Outside, a purple and blue and black and pink swirl was the background and also the void. The lawn with its lonely tree was cut off in the near horizon. A white fence and a few bushes. The concrete path on the floating island of the lawn came from a wooden bridge connecting a cube that emitted electronic dance music as a few upside-down and side-ways islands winded side-to-side as if racing each other. Some of the grass on the islands were of different colors—one became like a waterfall and made a "grassfall" to a garbage truck that floated in the void, collecting the liquid grass.
Inside, green floor and beige bricks and periwinkle ceiling. Stairs that led to no room and to no part but the ceiling—and upside-down, too. Wooden-framed doorless door and an upside down window at the kitchen. A pitcher of no water, a three-legged table, a door on the ceiling.
Discord, meanwhile, sat on his couch, watching a floating display of popcorns with legs going up a slide while they were sleeping. He pasted mini notes on their legs; now, the mini notes flapped somewhat in the rush of it all. He yawned, giving himself ice cream as he did so by throwing it whole down his throat. He closed his mouth.
"So, what's it going to be for today? Chocolate-pizza with hot sauce and a bit of sunlight as a flavor is too old after a while. When 'whiles' last forty-five minutes." He sighed as he looked at his analogue watch—which emitted a strawberry scent. "Of course, I can always appoint the present to be a special day—or, a special minute." He placed a paw on his chin. Then, he scratched it, thinking.
"So, you're back to writing letters to Countess Color—I mean, Rara?" Twilight asked as she, Applejack, and Starlight Glimmer walked through the long, spacious hallway.
"Been doin' that ever since we re'nited at the Helping Hooves Music Festival!" Applejack said, beaming.
"What's she like?" Starlight asked. "I know she's one of the most popular musicians in all of Equestria, but I've honestly
"She's a kind-'earted mare who cares for the foals," Applejack responded. "She's out there, mostly 'thout a manager. Much o' the help she gets for her concerts ar' from ponies she inspir'd. This year, she managed to have Sapphire Shores be a guest artist—which is amazin' for us, but Ah' don't think it's hard for her, considerin' Pinkie keeps claimin' that Sapphire Shores is the second mos' pop'lar co'pared to Rara."
"Why 'Rara'?" Starlight asked. "Isn't her name Coloratura? So, I guess, a nickname, right?"
Applejack nodded.
"But, why 'Rara'?"
"'Coloratura' is too fancy to keep pronouncin' whenever ya' meet her."
"But, why specifically 'Rara'?"
"Ah could've called her 'Color,' but then how would Ah' talk 'bout actual colors? 'Tura' sounds like a new-fangled trumpet Ah've never heard of." She groaned. "Ah' settled for 'Rara' cause it rhymed and it's ver' short."
"OK?"
"But, Ah' have to ask," Applejack spoke up: "why is she still called Countess Coloratura? She said 'erself that she wants to be known as Rara, right?"
"It's because everypony's known her as Countess Coloratura for years. It's going to take a while for them to associate another name with her. It's easy for you because you have that close friendship with her, but it isn't for them."
"Ah' see. Nothin' malicious or anythin'."
Then, Discord appeared right in front of them.never heard sing."
"Tea or coffee?" Discord asked, showing the ponies a cup of tea on his claw and a cup of coffee on his paw.
"Uh, Discord?" Twilight said, looking up to him. "Could you at least give a little warning before you just pop in from out of nowhere?"
"Then, where's the surprise? It's boring if you expected me to pop in." Then, he walked to Applejack and picked up her hat. "Ah, yes, how's our local Apple pony doing?"
Applejack sighed. "Jus' fine."
Discord poofed another hat—identical as Applejack's. He wore it. "Now, I though of a brilliant idea!" Then, he glanced at Starlight. "Hi, there." He waved a paw at her. "Would you want some high-speed cloud transportation services?"
"You mean moving clouds?" Starlight asked.
"Yes, but I need to borrow a window first."
Discord zapped one of the large, tall windows on the wall and it disappeared, giving an unfiltered view of the outside with its bright, sunny morning sky with no clouds.
"Discord!" Twilight yelled.
"It's just temporary, Twilight," Discord said. "Give it, I don't know, a thousand years or so for it to return."
"A thousand?!"
Discord yawned as he zapped at the place where the window used to be. Then, the window came back. "There. But, it's quite grumpy because you've taken it out of its six-hour coffee break."
"I thought you said 'a thousand years'!"
"Either of them is true," Discord said as he relaxed on a recliner and drank some soda while shades floated down to his eyes—laying under the sunlight through the window.
Twilight and Applejack looked at each other. Applejack shrugged, shaking her head.
Starlight walked up to him.
He was still drinking soda and resting on the recliner.
"So, what are you going to do for today, Discord?"
"Oh, you know me, Starlight," Discord said in a relaxed yet tired ring. He threw an imaginary object away with his claw. "Cause some on-the-clock chaos that nobody expects—which Twilight clearly doesn't understand."
"Hey! I heard that!"
"Yes, yes. What a sad disposition she's placed herself in."
