Twilight Sparkle Accidentally Swaps the Librarian with an Orangutan
Twilight Sparkle Accidentally Swaps the Librarian for an Orangutan
Twilight Sparkle had a headache. This wasn’t the first time she’d misfired a spell, nor was it the first time Pinkie Pie had startled her. What baffled her was how a simple levitation spell resulted in a problem this hairy.
“Ook,” said the problem. Where once the gentle, old Head Librarian had stood, now there was a six-foot orangutan, squating on the desk and peeling a banana.
“Well, that much is obvious,” Twilight rubbed her temple. “But I can’t undo the spell until I learn what I did in the first place.”
“Ook,” the orangutan huffed again, crossing its arms.
“What’s he saying, Twilight?” Pinkie asked, looking up and down the strange, bipedal beast with wide-eyed wonder.
“He says that’s my problem, not his,” Twilight sighed, her eyebrow twitching. “As if I didn’t already have enough problems today.”
“Ook.”
“And that his name is Dennis. I don’t know why he wants you, specifically, to know that. But he does.”
“Wow. Hi, Dennis!” Pinkie extended her hoof, and Dennis shook it with enough vigour to lift her off the ground. “Oh, my, aren’t you a strong one?” her voice wobbled.
By now, a crowd was beginning to form around them, with ponies squeezing past each other for their once-in-a-lifetime chance to see the alien creature. The most enthusiastic pony, of course, was Lyra Heartstrings.
“Aha!” she declared, rearing up on her hind hooves and pointing at the Orangutan. “I knew humans were real, but nopony believed me! You all thought I was crazy, but who’s crazy now, huh?”
“Okay, first of all, please keep your voice down,” Twilight said, her own strained voice sounding irater by the second. “Second, we’ve known about humans for years now. I stepped through the mirror portal first, remember? Sunset Shimmer sends me letters every week.”
“Well… I, err,” Lyra stammered, no doubt internally bemoaning the loss of her one defining character trait beyond the fourth wall. “Yeah, but I knew before anypony else! And this one is hairier, so, there.”
“Whatever,” Twilight grumbled. “Regardless, this is still a library, not a zoo. If anypony really wants to help, go look for books on misfired spells.”
“Ook.”
“Don’t you start with me,” Twilight shot Dennis a resentful glare. “You’re not exactly helping, either.”
“Ook, ook!” Dennis proclaimed, tossing the banana skin over his shoulder and lying back across the desk.
“Wait, what?!” Twilight’s jaw dropped. “Since when were you friends with a wizard, and why didn’t you tell me?”
“Ook,” he shrugged.
“Well of course I didn’t ask!” Twilight threw up her forehooves in protest. “How am I supposed to know that a creature like you—which, remember, doesn’t exist in Equestria—has a library job with human wizards?!”
“Ook,” Dennis concluded with a smug grin.
“What did he say, Twilight?” Pinkie chirped again. “Is he telling you about his amazing super special ultra-magical wizard job?”
“Pinkie, don’t ask,” Twilight shook her head. “It’s not worth repeating in polite conversation.”
“Okie-dokie-lokie,” Pinkie saluted. “I’d best be getting back to Sugarcube corner anyway. I only came here to borrow this book on making super-tasty banana cake.”
“Ook?” the orangutan’s ears pricked up at the last two words.
“No!” Twilight snapped, stomping her hoof. “You’re coming with me to Fluttershy’s sanctuary. If anypony can look after you while I clean up this mess, it’s her.”
“Ook,” Dennis said with a dejected sigh. He was about to follow Twilight out of the Library, but stopped abruptly to wave his arms around in a frantic manner.
“Oh, no, I’ve had enough of—”
Now, nopony would ever argue about Twilight’s adoration for acquiring and retaining knowledge. It was her greatest skill, after all! But learning how mid-air flight feels by spinning maddeningly in circles for several, very long seconds, the propeller being one slimy banana peel, was a moment where she genuinely, as if touched by a higher being, understood the inner meaning of ignorance is bliss.
As she laid on the floor, pain shooting through her back and the peel stuck on her hoof—acting like a broken pike fashioned into a microphone for her chortling audience—she knew that this was going to be a day.
The trek through Ponyville was about as uneventful as Twilight had hoped. That was to say, she had hoped the inevitable mob of onlookers were courteous enough to give her and the Orangutan room to move, without being bombarded with questions.
