What If...

Twilight opened the door, yawning. "Yes, what is it? I was just about to have my morning barrel of coffee when you rung."

The pony up front wearing sunglasses held up a badge. "We are the Plot Protectors, and we are here due to a complaint filed about your OP-ness."

"My OP-ness?" Twilight lifted a brow. She lit her horn, pulling her curly straw from all the way in the kitchen and the attached 50-gallon barrel of black coffee and taking a sip. "I-dee-kay, sounds kinda naughty to be inspecting that, sir. I'll need to have you check in at the DN before you can enter."

"The DN?"

"Deez Nu--" Twilight paused, completely forgetting what came next. She frowned, staring deeper into the sunglass'd pony. "What did you do to me?"

The nearly-invisible energy field around them dissipated at the press of a button. Sunglasses put away the remote. "Plot Armor, courtesy of our organization. If something goes wrong or we are put in any danger, this device ensures we escape unscathed."

"Wait wait wait, so you're saying that you have actual, literal plot armor?"

Sunglasses shrugged. "We work for an organization called Plot Protectors that brands devices such as our forget-me-not ray shield as 'armor'. I don't control what they name things."

"You have a Plot Device. Called Plot Armor."

"Yes. And if you keep standing there talking we'll need to take you in for resisting arrest."

"You aren't even a police force!"

Sunglasses held up a second badge. "We are certified by the Equestrian Department of Nuh-Uh. We have authorization by Princess Celestia herself to conduct this investigation."

"Wh--"

Twilight was then bonked in the head by a plot device called The MacGuffin™.