Twilight Sparkle Wants A Sponsorship Deal
Twilight Sparkle trudged inside the castle kitchen with a grunt; the heavy bags under her eyes only lessened by the firm frown on her muzzle. She eyed the coffee pot and found it empty, causing her to grunt again.
“Morning, Twilight!” greeted Spike, pleasantly munching on some gem cereal.
A third grunt from Twilight, before she used her aura to flip open a number of kitchen cabinets.
Spike grimaced. “Not sleep well?”
“You could say that,” Twilight answered bluntly. She opened up a seventh cabinet before slamming it shut. “Seriously? We’re completely out of coffee grounds?” After a calming breath, she sat opposite Spike at the table. “I take it you slept well?”
“Yep,” Spike answered with a colorful mouthful.
“Lucky. I keep having this recurring dream all week involving Princess Luna trying to sell me pillows. Not just any pillows, mind you. Pretty Princess Pillows. Even has a tag line: Sleep like a Princess. Hello? I already am one!”
Spike chuckled in-between bites. “Oh, right! I remember those dreams. Had them all last week myself.”
Twilight perked up at this. “What? You mean… I wasn’t just having them randomly? It was actually Princess Luna trying to sell me stuff in my dreams?” Her eyed widened in shock. “No wonder it was all so vivid. Twenty bits a pillow. Memory foam. Luna’s trademark cutie mark on the side. But you said you slept well last night. How? Did you ask Princess Luna to cut it out or something?”
“Better,” Spike said, reaching underneath himself to grab at something. Once displayed, he sank a good six inches. “I bought one.”
Twilight stared at Princess Luna’s Pretty Princess Pillow blankly. It did look soft, she had to admit.
“And honestly,” Spike continued, “I’ve never slept better. It even helps eating at the table. No more sitting on cheese wheels for Spike!”
“Please don’t sit on the cheese wheels, Spike,” Twilight murmured, seemingly hypnotized by the product of her dreams now made real. “Those are for company.”
While Twilight busily glared, Spike hopped off his seat to make his way towards the fridge, mentioning something about coffee grounds and the market. Then something solid went smack! causing Twilight to jolt.
“What was that!?”
Spike shrugged. “Just making a note to pick up some coffee later. Anything else we need?”
Next to Spike, deeply embedded into the fridge door, was a piece of wood carved into a spike. Twilight flew over to investigate.
“Just what is this?” she demanded.
“A Spike’s Spike,” Spike answered earnestly.
When Spike didn’t continue on, Twilight asked angrily, “And just what is a Spike’s Spike? And just why is it currently stuck in our fridge?”
As casually as could be, Spike grabbed another Spike’s Spike to show it off—including the carved picture of Spike near its tip. Carefully, he used a claw to write out another message: “do not stick spike’s spikes on the fridge” then added “do not sit on company’s cheese wheels”.
“Don’t know why you’re getting so heated, Twilight,” Spike told her. “They’re only five bits a spike and they work great when you need to write something down and not forget it.”
Angrily, Twilight blew a strand of mane from her eyes. “Something wrong with post-it notes suddenly? Or strips of tape? Or… anything that doesn’t leave a giant hole!”
“But are you really gonna forget anything written down on a spike? I know if I saw a Spike’s Spike stuck to my bedroom wall, I’d totally remember I had to repaint the place. Plus… who said it was only for remembering things? Duh! Perfect paper weight!”
Without warning, Spike took his Spike’s Spike and stabbed the closest thing at hand. Which ended up being a coffee table book, right at the very center of its cover.
Twilight shut her eyes tightly. “You do realize you just ruined my first edition Visual History of Donuts book, yes?”
Spike removed his spike from the book and began flipping through. “Doesn’t look all that ruined. My spike went right through all the donut holes. What are the chances of that?”
Twilight couldn’t take much more of this. She needed coffee. Bad.
Spike smirked. “Who knew my wood was so good at plugging holes?”
Twilight mentally screamed. Then dashed from the castle.
***
Derpy Hooves was the first one to greet Twilight as she entered Ponyville’s marketplace. The moment she could, Derpy shoved something small and grey into Twilight’s face.
“Only seven bits, Princess!” Derpy happily exclaimed.
“For—” what? Twilight was about to finish, before taking a look herself.
In Derpy’s hooves were two tiny snow globes glued together with large pupils lazily bouncing around inside instead of snow. Surrounding these was a cardboard cut-out of the top-half of Derpy’s head. A Derpy Hooves styled snow globe, basically.