"Uh, it's not sad!"
Discord then pulled up his shades. "Applejack? Do you miss Rara?"
"Why, yes, Discord." Then, she covered her mouth, eyes wide open.
"Discord?" Twilight said. "Are you gonna—"
"Have a good day!"
He snapped his claw and he disappeared.
Twilight, Applejack, and Starlight looked at each other, turning their heads here and there.
"Why did he ask that all of a sudden?" Starlight asked, facing Applejack.
"Ah' don't know, but Ah' don't think he's gonna do somethin' good to Rara."
Then, a poof and Rara herself appeared in her blue mane and coat.
Rara and Applejack looked at each other.
Twilight took a step back. Starlight took a step forward.
"What?!" Rara and Applejack both shouted together.
"Next!" Sweetie Belle shouted as she took up another paper, straightened it with a tap on the pulpit, and cleared her throat. "This seems to be the last one. Out of three."
Apple Bloom and Scootaloo sat on the floor, watching her.
"'What happens if my destiny is pulling carriages for other ponies? Like a taxi stallion? Do I have to move out of my home and get into a place like Vanhoover or Fillydelphia or Manehattan? I'm scared to go there. From, Shady Daze.'"
A few seconds of silence passed as the Cutie Mark Crusaders pondered about it.
"I think that he doesn't have to go to the city."
"What do ya' mean?" Apple Bloom asked. "He can't stay here! If he does, he wouldn't be fulfilling his talent of taking passengers here and there."
"I mean, why not bring the carraiges here?"
"Bad idea," Scootaloo replied. "As nice as carriages are, they're still loud and rickety. I bet a lot of us would not like it if Mayor Mare decided to introduce a line of carriages for Ponyville."
"Hm. You're right." Sweetie read the letter again. "But, what else can he do? Especially if he gets his cutie mark early on. I don't want to see a colt having to go out to Manehattan all because he thinks that the only way to fulfill his destiny is to be a taxi stallion!"
"Well, he didn't say what the cutie mark would look like," Apple Bloom said.
"Yeah, he already said that his cutie mark means that he's going to be driving carriages for other ponies. It doesn't matter what it looks like—as long as it looks like it, then it's it."
Sweetie sighed, resting her head on a standing hoof on the pulpit. Then, she hopped out of the stool and went to her friends' level. "We can't just tell him to hope that it isn't that cutie mark. Helping ponies out by taking them to other places is not that bad of a talent. If he lived in the city, it wouldn't be so bad."
"That's the thing!" Scootaloo argued. "He doesn't live in the city. That's what makes it so painful if he has to leave Ponyville—he can bring his family, but he can't bring all of Ponyville with him. Not even just the class!"
"That wou'd be heart-breakin', wou'dn't it?" Apple Bloom spoke up.
"Of course, we can't stay silent about it," Sweetie said. "Shady Daze looks up to us for an answer. A definite answer."
"You mean we can't just say 'We don't know'?" Scootaloo quipped.
"No." Sweetie then paced the clubhouse's limited floor, her eyes narrowed a little. "We don't want to leave him in despair about his cutie mark. Sure, there millions of other talents and destinies out there that he can get—the answer we give him about a taxi stallion's talent would end up being useless to him. But, what if he does get it by rare chance? We have to help him cope with this problem, Crusaders!"
Then, a golfball was thrown in the air.
"Huh?" the three all blurted out together as they eyed the rolling ball.
It stopped right in front of them. Then, a poof—it now had a bushy mustache.
"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Scootaloo said, looking at the others.
"Ah' think so!" Apple Bloom responded.
"But, why?" Sweetie asked. "Why is there a golfball in the clubhouse? What's more important—why is there a mustache on the golfball? It doesn't make any sense?" She trotted to one of the windows and looked out. "Is there a unicorn playing golf?"
Apple Bloom trotted out to the other window. "Ah' don't see anypony with a golf club or' any golfin' 'quipment, for that matter!"
"Does your farm have a golf course hidden somewhere, Apple Bloom?" Scootaloo asked, walking up to her side and looking out.
"No, not that Ah' think of it."
"What if it's a secret message?" Sweetie suggested, a smile appearing on her faces.
Apple Bloom and Scootaloo gasped and turned around to face Sweetie. Then, Apple Bloom's happy face disappeared, becoming a little tight. "Uh, what makes ya' think that?"
"Nopony throws a golfball that has a mustache on it," Sweetie said. "So, whoever's doing this must be trying to tell us something!"
"Why not jus' send a letter?" Apple Bloom asked, tilting her head in perplexion. "There's nothin' wrong with good ol' letter-writin'."
"Hm. Good point, Apple Bloom," Scootaloo said, pointing a hoof at her.
"Maybe it's not meant to help us, then?" Sweetie suggested.
"But, who would do that?" Apple Bloom said. "Ya' can't say Diamond Tiara or Silver Spoon—they're a'ready nice and no bullies."
"Trixie?" Scootaloo said. "You think she's always trying to invent new ways of attracting an audience?"
