Rainbow Dash flew out of the teacher's meeting. In her anger, she was worried that she might say something she'd regret, so left the gathering early. She'd just have to apologize later. At that moment, however, she couldn't be around anyone until she cooled her head.
“Rainbow Dash!”
It was one of the last ponies Dash wanted to hear just then. Fortunately, Rainbow could fly, and the other pony could not, and so the pegasus zoomed through the air toward her home.
About an hour later, she heard the same pony yell, “Knock, knock!” from somewhere below her cloud floor.
Dash groaned, wishing that water particles were more soundproof. Then she bit back a smart aleck remark, and counted to ten.
“Cider for your thoughts, Rainbow?”
“Did you say cider?” Dash sprang out of her bedroom and shot out the front door.
Applejack was standing on the ground, two mugs of cider gripped in her front hoof.
Rainbow flitted down to her level and accepted the offering. “I'm sorry I left the meeting early,” she said, finally feeling contrite in the face of this gesture of goodwill. “I guess I owe Twilight an apology too.”
“Stormed off in a huff is more like it.” AJ sighed. “I know you're disappointed, Dash. I am too.” She walked over to a bench on the side of the road and sat down. Rainbow joined her, sipping on the sweet cider.
“I was so convinced that this time the students would finally pick me to be Teacher o' the Month,” continued Applejack. “I taught the kiddos how to play buckball and gave 'em snacks and juice boxes. I thought for sure that would do the trick.”
Dash leaned against the back of the bench. “Yeah, see, maybe your problem is that you're treating them like they're five.”
“No way!” AJ waved her foreleg. “They all had a blast! I mean, sure, I quit lettin' 'em chew gum in class, but that's only on account of they kept stickin' chewed-up wads on my tree!”
“Well, I'll be the first to admit that I stank as a teacher when we first started, but I've become so much better since Twilight threw out that crummy rule book! I let the students do relay races and I taught them how to do crazy trust exercises!”
Applejack arched an eyebrow as only she could. “I taught you those trust exercises!”
“Oh, yeah,” admitted Rainbow. “But I also bring Tank in once a week! The kids love him!” She took a swig of cider before lightly swirling it in her mug. “I figured that if I let the students do all the things I liked doing in school, they'd love my classes. And they'd love me.”
Applejack stared into her own mug. “Maybe I’m just not cut out for this teachin’ business. ‘Professor Applejack’ still sounds weird.” She frowned and shook her blond head. “I didn’t even like school all that much when I was a foal, to tell you the truth. Our teacher made us memorize all these boring facts and she didn’t explain why we would need to know them in our adult lives.”
“I know what you mean, AJ. The worst part for me was being forced to sit still for hours on end,” said Dash, flicking her tail in irritation at the memory. “That’s why I’m always having my class race and play outside.”
“It sounds like both of us took our bad experiences and tried to do the opposite.” Applejack waved her hoof between herself and Rainbow. “We’re doin’ the things that we would’ve wanted to do in school.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean everpony – uh, everycreature wants to do the things we want to do. I just wish I knew what they did want.”
“So do I.”
Silence fell as the two ponies sipped their cider to the dregs. Applejack frowned and looked away, rubbing her hoof over the rim of her mug.
“Bit for your thoughts?” asked Rainbow.
“You don't got a bit, do you?”
“Oh come on!” Dash waved her foreleg. “It's a figure of speech! You of all ponies should know that!”
“All right, all right!” AJ took a deep breath and lowered her eyebrows in a resigned expression. “I got an idea.”
“So? Is it a bad idea?”
Applejack shook her head. “No, but it ain't gonna be pleasant.”
“Hey kids, I have a special assignment for you!” said Dash, one day later. “Ocellus, will you please pass out these papers?”
“Okay.” The changeling flew over and took the stack of papers from Rainbow's hooves.
“All you have to do is write down what you think I can do to be a better teacher.” Dash forced a grin. “That's a normal thing for students to do near the end of the year, right? And we’ve been at this for nine months, so it’s pretty much the end of the year.”
“Wow, has it been that long!?” exclaimed Silverstream. “It seems like we've only been here for a few weeks! The time has just flown!”
“Speak for yourself,” Gallus said wryly.
