "We don't wear clothes anyway. Models are delightfully sexy."

The blood ran from Fleur's hoof tips to her cheeks. Poor girl. That lovely white fur simply emblazoned the blush across her cheeks. Ivy League listed every one of Magic Finger's finer points. The cup belched sending toothpicks flying in every direction. Stone Face levitated a spare tray. Toothpicks showered down. The little sticks sailed into Stone Face's flying trash can.

At the bottom of the Pythagoras Cup, it's contents opened into a vast living space. Cushions surrounded the center table. A Kitchen to the left. A gorgeous bathroom to the right and center sat the little nymph. The table's mirrored surfaced split in two.

On one side Hugh texted Ivy several times but had no answer for several hours. The fall leaves swirled across the sidewalk. Empty trees thrust their jagged branches to the sky. The long man frowned into his phone. Swirls of doubt lit up the runes like a lamp light in water.

"My current master is willing to do anything," sighed the Nymph, "Really, such recklessness. Do you see what I have to work with? I don't want to destroy the world again. I'll end up destroying lives."

Gold hailed onto the Nymph. He glanced down at the table. A new message appearing from the powers that be.

Your next residence is going to be a chamber pot if you don't meet supply and demand.

The Nymph growled in his throat, surrendering, "Fine! By the powers that be I give my command. A request so bold to destroy lives at hand. Desperation has turned you shallow as a puddle. Shall you accept all the consequences of the wish you have muddled. To your wedding he will attend but by his choice alone will your pathetic farce end. Blech."

The nymph shoved another hot dog into his mouth to wash out the bad taste left by the incantation. He was quite angry at this prospect. Now all that was left was to forge a passport, fake another signature, and urge Spoiled Rich to push ahead with the wedding plans. Ivy League's wish was going, unfortunately, smoothly as usual. It was amazing how lax the Powers that be had become when they said anything goes including death, crime, and maybe some more scams to pull . . . again.

"I hope you're happy," The nymph griped, then taking a deep breath, "Happy someday."

Sometimes the nymph wondered if the wish truly was worth the reward.

Author's Note

Welcome to the first chapter of this story. It seems to be starting slower than I'd like it to be. Hopefully I got Fleur De Lis' name right. but in this chapter I want to establish the situation before it goes downhill. Thank you for reading all the way to the end.