"If that's the case, she should be doing that to a larger crowd of ponies," Sweetie said. "Trixie may not be a frequent visitor of the clubhouse, but she knows that there's usually three of us in here at most."
"Not to mention that Ah' don't see any smoke trails or anythin' magic-show-related 'round here," Apple Bloom said.
"So, the pool of culprits gets smaller," Scootaloo said, pacing the floor now.
"Uh, girls?" Sweetie spoke up.
The two looked at her.
"I have an idea: Maybe this golfball is distracting us from our goal." She paused. "Just look at how easy we went from talking seriously about Shady Daze's concern about his cutie mark and how it might affect his friendships with us and his own life to who was the pony who threw this mysterious golfball?"
"So, you're saying it's evil?" Scootaloo said.
"Not evil, just not right," Sweetie responded.
"But, who would do that?" Apple Bloom asked.
Meanwhile, Discord, hiding under the window, covered a giggle with his mouth. "None the wiser," Discord whispered, looking here and there as he watched out for anypony that could see him. "Sometimes, going back to the classic prank is the best way to go about a day. Can't keep it up for much longer, though." He quietly snapped his claw.
The golfball poofed away.
"What?" Sweetie yelled.
"Alright, this is too suspicious!" Scootaloo said. "A golfball just disppearing into thin air? You're right, Sweetie Belle! There's something very fishy going on!"
"But, think 'bout what Sweetie Belle said!" Apple Bloom called out. "If it's jus' a plan to distract us, then Ah' don't think they need to be talked to. Pro'bly jus' leave them alone."
"Apple Bloom's right," Sweetie said. "While the golfball may have served to distract us, what if the ultimate goal was to lure us into a trap by going outside? For all we know, they already rigged a trap right outside the door!" Then, the confident look on her face went away—replaced with a face of forboding fear. "Trap just outside our door?!"
Screams filled the room.
Discord went on laughing mischievously, still covering his mouth. "Isn't that good? That was completely, totally unexpected! Now, off to another—"
"Hi, Discord!"
"Agh!"
"Pinkie?" Apple Bloom asked, now eyeing the door.
"Discord?" Scootaloo said.
"Well, at least it's now down to those two," Sweetie went on, breathing heavily after the screaming session. "But, why would Pinkie build a trap?"
"Pranks," Apple Bloom curtly replied. "Remember?"
"Oh." Sweetie backed away a little, turning her face also a little away.
"But, doesn't she know that we're talking about a serious topic here?" Scootaloo said. "I mean, Shady Daze's future cutie mark and not the golfball."
Then, the door creaked open.
A static, comic display of Discord and Pinkie Pie covering each other's mouths as they faced the Cutie Mark Crusaders. Without moving, the mare and the draconequus looked at each other.
"Uh, hi?" Sweetie then waved a shy hoof at them.
The other Crusaders looked at her and mimicked her shy greeting, all of them wearing uneasy and confused smiles.
Pinkie Pie jumped out of Discord's grip and right on to the wooden floor. "Well, hiya'! Just visiting, don't you know, Crusaders?"
"With Discord?" Scootaloo asked, shaking a little.
"I don't even want to know what a prank made the by the both of you would be like," Sweetie said, trying to keep a calm composure. "But, you're welcome to come in, anyway. Besides, Discord—honorary member, remember?"
"Aww, it's nice that you still remember that," Discord said, walking inside. "Then again, I find it a little unimpressive, considering that it hasn't been that long since the last time we've met and that I've been alive for a long time—so, it seems even shorter to me, but that's beside the point, girls."
"What are ya' here for?" Apple Bloom asked, looking both at Pinkie Pie and Discord. "It's...interestin' to see you two together." She tacked a nervous, even forced, laughter on to that.
"I didn't expect to see Discord," Pinkie explained, pointing to herself. "But, I take what ya' give me!"
"What?!"
"I think that's 'Pinkie' for...nonsense," Discord added. "Non sequitur, kids! You'll be hearing a lot about that from me if you keep hanging out with her!"
Then, he disappeared in a white flash.
Pinkie and the Crusaders looked at where Discord had been. "I wish I could just explode into another place just like that!" She shrugged. "Oh, well! Catch you later, girls!" Then, she jumped away.
The three fillies looked on from the open door and watched Pinkie hop through the apple fields—even with an audible bounce with each contact with the ground.
They slowly turned their heads towards each other.
"Let's get back to Shady Daze?" Scootaloo asked.
"Let's get back to Shady Daze," Sweetie replied.
Then, they went back inside, Apple Bloom closing the door.
Birds chirping, crows crowing, chickens roosting, squirrels squirreling, rabbits nibbling, butterflies flying, ducks quacking, beavers beavering—among others as the harmonic noise of the various different animals from the outside of the cottage.
Inside, it was a peaceful and cozy home. Birdhouses hanging from the ceiling, simple and tall lamps standing there at the corner or in otherwise obscure places, bookshelves either carved out from the tree or on their own being prominent yet not significant to distract one's attention away, windows wide open letting in the cool breeze and the songs of the avian creatures—all decorated with the usual furniture of green, yellow, and red.