“Be honest with your suggestions,” Rainbow spoke over him. “And don't put your names on them. I don't want to know who wrote which comment. But I encourage everycreature to be a team player and participate! If every one of you turns in a suggestion, the entire class will get a special surprise!”
The students whispered amongst themselves.
Ocellus's mouth turned into a squiggly line as she hooved a sheet of paper to Silverstream. “Um, Professor Dash? Won't you recognize our hoofwriting? Or mouth- or clawwriting?”
Rainbow waved a wing. “Just write with your non-dominant hoof or whatever. Or ask a friend to write down your suggestion for you.”
“All right, Professor. I'll do my best.”
After hours the next day, Dash counted the papers she'd collected from the students. She made sure she had feedback from each pupil before scooping up her stack of pages in her forelegs and flapping over to Applejack's classroom.
“Hey, AJ,” she greeted. “Got all your comments?”
Raising her stack upright, Applejack tapped the edge against her desk. “Every last one! C'mon, pull up a seat.”
Rainbow scooted a stool toward the desk and sat down next to her friend. “Are you sure you wanna read these together?”
Applejack shrugged. “I reckon we can give each other moral support.”
Or join in the roasting, thought Dash. “All right, I'm up for it.” She picked up the top page from her pile with her primary feathers and read, “You say 'awesome' too much.” She lowered the paper and furrowed her brow. “I mean, I guess I say 'awesome' a lot. But that's only because I think so many things are awesome!”
“Like you?” deadpanned AJ.
And there was the roasting, so soon. “Not just me,” insisted Rainbow. “The Wonderbolts, Daring Do, Tank, our friends . . .” She ticked off each list item on her outstretched flight feathers. “I guess I could say 'radical' instead of 'awesome' sometimes, to mix it up a bit.”
“You could try that. To be honest, I don't think it makes you a bad teacher if you say 'awesome' too often. I'll go next.” Lifting a note in her hoof, Applejack read, “Your accent is hard to understand.” She narrowed her green eyes. “Really? Do you think my accent is hard to understand, Dash?”
Rainbow tilted her head. “What did you say?”
“Oh, stop!” Applejack playfully punched Dash's shoulder.
“Okay, seriously,” said Rainbow, rubbing the spot where the earth pony's hoof had struck, “I don't think you're that hard to understand. I mean, when we first met, I had a little trouble figuring out what you were saying, but it only took me a day to get used to the way you talk.” She shrugged her wings. “I think this student is the one with the problem, if you ask me.”
“I could perchance pronounce my words in the fashion of the most learned scholar, so that my pupils will hear and comprehend my statements, and that I might sound pleasing to the auditory senses.” Applejack tossed her thick mane and held her foreleg to her chest. “Do you not find my voice pleasing, Professor Dash?”
Rainbow gaped at her. “You could talk like that the whole time?”
“Well, I'm a mite rusty.” AJ slid back into her customary drawl. “You shoulda heard me back when I was stayin' with my Aunt and Uncle Orange. Them upper-crust Manehattanites had trouble understandin' me too, till I started soundin' like them. But I couldn't keep up the act for long. I s'pose if it's an issue, I could tell the kids to ask me to repeat myself if I say somethin' they don't get.”
“Honestly, I wouldn't even worry about it if I were you. If the one who wrote that comment really has trouble understanding you, they can take the initiative to speak up and tell you themselves, or they can ask one of their friends to translate. Now let's move onto the next comment.” Dash picked up a new sheet. “Be more like Fluttershy.” She flung the paper into the air in exasperation, and the paper swirled a short distance before landing on the hardwood floor.
“Oh come on!” she yelled at the creature who wasn't there in person. “You think I haven't thought of that!? It doesn't work! I already tried copying each of my friends so I would stand out in a positive way – including Fluttershy!”
“When was that?” asked AJ with a thoughtful frown.
“You know how I had a rough first day training with the Wonderbolts? After that, I tried imitating each of our friends – including you, by the way – but the other 'Bolts just looked at me like I was crazy.”
“I bet. That comment was really unhelpful. I know we're not s'posed to know who wrote it, but . . .”
