Flash Fog

Chapters

August 31 – 6:01 AM
August 31 – 6:32 AM
August 31 – 7:45 AM
August 31 – 8:18 AM
August 31 – 9:06 AM
August 31 – 11:00 AM
August 31 – 11:27 AM
August 31 – 11:54 AM
August 31 – 12:33 PM
August 31 – 2:58 PM
August 31 – 3:19 PM
August 31 – 5:07 PM
August 31 – 5:41 PM
August 31 – 7:59 PM
August 31 – 9:02 PM
August 31 – 11:28 PM
September 1 – 6:05 AM
September 1 – 7:04 AM
September 1 – 8:12 AM
September 1 – 9:23 AM
September 1 – 11:13 AM
September 1 – 12:02 PM
September 1 – 12:13 PM
September 1 – 12:39 PM
September 1 – 1:24 PM
September 1 – 1:33 PM
September 1 – 2:02 PM
September 1 – 3:10 PM
September 1 – 4:30 PM
September 1 – 6:36 PM
September 1 – 6:57 PM
September 1 – 7:31 PM
September 2 – ?:?? AM
September 2 – 7:14 AM
September 2 – 8:16 AM
September 2 – 9:25 AM
September 2 – 10:11 AM
September 2 – 10:50 AM
September 2 – 11:20 AM
September 2 – 11:55 AM
September 2 – 12:06 PM
September 2 – 12:30 PM
September 2 – 12:46 PM
September 2 – 12:53 PM
September 2 – 1:22 PM
September 2 – 2:01 PM
Epilogue
August 30 – 10:41 PM
August 31 – 3:49 PM
September 1 – 12:36 PM
September 1 – 8:43 PM
September 2 – 12:19 PM

August 31 – 6:01 AM

Pencil Pusher staggered up to his cubicle, relieved that the worst night of his life was finally over. As a colt, he’d briefly entertained the idea of joining the Pony Express as a messenger, but now, as he finally got a chance to rest his sore, aching wings, he was glad that his mother had browbeaten him into becoming a civil servant. Heading down to the Ponyville area had been relatively easy, since the north wind had given him quite a bit of assistance, but the same wind had made the return trip a nightmare. It wasn’t that the wind was all that strong; he was just really out of shape.

Still, the wind might have been manageable were it not for the fog. Before tonight, Pencil Pusher had never realized just how often he used landmarks on the ground to navigate his way through the skies. Yet instead of illuminating hills, valleys, streams, and rock formations, the moonlight had only offered him a vast, silver expanse that covered the land beneath him as he’d approached Cloudsdale. He couldn’t remember if the fog bank had spread that far while he was flying south, as he’d been too busy trying to get this job done as soon as possible to pay attention. He thought he could get around this problem by keeping the familiar silhouette of Cloudsdale against the night sky in view, but this offered no clues about the location of well-established updrafts and air currents. As a result, Pencil Pusher had exhausted way too much time and energy fighting against the wind, all because of a freak cloud on the ground. But that was no longer his concern, because right now all he had to do was fill out a status report, and then he’d finally be able to head back home to his modest apartment and get several solid hours of sleep.

Well, that’s what he thought, anyway.

“Penny Pincher!”

It took all of Pencil Pusher’s self-control to keep him from groaning out loud. There was only one pony in the office who got his name wrong, and that was his supervisor. “Good morning, Greg,” he said, not bothering to turn around.

Greg was a middle-aged, tan pegasus with a slight paunch and a thinning brown mane. If it weren’t for the fact that he was named after a griffon who’d saved his father’s life, there would be very little that was remarkable about him. Unfortunately, Greg seemed determined to fix this problem by becoming the most notably overbearing boss in the Department of Weather, according to his subordinates, at least.

“Glad you made it in early. It’s been busy here. There was an accident at Caligo Manufacturing last night. Some sort of new formula. Lots of fog. Not normal. Very messy.”

Pencil Pusher had no idea why Greg thought that speaking in disjointed sentence fragments made him sound authoritative, but he’d long ago figured out that this was the type of opinion best left unexpressed in his supervisor’s presence. “Yeah, I know about it.”