“I’m good,” Twilight squeaked, before trotting past her.
Twilight didn’t make it another six paces before she overheard Bulk Biceps shouting about his brand new Bowflex workout machine—which technically was nothing more than a bow he held over his head before flexing with it.
Another six paces. Another odd sight.
This time it was two ponies Twilight never thought she’d ever seen together. Or ever would.
In the middle of the street stood Big Mac. Next to him, the Cake family’s son, Pound Cake.
“I’m a Mac,” Big Mac declared loudly. “And this here’s Pound Cake. Or P.C. for short. Which would you trust come harvest season?”
“Neither!” Twilight chirped, rounding a corner and thankfully coming upon a familiar sight. “Rainbow Dash! Am I ever glad to see you. Do you know what’s going on with everypony? They all seem to be trying to sell me—”
Then Rainbow Dash turned around, effortlessly ending Twilight’s sentence.
On Rainbow Dash’s head was a hat. Around her chest, a shirt. Both had the same image of her smiling face, along with the slogan, “Now Twenty Percent Fruitier!”
Twilight was at a loss for words. “Not you too! So, what? You’re… selling yourself? Are you a brand now? And… now you’re twenty percent fruitier? I’m confused.”
Rainbow Dash waved a hoof with a snort. “Please, Twilight. As if anypony could afford me. Nah. I’m just out selling these new Awesome Apple Chunk Bars! Now with twenty percent more apple and four percent less chunk.”
Twilight wrinkled her nose. “What’s chunk?”
“You know the stuff in food you don’t like?”
“No.”
“Well, it’s that! And now there’s four percent less of it! Meaning that every Awesome Apple Chunk Bar is now one hundred and seven percent better than before!”
As tempted as Twilight was to check Rainbow’s math on all this, another familiar sight pulled at her. Hopefully a familiar sight that came with coffee.
Hopefully.
***
“What do you mean you don’t have any coffee!?” was Twilight’s literal first sentence upon entering Rarity’s boutique.
Rarity stood behind the counter awkwardly, mouth slightly agape. “Good morning to you, too, Twilight. And, yes, how did you guess? I only have tea at the moment. Would you care for a cup?”
Shaking her head to clear her mind, Twilight made for the counter and took a seat on a pillow. A Princess Luna’s Pretty Princess Pillow, to be exact. She had to clear away some pastries and sweets before she could, though. And then some more of them off the counter.
“Sorry for the outburst, Rarity,” Twilight began. “I guess I was preparing for the worst. I’m only looking for a little caffeine. Just a bit! Just to help me think. Whatever’s happening around town’s really got me agitated. You notice anything strange lately?”
Yet something strange was happening right in front of her. As Rarity made her way back to Twilight (with tea cup in aura), she had to carefully sidestep nearly two dozen plates of various edibles and treats. All clearly originating from Sugar Cube Corner.
“Bit of a sweet tooth this morning?” Twilight asked curiously.
It took a moment for Rarity to understand, glancing around her pastry-loaded shop. “Oh? All this? It didn’t all come in today. Some of it’s from yesterday or the day before. Did I never tell you?”
“Tell me what?” Twilight sheepishly nibbled on a nearby cherry strudel. She thought the sugar might help.
“I’m the new sponsor of Sugar Cube Corner.”
“Ohhhhhhhkay.” Twilight munched on her day-old pastry. “And since when have you had an interest in baking or even pastries in general?”
“Since I had the most brilliant of marketing idea!” Rarity nearly sang. “Picture this, Twilight dear! Rarity, everypony’s very favorite of dressmakers, falls into a deep depression one summer and gains nearly three hundred pounds! What’s the solution?”
“Diet and exercise?” Twilight added, unheard.
“A diet consisting solely of Sugar Cube Corner treats!” Rarity finished loudly.
“You do realize too much cake can make you fat, right? Unless you’re Pinkie Pie, obviously.”
Rarity tittered. “And that is precisely why Pinkie Pie was not offered the job. Her metabolism is, well… let’s just say it doesn’t exist. But your friendly neighbourhood Rarity? Everypony can trust a pony like her!”
“But aren’t you forgetting one thing?” Twilight questioned sharply. “That fact that you’re not three hundred pounds overweight?”
Rarity raised a well-groomed brow. “You dare to question my sewing skills, dear?” Then, like some practiced magician, Rarity disappeared beneath her counter, only to reappear a second later, six times larger than before. “Ta-dah!”