“No. No buts.” Dash’s multicolored locks bounced as she shook her head. “I don't think I wanna know, anyway. Just read another one of yours, AJ.”
Another page, another outrage. “You are a fruitist. Apples aren’t the only fruit in the world, and they aren’t even the best.” Applejack's pupils shrank. “I'm sorry, I don't think the words 'apples' and 'aren't the best' are supposed to be used in the same sentence like that.”
“Um.” Rainbow carefully patted AJ's shoulder, trying to figure out how best to proceed. “I'm pretty sure you just helped make their point.”
“But . . .” Applejack’s jaw tightened. “Okay, so I ranted about strawberries one time . . .”
“I'm pretty sure it was more than one time.”
“You didn't let me finish!” Applejack held up her foreleg. “In front o' the younguns, I was gonna say.”
“I'm still not sure that was just one time,” Rainbow said quietly.
“I . . .” AJ's ears drooped. “I reckon I could stop bad-mouthin' other fruits.”
“But you're still gonna think other fruits are bad?”
“Not all of 'em. Pears, grapes, and citrus fruits are okay.”
Dash gave her friend what she hoped was an encouraging smile. “That’s a start! Here’s an idea: how about you ask your class to bring in different fruits to share? That way some of them would get to try new foods. Somecreature might even learn something,” she added meaningfully.
“We'll see,” grumbled Applejack. “Next!”
The newest suggestion hit hard. “You should stop talking about yourself so much.” Rainbow's heart sank. “Oh.”
Even AJ seemed at a loss for words, and Rainbow could tell that it wasn't because she was trying to suppress her hatred of strawberries. Her emerald eyes softened with sympathy.
“It's just . . .” Rainbow swallowed. “I learn from experience, you know? How am I supposed to teach the kids about friendship if I don't talk about my own experience with my friends?”
“I was just teasin’ before, you know.” Applejack rested her hoof on Dash's back. “Really, the gals and I are used to you talkin' about yourself. It ain't no thing. Maybe some of these kids are just jealous.”
Rainbow sighed. “It's tempting to throw out this whole thing and make excuses and say they're just jealous and they don't know what they're talking about. But then where are we?”
AJ hung her head. “We're back to where we started, aren't we? Stuck in a rut and not gettin' that Employee of the Month trophy.”
“Teacher,” corrected Rainbow.
“Right, what did I say?”
“Never mind, I think you get the point. We have to take this feedback seriously and do whatever we can to win these kids over.” Dash straightened her back, her mouth set in a grim line.
“When you’re right, you’re right,” said AJ, rippling her shoulders. “The truth can hurt, but it might just give us the edge to win if make the effort to change.”
Dash took a deep breath and held up the next sheet of paper in her wingtips. “This is a long one.”
Applejack shifted a page aside and picked up the one underneath. “This one's long, too.”
“I'm almost afraid to read mine. You read yours first. Besides, it's your turn.”
AJ took a deep breath and cleared her throat.
“Most of the schools I've been to had the students do surveys on the last day of class instead of two weeks before the end of the year. If this is about the Teacher of the Month trophy, I don't know if I can give you any helpful suggestions. You see, being picked for Teacher of the Month is just a popularity contest. And I'm never going to win any popularity contests, myself. I've made peace with that a long time ago. Don't get me wrong, I've made a lot of friends at this school, but I don't really stand out as cool, fun, or smart. I just try to be there for my friends and let them know that I'm always there to help. Sometimes I wish I were a little more interesting, but then I remember that my friends like me the way I am.
“But enough about me. I guess my only suggestion is not to worry about getting picked for Teacher of the Month. Unless you get bonus pay for it, that is.”
“We don't,” murmured Rainbow.
Applejack kept reading. “But still, I think all you have to do is be the best teacher you can be. And if you ever feel unappreciated, I want you to know that a lot of creatures enjoy your classes. I know I do! I like how informal you are, and who doesn't love having a tree in the middle of their classroom? You're not like any other professor I've ever met, and that's a good thing!”
Reaching the end of the note, Applejack carefully hugged it to her chest. “Why, that was the sweetest thing anyone besides my family has ever written to me!” She glanced at Dash. “What does yours say, sugar cube?”
Rainbow raised her paper in front of her face and read out loud.