“Good to hear. Means I don’t have to waste time explaining things. Need you to fly over there. Apparently, they want to keep their formula secret. The lawyers say they’re probably allowed to. Doesn’t mean they can’t tell us anything, though. Long story short: higher-ups want more information. Go get it.”

“But why me? I usually just handle paperwork.”

“Understaffed today. Pony pox. Unfortunate timing, right?” Greg replied, as if that was a sufficient explanation.

“Well, I—”

“Great! I knew I could count on you.”

“But... I just got back....” Pencil Pusher said forlornly to nopony, as Greg had already rushed out of the room to head to a meeting of some sort. Well, that, or to make sure that he couldn’t hear his subordinate’s protests. Either way, the effect was the same: the grey stallion had been railroaded into doing more work.

He ran a hoof through his slate-grey mane, idly noting how shaggy it had become recently. I need to stop by the barbershop the first chance I get, he thought to himself, mostly so that he could take his mind off of that stupid fog, even if it was only for a few seconds.Pencil Pusher sighed as he gathered up his saddlebags again and flew out the door. “This is going to be a long day.”

August 31 – 6:10 AM

“The Department of Weather wants me to... um... control... no, that’s not how it went. Or is it?” Fluttershy glanced down at the crinkled piece of paper in her hooves, upon which she had hastily scrawled some remarks to make when she met up with Ponyville’s weather team to explain the situation. That was where she was headed at the moment, but she was finding it difficult to memorize a speech and fly at the same time, particularly since the former also required her to read in the dimness of the pre-dawn twilight.

The news regarding the strange fog had been a most unexpected crisis, but fortunately, Fluttershy had a time-tested method for dealing with such emergencies: find a convenient hiding place, cower, and hope that the problem miraculously resolves itself. Granted, every time this strategy had been tested in the past, it had proven to be an abysmal failure, but that hadn’t stopped Fluttershy from giving it yet another go, much to the annoyance of Rainbow Dash. The sleep-deprived weatherpony had not been pleased to find her friend quivering under a pile of blankets when she’d arrived at the cottage to discuss what was going on—apparently, Pencil Pusher had been extremely vague about the situation, and had directed Rainbow Dash to the resident fog specialist for further information.

Fluttershy had managed to get a temporary reprieve at the time, telling Rainbow Dash that she hadn’t yet read the initial report in its entirety (which conveniently gave her a chance to start reading it). That, however, had only postponed her reckoning for a little more than two hours, as she was now expected to brief the entire weather team at sunrise—and if the pink skies to the east were any indication, she’d have to hurry, or risk being late. Folding her notes once again, Fluttershy flapped her wings as fast as she could, which, despite the strength training she’d taken up since the previous year’s Tornado Day, still wasn’t particularly fast. That said, she at least wanted to reach the meeting place Rainbow Dash had told her about before the sun’s heat made the already-muggy morning unbearable. Oh, dear, Fluttershy thought to herself, the humidity’s actually pretty bad today. That could be a problem. She knew that the fog bank wasn’t behaving normally, but she was pretty sure that naturally-occurring humidity wouldn’t improve the situation. I need to keep that in mind.

They’d be expecting her to have answers. And why wouldn’t they? After all, she was supposed to be a fog specialist. She’d claimed to be one for several years; the tax breaks that came with the job were what had allowed her to keep her animal shelter going when donations ran thin. True, she really did have more real-world experience with it than most pegasi, as she’d encountered hazy mists on several of her trips to Froggy Bottom Bog, but this was something else entirely. Other ponies would be paying close attention to her, expecting—no, demanding results, and if she failed...

Luckily, this worrisome train of thought was cut off by a bizarre, rhythmic squeaking noise, punctuated by occasional metallic clicks and pops. Fluttershy glanced over her shoulder and saw a strange contraption that looked like it was made of oversized candy canes mounted onto a horizontal rotor, like the device she had given to Rainbow Dash’s pet tortoise, Tank, so he could join his owner while she zipped through the air. But unlike most anomalies in the sky, this device had a rather obvious explanation: seated on the device was Ponyville’s resident party guru, Pinkie Pie, who was steadily working a series of pedals which presumably powered the flying machine.