From the sight, Twilight immediately spat out what strudel remained. “Now you just look like a giant marshmallow, Rarity. One I doubt could even fit through the door right now!”
“So, in other words… convincing?”
“More like deplorable,” Twilight told her sternly. “You do realize if you go ahead with this, ponies will actually think they can lose weight by eating nothing but cake and pie.”
“As long as they take teeny-tiny bites, they can. Perhaps throw some of it over their shoulders when nopony’s looking.”
Twilight shook her head, clearly ashamed. “You’re going to have a lot of overweight, angry ponies on your hooves if you do this, Rarity.”
Unperturbed, Rarity literally rolled her way towards another section of the shop. With gusto, she unveiled a brand-new line of clothing: The Chunky Champions Collection.
“What a way to stay ahead of the curve, am I right?”
Before leaving in a hurry, Twilight told the greedy mare, “When I get this all sorted out, you and I are going to have a very stern friendship lesson about this. No songs. No dancing. One Spike joke max. Definite two-parter.”
It seemed that last line did it, as Rarity gulped dryly. She then rolled her way back towards the shop’s counter to call the whole thing off.
***
Before Twilight made it all the way to Canterlot, she stopped off at Fluttershy’s to see if the “sponsorship” plague had claimed her too. Turned out it had, as the pegasus happily explained how she’d randomly become the official voice of Barely Audible Book Readings. Putting a new vinyl into her gramophone, Twilight hardly got through two soft spoken lines of “A Tale of Two Kitties” before wanting to curl up for a nap. Pretty Princess Pillow included.
Applejack wasn’t much help, either, even if she was one of the only ponies around that had turned down any sort of deal. As far as Applejack was concerned, “Apples were the solution to everything, no matter what the problem.”
Twilight then did the silly thing by asking the cowgirl if apples could cure her rising headache.
One well-thrown apple to the knee later, it turned out Twilight suddenly did have bigger pains to deal with.
And, finally, after what felt like one very long morning, Twilight cornered Princess Celestia in her office—an office more dim than usual, given that each and every window was blocked by a thick shade.
“Morning, Twilight,” Celestia greeted calming. “I had a feeling you would arrive soon.”
Rather than formally greet her teacher, Twilight instead went straight for the coffee pot on the desk and busily drank from it. Afterwards, she added a few sugar cubes to the mix and sat on a chair with the pot hovering closeby.
“Care to explain?” Twilight spat out between sips.
“Explain what?” Celestia asked earnestly.
The rumble of construction sounded off behind her. Celestia ignored it while Twilight did not.
“Why it seems as if everypony in Equestria is either sponsored by someone or trying to be. Are there some money troubles I don’t know about that maybe I should?”
“Truthfully,” Celestia began, as the noise of metal against metal again sounded from outside. “We are in a bit of trouble, actually.”
Cautiously, Twilight slid to the side to get a look out the window. She moved one of the shades to get a peek. She honestly wished she hadn’t. “Really, Celestia? Another solid-gold waterslide?”
Celestia’s face flushed. “That slide was under construction before any of these money troubles arose, that I promise you.” She paused, adding sheepishly, “Plus, how else were we supposed to connect the bouncy castle trampoline to the new taco-shaped pool?”
Twilight growled. “So, that makes… what? Two taco-shaped pools?”
“Don’t be silly, Twilight. That first pool was burrito-shaped.”
Twilight’s silence spoke volumes. Celestia didn’t meet her eyes for some time.
“If it will make you feel any better,” Celestia tried again, “once complete, my sister and I will be opening both pools to visitors to help fix Equestria’s debt. It might not be a lot, but it’s a start.”
“Equestria’s debt?” Twilight said, aghast. “How much debt do we have? A lot?”
Celestia took a breath. “A whole lot.”
“How much is that?”
“I’m not sure, exactly. But every time our accountant mentions it, he breaks down in tears. So… more than a bunch, to be sure.” Eventually, she faced Twilight again. “You see, that’s the only reason I’ve asked Luna and everyone else to pitch it. I’ve never forced anypony to sell items or objects they don’t believe in. Don’t believe me, Twilight? Even I’ve put my name behind something in order to help.”
Using her horn, Celestia slid a small brochure towards Twilight, who quickly read its cover title.
With wide eyes, Twilight looked up. “You’re selling trips to the moon now?”
Celestia smiled. “Who else knows more about sending ponies to the moon?”
“That’s kinda morbid…” Twilight muttered as she read the rest of the brochure. “Eight-hundred bits for a three-night stay? A little expensive, don’t you think?”