Fluttershy was reading a book on her chair at a small table. Her eyes moved here and there as sentences and paragraphs were seen and understood.
Then, a poof.
Fluttershy smiled a little wider as she turned her head around and saw Discord standing upside down on the ceiling. "Why, hello there!" she greeted. "What brings you here so...middle in the morning?"
"I've come for some chit-chat," Discord said, walking down the wall and on to the floor to orient himself rightly. "I hope you don't mind."
Fluttershy giggled a little, closing her eyes and covering her mouth while she giggled. "Why not, Discord? Today doesn't look that it'll be busy. I have lots of time to spare."
"Oh, goodie!" Discord said, rubbing his paw and his claw together in rapid fashion.
"I've gotten used to just being with you, Discord," Fluttershy said calmly and with an almost hushed voice, sitting down on one of the green chairs. "But, I still have to remember that I'm talking to someone far more powerful than the average pony. Or average creature for that matter."
"Don't you stoop that low, Fluttershy," Discord said, sitting on the other green chair, pinching her cheek.
Fluttershy facially responded with a quick reflex. She didn't retaliate.
"You're not the kind of pony that gives flattering remarks willy-nilly," Discord went on as he poured himself a glass from the coffee pot that was floating beside him. "But, I do love it when others flatter me with their adorations. It's not everyday they visit me, you know." He direct a paw at himself, his uneven pupils dead focused on Fluttershy as he wore a wide grin.
"I see," Fluttershy said, nodding slowly.
"So, I haven't asked you about those two ponies yet," Discord spoke up, extending his neck as he reached Fluttershy with only his head and his claw, cupping his ear. "Tell me, Fluttershy, how that tea pony and that tea set pony."
Fluttershy lowered her eyebrows. "You know they have names, right?"
"I'm a busy person, Fluttershy!" Discord said, retracting himself and shrugging from his place. "A schedule full of making a mess out of other ponies' lives—ahem! I mean, full of interacting with ponies in a rather unique way."
"Discord."
"Fine!" He brushed off the dust bunny on his shoulder. "What are their names, so I can at least meet the standard of respect around here?"
"The 'tea pony' is Jasmine Leaf, the 'tea set pony' is Raspberry Vinaigrette."
Discord put his paw on his chin. "Ooh? That's another name on the list." A list appeared and he wrote the two down with his coffee pot.
"Don't tell me that's your list of potential prank victims, Discord," Fluttershy said, her voice rising a little.
"They're not going to end up as victims, dear Fluttershy," Discord said, scruffling her mane with the paw. Then, he patted her. "This is a list that's so incomprehensible that only I understand what's in here."
"You just told me that you wrote down their names there."
"The list itself is comprehensible, but the purpose of the list—that is something so deeply complex that you should stop hoping to ever understand it in the slightest!"
"It's a list of prankees."
Discord grouched. "You're good."
Fluttershy smirked.
Then, he looked at the watch that poofed into existence on his wrist. "Oopsies! It's time to fly out and make like a tree!" He wore his orange hat, took up a briefcase, threw a golfball out the window and snapped his talons.
Then, he disappeared.
"Discord!" Fluttershy called out. "You didn't even say your—"
Then, she looked at the window.
She went to it.
The golfball was on the ground. It had a mustache on it as if the golfball was looking at her.
"Goodbyes?" she completed.
Cherry Fizzy, cashier behind the purple counter, trembled as he watched Discord enter the store.
"OK, OK, OK, OK, OK, OK, OK, OK—I have to stay OK!" Cherry Fizzle whispered to himself. "Whatever trick he's going to pull out of his sleeve, remember the number one rule when it comes to dealing with Discord when he's the customer: stay OK! How many OK's were that?" He held up a hoof and looked at it. "Wait, why am I counting like that when there's—"
"Uh, may you take this?" Lyra said, slinging a paper bag and several bits on to the counter. "Just a few cheese bottles and soda."
"Cheese bottles and soda?" Cherry asked, sounding surprised.
"I and Bon Bon are going to try out this new thing! Cheese-flavored soda!"
Cherry took the items out of the paper bag and slammed the buttons on the clunky cash register. "Lyra, do you think that that's a good idea?"
"It never hurts to try!" Lyra exclaimed.
"I wouldn't want to risk a hospital visit just because it's there for you girls to drink," Cherry said. Grabbing Lyra's coins and returning the change to her.
Lyra grinned, lifted the paper bag with her orange magic. "Thanks a lot!"
"Uh, you're welcome!"
Then, Lyra skipped her merry way out of the store.
"Alright, that's one normal customer out of the way so I can focus more of my efforts on—"
"So, I heard that cheese soda is the craze," Discord said.
Cherry's eyes widened. His blue irises shrunk.
He turned around.
"Why don't you then whip me up some of that store specialty, eh?" Discord said, leaning on the wall behind the cashier.
Cherry Fizzy gulped.