The earth pony grinned broadly as she spotted her friend. “Hiya, Fluttershy!”

“Oh, good morning, Pinkie Pie. Um, what are you doing up so early?”

“Flying in my flying machine, and trying to think of lyrics for a song about how much fun it is to fly in my flying machine. I’m having trouble coming up with words that rhyme with ‘gyrocopter,’ though. Do you know any?”

“Not really. Um, I’m sorry if this sounds rude, but I don’t have much time to talk to you. I need to speak with the weather team about something that’s come up.”

“Wow, that sounds super-serious. In that case, we’d better walk-and-talk. Er, except we’re in the sky, so I guess it’s more like aviate-and-communicate, isn’t it?”

“Pinkie Pie...” Fluttershy replied, barely managing to stop herself from groaning in frustration.

The earth pony took one of her front hooves off its pedal and wagged it disapprovingly. “Ah-ah-ah. You’re in trouble, and that means it’s time to confide in Auntie Pinkie Pie.”

Fluttershy had never liked it when Pinkie Pie referred to herself that way, but she decided to ignore the infraction for the time being. Figuring that Pinkie Pie wouldn’t take no for an answer, she decided to use this as a chance to practice what she’d say to the weather team in front of an actual pony, rather than the ones in her imagination who were scrutinizing every word she said, probing each individual syllable for signs of weakness.

Taking a deep breath, she began: “Well, there was an accident in Cloudsdale last night, and there’s some very unusual fog heading towards Ponyville right now. Because the clouds in the fog were meant to be used as, um, construction material, they’re very thick, which means they might be dangerous. Because I’m a certified fog specialist”—Fluttershy tried to keep her voice from wavering, but was only partly successful—“the Department of Weather has asked me to oversee all matters relating to its containment, including public safety and eventual dispersal.” The pegasus couldn’t resist a smile; it wasn’t precisely what she’d written down, but it was close enough. That had certainly gone better than all of the previous times she’d practiced the statement in the last two hours. Granted, she’d culled most of it from the official documentation she’d been given, so it hadn’t been too difficult to begin with. Next would come questions, and those would be challenging.

Or rather, they would have come, except that Pinkie Pie, being an earth pony without any pronounced interest in meteorology, had no reason not to take everything Fluttershy had said at face value. “Gosh, that doesn’t sound good at all. Is there anything I can do?”

“Um, well, I don’t know. I think the Department of Weather wants me to use professional weatherponies to deal with this.”

“Aw, but I wanna help!”

“Er, I’m not sure what you can do, though.”

“Hmmm... Oh! I know! How about I take my flying machine to this fog thingy and have a look at it while you and the weather team are coming up with a plan? I mean, somepony’s gonna have to head out there eventually, right?”

Fluttershy was more than a bit hesitant in her response. “I’m not certain that’s a good idea.”

“Pretty please?” Pinkie Pie asked, giving Fluttershy the best sad puppy face she could muster. “You can trust me.”

“It... it isn’t that I don’t trust you. But, well, the fog is awfully far away, on the other side of the Unicorn Range,” Fluttershy replied, gesturing northward with one of her hooves. “You might tire yourself out.”

Pinkie Pie giggled. “Oh, you don’t need to worry about that! I’m an earth pony, remember? I’ve got more stamina than I know what to do with. I’ll be fine. Besides, if this really is dangerous for pegasi, wouldn’t it be safer to send somepony who won’t be affected by clouds?”

Fluttershy mulled over this for a few seconds. On the one hoof, sending an earth pony to survey a strange weather pattern was highly irregular, particularly when that earth pony had no formal training in the subject. But on the other hoof, it would be proof that she had already made a decision. That, in turn, implied that she had some idea of what she was doing, and right now, Fluttershy really needed everypony to think that she knew what she was doing. “Um, alright, Pinkie Pie, if you think you can handle it—”

“You bet your pinfeathers I do!” Pinkie chirped.

“Well, then I guess you can go have a look. You, um, don’t have to be too exact. Right now, I need a rough estimate of how thick the fog is, and maybe how fast it’s moving.”

“Okie dokie lokie!” The pink pony banked her gyrocopter northward, and set out towards the Unicorn Range.