She had wished for there to be no crowd at all, but alas, the prospect of a human-adjacent beast was far too fascinating to ignore. She considered ordering them to go away, as was within her power as a Princess, but that, too, was an idea quickly discarded.
Despite the weight of accidental interdimensional travel weighing on her mind—not to mention Princess Celestia’s impending ire—Twilight just couldn’t stifle the citizen’s curiosity. Had her spell not sent a pony to the Orangutan’s universe, she would’ve been just as fascinated.
As it was, she would have to schedule her zoology research for another time. Rescuing the true librarian took priority, in addition to the messy diplomacy with yet another human-ruled world. Then again, if Equestrian magic had seeped further than expected, it probably wouldn’t be distinguishable from their own magic.
After passing Applejack’s farm—which included a brief re-assurance that, no, Applejack had not drunk one too many ciders—Twilight finally made it to Fluttershy’s sanctuary, where Spike was already waiting for her.
“Hey, Twilight, welcome ba—” Spike dropped his basket of carrots. His eyes going wide with horror, he pointed his claw at the ape. “Sweet Celestia, what is that?!”
Denis simply ooked and continued to engage in his passionate butt-scratching.
“It’s a long story,” Twilight groaned. “Do you know where Fluttershy went? I’ve got a big problem on my hooves and need her expertise.”
“Ook?” Dennis pointed to himself. If Twilight didn’t know any better, she’d swear he was being sarcastic.
“Twilight? Is that you?” Fluttershy came trotting up the hill to greet her, only to stop dead in her tracks and let out a loud gasp. “Oh. My. Gosh…”
“Yeah, yeah, get it out of your system,” Twilight said under her breath, rolling her eyes.
“Dennis! What a lovely surprise!”
“I know, it’s— wait, what?!” Of all the things she expected today, feeling surprised that Fluttershy knew the Orangutan shouldn’t have been one of them. Yet, somehow, the sight of her friend racing to tackle-hug Dennis left her jaw on the floor. “I… what… how?”
“I was wondering when I’d receive this week’s letter,” Fluttershy nuzzled his cheek. “Dennis and I are pen-pals.”
“You’re what?!” Twilight yelled, louder this time.
“What?” Fluttershy gave Twilight an incredulous look. “You receive letters from Sunset, and Spike can literally teleport letters to Princess Celestia. What’s so bad about writing to an Orangutan?”
She turned her attention back to Dennis. “I was waiting patiently for your reply, and you came to visit, instead? Oh, today really is my lucky day!”
“Ook!” Dennis replied, hugging Fluttershy back.
“So, Twilight. What did you want to ask me about?”
Twilight didn’t reply. From the way her face seemed to contort in on itself, the lights were on, but nopony was home.
“Twilight? Equestria to Twilight?” Spike picked up a stick and poked her with it. Twilight responded by pitching over onto her side, her limbs stiff as a board.
“Oh dear,” Fluttershy said. “Dennis, do you know what this is about?”
“Ook-ook,” Dennis shrugged, though he couldn’t hide his broad, cheeky grin.
“Guess I’ll brew some tea,” Spike sighed, grabbing Twilight by the tail to drag her away. “We’re gonna be here for a while.”
Meanwhile, in an alternate universe, First Filo was having an unbelievably bad day. One minute, she was talking to Twilight Sparkle, and the next, she had been warped to a university filled with oddly dressed bipedal creatures – all of whom wanted to poke and prod at her while yelling something about “Sourcery”.
While this wasn’t her worst first day on the job, it was certainly within the top ten. That said, when she signed up to come out of retirement and act as Ponyville’s Head Librarian, nowhere in the contract was the risk of interdimensional travel stated.
Or being chased through the halls by a one hundred-legged wooden chest, for that matter.
“In Celestia’s name!” she cried, panting from exhaustion. “Will somepony stop gawking and help me?!”
“I knew this would happen,” Rincewind sighed. “Maybe not this specifically, but I knew attending the university reunion was a bad idea.”
In a bright flash of Octarine-coloured magic, the Luggage flew backwards and landed on its lid, its legs flailing wildly.
“Well, one thing’s for certain,” said Captain Carrot, placing a hand on Rincewind’s shoulder. “At least you didn’t cause the disaster this time.”
The End