"Oh, I get it!" Discord walked towards the pony, taking slow steps as he did so. "You don't exactly sell cheese soda around here in these parts. Am I right? I didn't expect secret menus to spread to the supermarkets! It's something only those fast food chains should have—why should I trust you?"
"Look, Discord! I don't even own this place! I'm just a poor old cashier behind this counter! I don't deserve any chaos-based magical punishment or whatever! Just leave me alone, alright! Alright?! I've had one encounter with you and look what happened!"
"Oh, it wasn't that bad! I just gave you a ton of bits! I thought you cashiers loved your sweet cash, especially when they can come out of thin air!"
He snapped his fingers and a tiny pile of bits appeared on the counter.
"You're not going to—"
"Oh, I think I am, Cherry Fizzle," Discord said, crossing his arms. "I've found so many ways to irritate, to annoy—to confuse and deploy. Now, that didn't sound rhymy, wasn't it? Well, it did rhyme, but not in the idea department."
"Just do or don't do what you—argh!" He grabbed his head and slammed himself on to the counter top. "Why am I still here, a cashier! If I was part of the nobility, part of Equestrian royalty, I could at least do something about this by legislating some kind of 'don't-cause-chaos' law into the works. But, no, I had to be here!"
"Aww, you look kind of cute when you complain!" Discord then pinched his cheek.
Cherry sighed. "Do I have to live with you?"
"Most definitely so, mister," Discord said as he popped a bottle of cheese soda into existence. The liquid was sloshy and viscous—yet, it had carbonated bubbles rising up inside it. He took off the cap and glogged it down his throat. Then, he threw it away at the pile of bits which exploded into even more bits.
Cherry merely kept his mouth wide open at the strange conundrum that he was in now—seeing a chaotic spirit of chaos clasp his hands as he left the room.
Cherry wiped the sweat off of his face, now uttering mere single syllables as he switched his view between the entrance and the pile of bits. "I need to call an economist."
"So, Bon Bon!" Lyra said as they walked to the bench in the open park. "We've got some cheese soda on our hooves!"
"Uh, OK?" Bon Bon replied, half-closing her eyes in disgust.
They finally took a stop at one of the benches. They both sat down—Bon Bon on all four hooves, Lyra with two hooves hanging off the bench.
Ponies running around in the park, playing games, having picnics—over there, beside a tree, Twilight Sparkle and Spike along with Starlight Glimmer just chatting away. At another part of the park, in front of another tree, there were a few ponies painting something with their paintbrushes and their easels—some freely splattered paint on the canvasses, others methodically and excruciatingly pored over every single detail that they could find for the subject at hoof (whether it was a living creature or an inaminate object). Still, at some other section of the free and lush park, there were a few ponies simply sleeping ont he grass, snoring away the late morning.
Lyra popped the soda bottle open with her front hooves, eyeing Bon Bon with an ecstatic smile.
Bon Bon responded with a weak yet polite grin.
She pushed the bottle up Bon Bon's nose. "Smell the soda!"
"Yuck!"
Bon Bon pushed the bottle away, almost spilling it though Lyra caught the bottle and its liquid contents in time with her magic.
The Earth pony gave Lyra a sharp look. "I know you're proud of your invention, Lyra, but don't you think there could have been a nicer way about it?"
"Sorry!" she answered as she smelled it. Unfazed and undaunted, she kept smiling. "Don't you like cheese sandwiches? Not Cheese Sandwich, the party pony. Just cheese sandwiches."
"Just because I like cheese doesn't mean I like it in everything. I'm not going to lather cheese on the table and start licking it."
"Are you sure about that?" Lyra asked.
"Uh, yes."
"Are you super-duper sure about that?" she prodded, leaning closer to her with a smug smirk.
"Uh, Lyra?"
Then, she quickly retreated and glugged the concoction down.
A poof.
Bon Bon looked around. "Lyra?" She tapped her friend. "Lyra?"
She finally stopped drinking, wiped her sloppy mouth clean, and placed the bottle on the bench with a loud "thud!" The unicorn faced Bon Bon with a calmed down look. "You're missing out on a lot!"
"Uh, you, too."
Bon Bon pointed at the sign behind her.
Lyra looked behind her.
She gasped.
It was a large and moving sign—an attraction, even, filled with flashing lights, gaudy music that just turned on now, kinetic signs that proclaimed the existence of the cheese-soda-drinking unicorn known as Lyra Heartstrings.
"Eek!" Lyra yelled. "I'm not afraid to let other ponies know about my cheese-soda habit—"
"You just thought about it less than half an hour ago," Bon Bon bluntly interrupted.
"I know! That makes it even worse!"
She grabbed Bon Bon by the shoulder.
"Do you know what this means?!"
"That you're a laughingstock and that everypony will be embarrassed by you and will stop associating themselves with you for the rest of the day but it will all be OK by tomorrow because it was a one-time thing unless you inted to drink it everyday from now on?"
"Close!"
Bon Bon sighed. "Then, what is it?"
"They're tarnishing me!"
Then, a bottle of cheese soda appeared beside the unicorn.