“Um, be careful!” Fluttershy called out, almost as an afterthought.

“Got it!” Pinkie called back.

The pegasus bit her lip nervously. I really hope that wasn’t a mistake....

August 31 – 6:32 AM

The actual meeting, which had taken place on a rather large, flat cloud near Rainbow Dash’s house, went off without too many hiccups. Any annoyance that Rainbow Dash had displayed earlier that morning had been completely absent when she’d introduced Fluttershy; her tone of voice exuded confidence expressing her apparent certainty that the local wildlife caretaker was the most qualified pegasus pony available.

Fluttershy’s own talk went pretty well, too. Even though she stumbled over the occasional word, her introduction to the situation had sounded almost as authoritative as it had when she’d practiced with Pinkie Pie, and she’d had little difficulty answering most of the technical questions that followed. It wasn’t until the meeting had neared its end that somepony brought up the subject that filled her with the most trepidation.

“Okay, I get that it’s bad,” a blue-grey pegasus mare named Cloud Kicker said as Fluttershy finished explaining what the north wind would normally have done to the fog, “but what what are we supposed to do?”

“Well, I guess I’ll have to have you cancel whatever weather plans you had for the next few days. All the humidity around Ponyville is going to be a problem. Er, I mean, it will probably be a problem. So, I guess what I’m saying is that you need to get started drying the air out, because if anything, all this mugginess is going to make it worse.”

“Great,” Cloud Kicker replied with a roll of her eyes. “Now we’re going to need to create a massive thunderhead to make up for the rain we’ll be missing.”

“Are you saying that’ll be a problem?” Rainbow Dash snapped.

“Er, no, boss,” the mare replied sheepishly.

“Good, because I’d hate for the ponies in Cloudsdale to hear that we were complaining instead of following their specialist’s advice.”

“Um, thank you, Rainbow Dash,” Fluttershy said. “Are there any other questions?”

“That’s the plan, then? Dry the fog out?” asked a pegasus in the back whom Fluttershy didn’t recognize.

“Uh, well, I still need to get some more information about the fog before I can, um, come up with a more detailed plan.”

“No problem,” Rainbow Dash said. “I’ll just fly out there and have a look at it, and then we can get down to business.”

“Er, thank you, but that’s sort of been taken care of.”

“Oh? You’ve already sent somepony else out there?”

“Uh huh,” Fluttershy asked with a nod. Please don’t ask me who it is.

“So, who is it? Is it Thunderlane?”

“Um, no...”

“Flitter? Cloudchaser?”

“We’re right here, boss,” the latter of the two said.

“Oh,” Rainbow Dash said. “Sorry. Didn’t see you there. But anyway, which pegasus did you send? I’ll need to fill out the paperwork for hazard pay.”

“I, uh, didn’t send a pegasus.”

“Huh? What, did you meet a griffon?”

“Um, no. It was an earth pony.”

“What? But there’s no way an earth pony can travel over the mountains and back in time to provide useful information.”

“But... what if she has a flying machine?”

“Oh, well, that’s different, I guess.” Rainbow Dash finished her sentence, and sat back down. Two seconds later, she’d sprung to her hooves again, her confident grin having abruptly disintegrated into a disapproving scowl. “Flying machine?! Fluttershy, are you telling me that you sent Pinkie Pie to investigate the fog?”

The other weatherponies gasped audibly at this accusation, causing Fluttershy to wince. “Well, she did volunteer....”

“Why does that matter? Didn’t you think I’d be willing to go there if you asked?”

“Um, well, actually, I was kind of hoping you could help warn all the other pegasi in the area. If you don’t mind, that is.”

“What?!”

“Just up to the Unicorn Range. I, uh, think the Department of Weather has somepony else alerting the pegasi who live farther north.” Fluttershy absently rifled through the report, looking for confirmation, but Rainbow Dash didn’t bother to wait for it.

“So instead of having me do the sort of thing I actually get paid to do, you want me to make a bunch of public service announcements?!”

“Well, um, you see, it’s really important that everypony knows about this as soon as possible, so they can be prepared if the worst happens. And since you’re the fastest pegasus in Equestria, I... I thought you’d be the best pony to handle that. Besides, all the pegasi respect you, so they’ll take you seriously.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Um, Rainbow Dash... you... you aren’t mad, are you?”