“That includes travel and accommodations, mind you.” Celestia rose from her desk to stand. “And although first class tickets can be more expensive…” She lifted both of her gold-armored hooves. “Coach does technically get ponies there faster… perhaps a bit bumpier, is all.” Then she smirked as she kicked out with both strong back legs.
Twilight continued to read. “What? No room service at this price?”
“There’s a continental breakfast every morning. Two types of bagels, included. Sliced and unsliced.”
“And if a pony wants jam or butter with their bagel?”
“Located in their room’s mini-bar. Although, the mini-bar’s extra.”
“Says here the mini-bar is under lock and key, too.”
Celestia chuckled weakly. “The key is also extra.”
Rolling her eyes, Twilight asked, “What else is extra up there? Water?”
Celestia said not a word.
“Heat?”
More silence.
Finally, Twilight threw the brochure down. “Since guests will be living in glass domes up on the moon, does that mean air also costs them extra?”
Sidestepping the question, Celestia instead gave Twilight a short clipboard with a list. “Say what you will about the costs and hidden fees, Twilight, but these trips to the moon are already selling like warm biscuits.”
“Hotcakes,” Twilight corrected.
“Tomato, potato.”
Twilight look the list from her and gave it a look. On it were four rather similar names.
Maud Pie
Maud Pie
Maud Pie
Pie a la Maud
Celestia took the list back. “It seems Ms. Pie has quite the interest in rocks—whether those rocks come from the moon or wherever. I’m still deciding on whether to charge her friend Boulder a full fare or not. I’ll have to decide on the day.”
Sliding back in her chair, Twilight held up both hooves. “Okay. Okay. Enough. Final question. And please answer seriously. Why not just tell me about Equestria’s debt? I like helping! I’m the Princess of Friendship for my own sake!”
Celestia returned behind her desk. “Truthfully, I thought you just had too much on your plate. Plus… never could I imagine you wanting to sponsor something, whether book related or not.”
“You kidding? You know I’d do anything for Equestria! That’s where you and all my friends live! Couldn’t I gather some funds spreading the magic of friendship more? I have been outlining my book on friendshipology. I could have it completed in three weeks, tops!”
Celestia held up a hoof. “I’m afraid almost all of the sponsorship deals have been taken, Twilight. And this last one…” She stuck her tongue out in disgust. “It is not for the faint of heart.”
Twilight slammed a hoof atop the desk. “I’ll take it!”
***
TAKE NO. 12
“Hi there! I’m Twilight Sparkle with the Hoof Chop! Ready to chop—
“What? More emotion? I think I’m speaking at a perfectly fine level right now.
“Fine. Fine. You’re the boss. I guess.”
TAKE NO. 13
“Hi there! I’m Twilight Sparkle! And here with me is the Hoof Chop! It—
“Seriously? What more do you want? For me to scream the whole darn thing?”
TAKE NO. 14
“HI THERE! I’M TWILIGHT SPARKLE! AND FOR SOME REASON THE NEW HOOF CHOP HAS MADE ME COMPLETELY LOSE MY MIND! MY JAW’S ABOUT TO BREAK!”
...
“Was that better? I can do it like that again if you want.”
TAKE NO. 21
“Hi, I’m Twilight Sparkle here with the Hoof Chop. It chops anything you can think of. Fruits. Vegetables. Even nuts! What’s that?
“What now? What possibly now? Another note on how to read lines?
“Really? You want me to sound more curious about the product? Fine. Sure. You got it.”
TAKE NO. 22 – LAST TAKE
“Hi there. I’m Twilight Sparkle. Or am I? And how did I get in this kitchen that’s totally not a fake set? And what’s this device here? I sure hope I’m pronouncing this correctly. A Hoof Chop? Sounds like something that’ll change the course of equine-kind forever.
“What does it do, exactly? Chops things, perhaps? Not like a knife can do that. Or a fork. Or any sharp object lying around. Did you know it chops nuts, too? Not like every pony in Equestria has hardened hooves that can chop nuts with ease. But don’t ask me. I’m just reading off cue cards right now!
“What’s that? I’m fired? What’s ‘fired’ mean? I’m still so ‘curious’ about everything!
“AND LOUD, TOO! DON’T FORGET ABOUT EMOTION!”
...
“Maybe I’ll go see if Applejack wants any help selling apples.”
Author's Note
I, for one, would totally purchase a Derpy Hooves snow globe. 