The two looked at the newly-materialzed softdrink. "OK, this is getting weird," Lyra said. "I didn't do that."
"Then, who did?" Bon Bon asked, suspiciously eyeing her friend.
"I did," Discord said as he sat on a nearby fountain.
"Discord!" Bon Bon yelled. "You're the one who placed up that sign over there!"
"It didn't bring in ponies, so you can't blame me," Discord said, walking closer to the two friends. "But—" He looked off in the distance "—I brought in some company."
"What company?" Bon Bon yelled.
"Yeah, what company?" Lyra repeated.
Discord threw a paw behind him.
The two friends looked behind him.
Over the hill, three mares were galloping full-speed at them—carrying saddlebags of flowers and wearing flowers in their mane. Exhaustion was in their faces—they indulged in no smile as they ran.
Then, they skidded at the final stretch, finally fully stopping right in front of the two at the bench along with Discord just smiling with his eyes closed, staying as still as he could.
"So, we came here as fast as we could!" Roseluck yelled. "What seems to be the—" She glanced at the yellow soda bottle. "What's that?!"
"Cheese soda," Discord said, jumping to the bench and taking a seat, pulling the two together into a squeezing hug while being careful not to tip the bottle over. "Or, cheese-flavored soda. There's a slight difference between the two, and I'm happy to give you the answer you seek if you pay, I don't know, a few bits for that secret information, hm?" He cracked an evil smile, clasping his forelimbs.
The three flower mares gasped, putting their front hooves on their faces dramatically. "Cheese soda?!"
Then, they fainted on the ground.
Some seconds of silence passed between the unconscious ponies and the conscious creatures. The conscious creatures exchanged looks; tension was rising in the air.
"You decided to play a prank on Lyra with a sign that was basically useless in your prank, and you did this all just to see those ponies faint?!"
"A little unexpectancy is to be expected in the end, my dear," Discord said. "Be glad I didn't say 'deer.'"
Lyra brushed the bottles aside. "You have some twisted sense of humor, Discord."
"Just preparing myself for the big night tonight," he replied. He snapped his fingers and a snazzy orange suit appeared—with him already wearing it. He even had a fake mustache. "Comedy night!"
"They say that you're a horrible comedian," Lyra remarked.
"Why, that's hearsay!" Discord said. "I've been alive for longer than many of your ancestors and ascendants combined; I should know what good humor is after thousands of years."
"You did spend the last one thousand as a statute," Bon Bon said.
"I was still myself the whole time," Discord said. "You can overhear conversations and probably cherry-pick some jokes here and there."
"So, you stole them."
"They're not around to see the crime."
"Because you were a statue?"
Discord sighed. "Distorted logic." He removed his orange suit and hat. "Well, I must get off to the next destination!" He snapped his fingers and then disappeared.
Lyra and Bon Bon merely looked at each other. Then, they looked at the still unconscious mares on the ground.
"I think we should take them to the hospital," Bon Bon said.
"Yeah, I agree."
The two then carried the three mares out of the park.
The train arrived at the wooden station, slowing down to a stop. The doors opened and the ponies walked out of the train, some of them carrying or pulling wheeled bags, others having saddlebags with them, still some just went on to Ponyville with nothing but themselves.
Quibble Pants, in his mahogany explorer's clothes, was among the passengers who went down. A slight scowl on his face.
Then, Discord appeared right in front of him, reading a list with his spectacles. "Hmm, there's Junebug, Feather Bangs, Party Favor, Maud Pie—but she does live here."
"Hey, excuse me!" Quibble yelled.
Discord looked up from his list. "I was just about to get to you," he replied in an unexcited voice.
"I didn't expect a draconequus to suddenly pop up in my way!" Quibble complained.
"Then, lower your expectations," Discord said.
"I wanted to be here early," Quibble said. He brought out a white piece of paper from his shirt pocket. "I've received an invitation to go to Ponyville's Comedy Night tonight, and I'm not going to miss the opportunity of being early just because you appeared last minute."
"Just listen to yourself!" Discord said, planting a golfball with a mustache on his head.
Quibble looked up—or, tried to look up—at the golfball.
"'Early,' and then the next sentence has 'last minute.' Make up your mind, my good sir!"
"Are you nitpicking my words?" Quibble said. "I write Daring Do fan fiction, you know!"
"What good is that if it's not teaching you how to speak properly?" Discord asked.
"Uh—what?!" Quibble stomped the station's wooden platform with his hoof. "Just take me to Ponyville and leave me alone! Don't bother me at Comedy Night—last thing I want to see is you bringing up my so-called mistakes on the stage, which, if I remember correctly—" Quibble brought up the invitation again "—you won't be on. So, don't try to sour the event."
Then, with a grumble, Quibble stormed off.
Discord brought out a quill and wrote a check mark beside the words "Quibble Pants" on the list. "That's half of the invitees in Ponyville." He chuckled as he snapped his fingers and disappeared again.
Later, at sunset
The orange rays of the setting sun pierced through the window, giving the room an orange glow. Carpets, rugs, shelves and cabinets with pictures of smiling ponies on top.