“What? Me? No! After all, I’m only a fully trained weatherpony, but we’ve got Pinkie Pie to check out the fog, and she has loads of experience. Plus, everypony knows about her reputation for professionalism. I’m sure there’s no way she’ll get distracted by something shiny on the ground.”

Fluttershy cringed a little at the angry sarcasm, but Rainbow Dash did have a point. In fact, she was kind of hoping that Pinkie Pie would take a while to get back, as it gave her a way to avoid being exposed for a few hours more. “But, um, the report does say the fog might be dangerous for pegasi.”

“Then why didn’t you send Twilight? At least she has a good understanding of how clouds actually work!”

“I... um... I mean....”

“Whatever,” Rainbow Dash said. “What do I know? After all, you’re the boss, Flutterspecialist. Is there anything specific I should be telling these pegasi, or should I just get everypony worked up in a panic?”

“Well, actually, the Department of Weather did give me something to help with that.” Fluttershy reached into her saddlebag, pulled out a short pamphlet, and gave it to her friend. “There wasn’t time to get a bunch printed for you to distribute, but if you mention the advice on there, it should help.”

“Fine,” Rainbow Dash said, still obviously in a huff. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” The blue pegasus took off, leaving a still-worried Fluttershy to handle the rest of the weather team.

August 31 – 7:38 AM

Pinkie Pie’s first reaction upon seeing the fog bank was that it was a lot bigger than she’d originally thought it would be. On the other hoof, though, it wouldn’t have made much sense to make a huge fuss over it if it wasn’t unusually big. Besides, it had taken almost ninety minutes of solid pedaling for the earth pony to even get here, so it probably would have been disappointing if the fog had just turned out to be an unusually low-hanging clump of water vapor.

This, however, was really impressive. Pinkie Pie had never expected the fog to be piled up so high; she was pretty sure that the top was higher in the air than Rainbow Dash’s house. As staggering as the sight before her was, though, Pinkie could easily see why somepony would be worried about what it could do. This cloud (she was pretty sure that it counted as a cloud, at least) was neither a friendly, cottony puffball floating in a sea of blue nor a black, scary blanket that covered the sky signaling an immanent downpour. No, this looked like a massive pile of unflavored taffy, stretched out in every direction, without any recognizable shape.

Not wasting any time, she found a pair of large boulders south of the fog and, after briefly landing so she could pace out the distance, the earth pony took to the sky again so she could view the formation from above. Luckily for her, this part of Equestria didn’t have many densely packed groves of trees, so it was fairly easy to pick out her arbitrarily chosen landmarks, which were about twenty trots apart, from high over the ground. When the fog covered the first one, she began counting out loud, “One Fillydelphia, two Fillydelphia, three Fillydelphia...”

Forty-four Fillydelphias later, the second boulder was completely covered. That didn’t seem very fast, since most ponies Pinkie knew could walk faster than that, but it seemed relatively speedy for an enormous cloud that wasn’t being pushed around by pegasus ponies. Still, it was a rough estimation of the fog’s speed, which was exactly what Fluttershy had requested. Now, she just needed to discern its density.

By this time, however, Pinkie Pie had been pedaling for nearly an hour and a half, and her legs were starting to feel a little strained. Rather than risk crashing from exhaustion, she chose instead to land her flying machine by a large, isolated spruce tree on the bank of a river, just to the west of the fog. She still had one more task to do, but luckily for her, it was one that she could do with little difficulty on the ground. The earth pony landed, pushed her machine up against the tree’s trunk, and proceeded to march confidently into the grey mass.

It didn’t take long for the fog to completely surround her. Pinkie Pie had never seen a landscape get swallowed up so thoroughly. Granted, there wasn’t very much that was interesting in this area to swallow in the first place, but it was still quite impressive. Beneath her, there was nothing but rocks and gravel; behind her, there was only her tail (which was also somewhat obscured by the fog); and in every other direction, there was nothing but shades of grey. She couldn’t quite figure out why, but Pinkie Pie was starting to get seriously creeped out. “Okay, Pinkie,” she said to herself, “you already know what to do in situations like this: laugh!” She let out a sharp peal of giggling intended to expose the absurdity of being afraid at whatever it was that had her feeling so agitated.