“For what it's worth, I voted for you the last two times. That's worth a lot, buddy,” Dash editorialized before returning to a straight reading. “I love all my teachers! It's hard to pick just one. I wish every professor could be teacher of the month. I just want everycreature to be happy. Maybe Fluttershy appeals to the majority of students, but it's all subjective, you know? Who's to say which professor is the best teacher? Who's to say which teaching style is best? I know a creature who loved one of the substitute teachers and keeps asking Headmare Twilight to get her to come back!
“Besides, I have a hunch that years from now we won't remember which professor was chosen for Teacher of the Month. We'll remember the teachers that took the time to get to know us. We'll remember the teachers that made lessons fun and creative, the way you do! And I love your enthusiasm and the way you get everycreature to participate, even the shy ones. I know how much you want to be the best, but you're already a fabulous teacher, and you don't need some award to tell you that!
“Aw!” said Rainbow after she finished, her eyes crinkling. “It's like my mom wrote it!”
AJ rubbed her chin. “Do you s’pose the same creature wrote both our notes, or did two creatures coordinate?”
“I don’t know. I’m sure Yona didn’t write either of them, unless she had a lot of help.”
“Nope. But I know one creature who would have the motivation: Ocellus. Think about it – changelings feed off o' love and other positive vibes.” Applejack waved her foreleg. “She doesn't want us goin' round bein' all disgruntled and spoilin' her food supply.”
“Ocellus definitely has a good motive,” said Dash. “But there's no way to know for sure it was her. Besides, didn't your letter say they went to other schools? How many schools would the changeling hive have?”
“I don’t think she wrote both of them, but she might’ve inspired one of her friends to write mine,” said Applejack, lightly tapping her page.
“We're not really supposed to know who wrote them. . .” Rainbow tilted her head and stared up at the high ceiling with its exposed wooden beams. “Although, if one of Ocellus’s friends wrote it, that does narrow it down.”
“Yeah.” AJ drew herself up. “Well, whoever this kid is, we taught 'em well.”
“Darn right!” Rainbow grinned. “Any kid who writes like this obviously understands friendship. If we taught them that, we're doing a great job!”
“Sure as sugar!” Applejack glanced down at the remaining unread pages. “Let's not read any more comments, Dash. At least not tonight.”
“Yeah,” agreed Rainbow. “Let's quit while we're ahead.”
Author's Note
I watched “Non-Compete Clause” a long time after I read reactions from other fans. For most of the episode, I thought that it was annoying, but it didn't seem as horrendous as everyone made it sound. And then I got to the end. It was almost insulting to the audience, to ignore seven seasons of character development for the sake of an episode that wasn't entertaining and had an unfunny punchline. And the most frustrating part to me was that it could have been merely below average instead of infamously awful if the ending had been tweaked. They could have had the teachers and students accidentally teach each other: the students could learn how not to work as a team, and the teachers could learn that their rivalry isn't worth endangering their lives and the lives of their students. Granted, AJ and RD would have learned a lesson that they should have learned back in Season 1, but at least the episode would have ended on a high note. But it didn't.
However, there is a new short on this subject that shows that RD and AJ did learn from their mistakes in this episode. I stumbled across it while searching for screenshots to use as cover art for this story, and if I had watched it immediately after the episode, I might not have written this fanfic at all. But I didn't, so here we are.
I searched for reaction fics for “Non-Compete Clause,” and . . . let's just say the ones I found didn’t suit my tastes and leave it at that. So I decided to write my own extremely late reaction fic that detailed how I think it should have started and ended. I wrote the ending first – something I’ve never tried before – and then I went back and wrote what built up to it. I could have easily kept going with the suggestions, but the comments about Rainbow's apparent self-absorption wound up segueing so well into the ending that I didn't want to mess up a good thing while I had it. Like Dash says, I quit while I was ahead.
I promise I'm still working on the sequel to “Earth Ponies Are Overpowered.” The only reason I allowed myself to get distracted by this story is that I was confident that I could churn it out quickly. Luckily, I was right – it only took two days! So I'm ready to dive back into the overpowered earth pony lore.
And in case you're curious about who wrote the last two notes, the answer is Sandbar and Ocellus.