Then, the five went out the door.
Lyra Heartstrings, Bon Bon, Minuette, Twinkleshine, Moon Dancer—all huddling close together as they chatted their way past the houses, past the stores, over the river through the bridge, stopping in front of Town Hall where more ponies were gathering.
At the venue was a simple stage—a wooden stage and a microphone stand on it. Several speakers were beside the stage.
A poster on the side displayed an artist's depiction of Pinkie Pie and Maud Pie, with the words "Ponyville Comedy Night!" painted in bright, colorful, bold letters. Pinkie looked ecstatic and was bursting with joy; Maud had a blank expression on her face.
The murmuring became louder as the crowd grew. More smiles appeared even before comedy night could begin in earnest—or at all. Already, jokes were exchanged, from the ones that brought ponies down to their knees in rancous and boisterous hysterics to the ones that had no effect on the hearers at all—or, they did, but they were annoyed and some even groaned at the hearing of it. A few even went so far as to plug their ears with their hooves when they felt that a bad joke was coming on.
Sunset became night as the sun descended and as the moon ascended, darkening the sky but adorning it with many stars.
Lights were turned on. Several burly stallions brought in more lights in the form of light stands.
As the talking went on, some of the assigned comedians were coming to the event.
Pinkie Pie was hopping very happily—eyes closed, mouth open wide with a grin, and party hat on head. Maud Pie was walking beside her, focused on what's ahead of the sisters: the stage.
Party Favor walked by, waving a balloon at those who noticed him. He smiled back at them.
Trixie, in her great and powerful magician's robe and hat, strutted her way through the center aisle, bringing in the attention of lots of ponies in the audience.
Rainbow Dash, flying in the air and performing aerial stunts and tricks, wowed the audience as they expressed their wonder with "Ooh's!" and "Ah's!" at her ability.
More ponies behind the scenes placed in the final touches: adjusting the stage a little to the left, focusing and refocusing the lights so that they won't sear the ponies in too much light but won't be too dim to dampen the mood of the event, preparing a table where anyone who was hungry would come by to have a fast snack. There were also seats at the table, so anyone who hadn't eaten and needed dinner badly would enjoy the nutrition of a full-fledged meal and the good-hearted humor of comedy night.
"How often does this happen again?" Twilight asked Rarity who was beside her in the middle of the muttering and uttering crowd. "I've lost track of the schedule."
"Ponyville Comedy Night is irregular," Rarity answered. "It comes when it comes. These days, it's up to Pinkie Pie, and we know how she is when it comes to regularity. She pretty much surprises us whenever she announces them because they're so unexpected, so out of the blue."
"Have you at least thought of asking her about it?"
"I have, one time," Rarity replied. "But, she just give me a crazy answer about how it's about the present, so I shouldn't be demanding a schedule for it, 'silly.'"
Twilight smiled. "Well, knowing that Pinkie Pie is handling comedy night always makes me look forward to it." She levitated the invitation. "I wonder who the surprise guest is. Last time, it was Cheese Sandwich—nice of him to stop by and visit."
"But, knowing Pinkie, it won't be Cheese Sandwich this time," Rarity mentioned.
"Because she's never invited the same surprise guest twice in a row?" Twilight said. Then, she placed a hoof on her chin, a thinking face appearing. "Well, if she really wanted to surprise us, she would invite Cheese Sandwich again. But, then, no matter how good he is, some of them would complain that it would be just like last time." Then, she gasped. "Or, she could fake it out! She could pretend that the surprise guest was Cheese Sandwich, but it turns out that it was a changeling, and then she would bring out the real surprise guest!"
"Darling, you're overthinking this whole thing," Rarity said. She turned her head towards the stage. "Just enjoy this night's comedy night just like we all did together with the previous ones."
Twilight let out a sigh of relief as she responded with a nod.
Then, the lights dimmed, darkening.
The hushed voices became louder. Bated breaths of excitement. Sudden, soft gasps. Ponies at the fringe of the crowd galloping in, making sure that they were on time and that they wouldn't miss a thing. A few premature laughs—followed by sneering commands to keep quiet.
A dark silhouette walked on to the stage.
Taps on the microphone.
Ear-breaking feedback as ponies covered their ears, sporting closed eyes and frustrated faces.
"Is this thing on?" Pinkie's voice blared and echoed through the speakers. "Testing, one, two, infinity, or—better version! One to infinithree!"
Loud roars and cheering from the crowd along with the stomping of hooves on the ground.
"Yes, yes, yes, Ponyville! It's the night that you've all been waiting for! This is no mere circus—oh, no, it isn't! Long awaited since the last comedy night which is some indefinite time ago, may I, Pinkie Pie, present to you, once again, with no further delays nor ado, for real and for sure, definitely and definitely so, absolutely-toodly now and at this present moment!—mares and stallions, this is Ponyville Comedy Night!"
The lights brightened.
Pinkie Pie now in full view, wearing a top hat, a fake mustache, a pair of big glasses, and a multi-colored bowtie. She took several bows as the crowd burst into approving applause. Then, she stumbled on to the ground in a failed attempt at another bow.