This time, however, her laughter petered out quickly, as there weren’t any ghosties to giggle at. There was only an impersonal expanse of grey surrounding her in every direction, trailing away forever. But if it went on forever, where was this strangely claustrophobic feeling coming from? A chill ran up her spine, which would have been understandable given how creeped out she felt, but this chill actually felt cold. Not an “outside in the middle of winter” cold, but more like a “three unicorns tried to cool down a room at the same time” cold... except there wasn’t a room. There was just grey.

“I don’t like it in here,” Pinkie Pie said aloud, if only to hear something other than the sound of her hooves hitting the ground as she continued to advance into the gloom. For what might have been the first time in her life, she found her normally-abundant supply of curiosity depleted. After all, she’d gotten what she came for: she’d learned how thick the fog was (really thick) and how fast it was moving (kinda fast). If there was anything else that was worth knowing about the fog, she didn’t want to be the pony to find out.

Pinkie brushed her wet mane away from her eyes, only now noticing how extraordinarily damp it was in the cinereous void. It just felt so wrong: she didn’t feel scared, yet she could feel her heart pounding in her chest, and her breathing was becoming more rapid. The earth pony attempted to will herself into a normal state of mind, but was interrupted when her entire body began shaking. “Oh, no! Is that a d-d-d-doozy-y?” Her unintentional stutter, however, answered that question for her. Her Pinkie Sense hadn’t activated; she was shivering, and Pinkie Pie knew perfectly well that shivering during the summer was not something that was supposed to happen.

“Th-this is b-bad.” It was time to return to Ponyville. She turned around and headed back where she came from, confident that she’d be up in the air again soon. After all, she’d been traveling in a straight line, so another straight line in the opposite direction would return her to the large tree, right?

Five minutes later, Pinkie Pie was starting to question whether she’d actually been traveling as linearly as she’d assumed, because the fog didn’t seem to be getting any thinner, and there was no sign of either the spruce or the river. Her attempts to follow her hoofprints back to the tree were foiled, as she couldn’t distinguish the marks she’d left from the uneven surface of the gravel beneath her. She tried using the sun to figure out her direction, but the light was so thoroughly diffused by the fog that east appeared to be every direction she looked. By now, her teeth were chattering like an overactive typewriter, and her hooves were starting to feel numb. Pinkie’s eyes widened in panic as she realized how much trouble she was in—she was wet, she was cold, and she was tired, but worst of all, she was lost.

August 31 – 7:45 AM

“Two hours?”

“That’s correct, Mr. Pusher.”

“Two hours?!”

“Well, more like two hours and fifteen minutes. There’s a good chance the meeting might run a bit long, given the circumstances.”

Pencil Pusher’s left eye began to twitch sporadically. He stared at the floor for a few seconds, breathing as deeply as he could while he slowly counted to ten. There was no reason to get angry at the receptionist; it wasn’t her fault that the executives at Caligo Manufacturing wouldn’t talk to him. In fact, it might not even have been their fault. After all, their factory did sustain major structural damage, and they’d lost some rather expensive pieces of equipment. One could hardly blame them for wanting to get their house in order before dealing with the problems of others.

The bureaucrat looked back up. “I, uh, I did mention that I’m with the Department of Weather, right?”

“I believe so.”

Well, so much for name-checking, Pencil Pusher thought. He did his best to push this setback out of his mind. Now was not the time to dwell on the fact that he was tired from working for nearly twenty-four hours straight or that nearly eight of those hours were spent flying (making him feel even more exhausted). He finally allowed the tension in his forelegs to slacken—he hadn’t even noticed it building up. This wasn’t a setback. It was more like a break, really. A two-hour break. The bureaucrat smiled. He liked the sound of that. “That’s okay, I guess,” he finally answered. His break began now, so he could relax. “Incidentally, who are they meeting with?” It was small talk, sure, but Pencil Pusher was relaxing, and the receptionist was pretty cute. It was also a mistake.

“Oh, just some representatives from our public relations firm.”