Already, there was laughter.
"Of course, slapstick is a classic!" Pinkie said as she straightened herself up and fixed her funny clothes. "Do you all agree, Ponyville?!" she shouted at the microphone.
The crowd responded with yet more cheer and applause.
"We've already moved past that old joke, though. Slapping each other with sticks? That isn't funny—it hurts, you know." She sniffled. "How it always hurts! Especially when it's a big stick—slap the stick across the face. And, I have to go to the doctor! Then, if it's too bad, I might have to be confined there for, what, months? This is the price I pay for being a comedian! Slap some sticks while trying slapstick, you go the hospital. Or jail—depends on who's the slapper." She smirked. "Who wants to be a comedian now, huh?"
The crowd howled in laughter, a few even falling down on the ground and rolling on it as they tried in vain to control their merriment.
Pinkie sighed, drinking a glass of water from under her top hat. She neatly placed it on the floor. "So, as always, there's a special guest for tonight! And, I guess you want to know who that special someone is!"
The crowd went quiet.
"If you went to the Grand Galloping Gala this one time, then you may recognize this fellow!"
"So, from Canterlot?!" a pony shouted from the crowd.
"Not from Canterlot."
"Where's he from?!" that same pony shouted.
"Well—" She added a bit of laughter "—let's just say that he's not from here."
"From the Crystal Empire?!" the pony guessed.
"I'm saying it's from Southern Equestria!" another pony shouted.
"My bets are that he's not even a pony!" yet another pony added quite loudly. "I say changeling!"
Pinkie shook her head. "All three of you aren't one-hundred percent correct. However, Toe-Tapper isn't one-hundred percent wrong, either! He isn't a pony! I don't mean that you're not a pony, Toe-Tapper. I guess it's pretty obvious, isn't it?" Then, she gasped. "Unless you're a changeling!"
Toe-Tapper scratched his combed blue mane, looking anxious and grinning shyly at Pinkie.
"Well, it doesn't matter! You're here to enjoy the festivities, aren't you?"
"Mm-hmm!"
Pinkie nodded, still smiling. "Let's close all the lines and I'll tell you who's our special guest for tonight!"
She cleared her throat.
"I'll just cut to the chase: Discord!"
Pinkie hopped out of the stage as a white flash of light appeared right in front of the microphone.
Discord, in his full snazzy orange suit (and hat), was there.
Many gasps, a lot of questioning looks and inquiries within the audience.
"Discord?" Twilight asked, both her and Rarity still in the middle of the crowd. "But, wasn't he—"
"I know, darling," Rarity interrupted, motioning a hoof close to about her face, "but it's been long enough since the last time he tried his hoof at stand-up comedy for the masses. I'm willing to give him a second chance."
"I hope he doesn't do something majorly bad," Twilight said.
"Oh, right." Rarity's demeanor diminshed. "Let's all hope that there won't be a repeat of what happened with the Smooze."
Twilight nodded.
"I guess all of you ponies weren't expecting me to be here on this special night," Discord said, holding up the microphone along with its stand high in the air. He eyed the audience. "But, I'm here. So, start expecting that."
The crowd was silent.
Grasshoppers filled the air with their chirping.
"Who let the grasshoppers go free?!" Discord yelled, looking off at one side of the audience.
"Whoops! Sorry!" a voice shouted. "I'll get them back in my jar!"
Discord sighed. "Already, this is going swimmingly." He tapped his foot on the stage, creating a constant thumping sound. "OK, everyone in the audience thinks I'm still horrible at this sort of thing. Maybe if I just don't think about it too much—but, then, that wouldn't be too good, either. Good humor is always thought-out well in advance, right?"
Then, he cleared his throat.
"May I offer you ponies a table?"
He materialzed a table instantly in front of him.
"You may ask me, 'What's the price of that table?'"
"Uh, what's the price—"
"Anyway, random pony, the price of this table is ten bits. Any questions?"
The ponies were silent.
"Alright, why do we say that tables must always have four legs? Some tables have more, some tables have less, but the standard table is always four-legged. I am here to change that standard once and for all! For, I shall give you—"
He pulled a white cloth out of the table and swiped it around, revealing something.
"—the eight-legged table!"
More grasshoppers chirping in the background. "Alright! I'm trying to get my grasshoppers!" the grasshopper-collecting pony shrieked.
Discord groaned, having a grouchy face. "Fine." He snapped his fingers. "Here's the punchiline."
The ponies kept looking at him. A cough.
"Look up." He pointed a claw at the sky.
Everyone looked up.
Discord slammed the door of his house and sat on the couch, sipping the cup out of his tea right after. He moaned. He lay down on the couch, cracking his bones and stretching his limbs. He rubbed his head, letting out a painful groan. "That wasn't a good idea, was it?"
The table in front of him didn't respond.
Discord went back to sitting on the couch. With one more sip of his cup, he said:
"Maybe letting a sea of tables fall on to Ponyville wasn't such a good joke."