“Are you kidding me?! They’re making a pony from the DOW wait for two hours so they can talk to their PR guys?!”

“If there’s a problem—”

“No, forget about it,” Pencil Pusher interrupted. “Listen, I’m really, really tired right now, so I’m going to go over to that comfy-looking chair, sit down, and try to catch some Z’s. I want you to wake me when whoever’s in charge is ready to meet me, and if I find out that he or she can’t talk to me, or that I’ve slept through my only chance to talk to this pony all day, I will more than likely do something unpleasant. Understand?”

“Um... I think so....”

“Good. I’ll see you in two hours, then.”

August 31 – 7:46 AM

Even though Rainbow Dash was still feeling irritated by Fluttershy’s rather obvious lack of judgment with regards to Pinkie Pie, it wasn’t worth the headaches that would inevitably come with disobeying an order from somepony who’d been given a buttload of authority from the Department of Weather. Okay, maybe “order” was too strong a word; Fluttershy’s tone had really made it sound more like a strong suggestion, but that level of nuance was usually lost on the bureaucrats in Cloudsdale. Thus, she was obediently (though grudgingly) wasting her mind-numbingly awesome skills on the insanely boring task of telling every pegasus she could find that something that might or might not be bad could be happening in the near future. At the moment, she was standing in the local Pony Express office, doing her best to explain the situation to a somewhat confused delivery mare, Derpy Hooves.

“But... it’s just fog, isn’t it?” Derpy asked. “I mean, it’s annoying, sure, but it’s not that big a deal.”

Rainbow Dash sighed. “I know it sounds like that’s the case, but I’m pretty sure this stuff isn’t just fog, or the DOW would have let me do my job instead of bringing in a ‘specialist.’”

Something about the way Rainbow Dash had pronounced that sentence’s final word sounded rather odd, at least to Derpy. It vaguely sounded like the voice that the other foals in flight camp used when they were making fun of her lazy eye, but she was pretty sure that Rainbow Dash would never do something like that—not on purpose, anyway. “Well, what kind of trouble are we talking about?”

“I’m not sure,” the weatherpony replied in a grumble. “We’re still waiting to find out just how bad it is.”

“Uh, did I say something bad?”

“Huh? No! No, uh, I’m just a little, er, stressed, I guess. You didn’t do anything wrong, Derpy.”

“That’s good to know. So is there anything I should do to get ready?”

“Well, I guess there could be a problem if you have a cloud house, since this could be thick enough to push one around. The, uh, Department of Weather recommends raising the elevation of cloud structures to get around this,” Rainbow Dash said as she scanned the pamphlet Fluttershy had given her.

“But I live on the ground,” Derpy said.

“Huh? Oh, right, your daughter’s a unicorn. Well, then, as long as you stay inside a solid building like your home, you should be fine. And really, we’re talking about a worst-case scenario here. There’s no reason to, you know, panic.” Actually, the pamphlet had warned that panicking would be unhelpful, but that wasn’t really all that different from what Rainbow Dash had said, right?

“Oh, well, okay, I guess. Should I get back to you later to see if anything’s changed?”

“Me? Sweet Celestia, no. I’m not qualified to make any decisions about this. If you want information, talk to Fluttershy. She’s the local fog expert, after all.” Perhaps the sarcasm was a little over-the-top, but at the moment, Rainbow Dash simply didn’t care. Rather than wait for a response, she took to the air, heading to the next address on her list, leaving behind a rather befuddled-looking mailmare.

August 31 – 7:49 AM

“Thanks for opening up the library early for me, Twilight.”

“Don’t mention it, Fluttershy. I’m always ready to help out one of my friends. Now, what was it you were researching again?”

“Um, industrial clouds. They’re clouds that are made specifically as building materials.”

Twilight nodded as she trotted towards the shelves. As the librarian scanned the spines, looking for appropriate resources, Fluttershy allowed herself to smile for the first time since Rainbow Dash had flown off. It had been simple enough to get the weather team to start drying Ponyville out; it wasn’t a particularly unusual task, and they already had well-established procedures for handling it. The real problem was that none of them had any knowledge of construction materials, beyond the fact that industrial clouds were obviously different from the normal kind. Luckily, somepony (whose name was escaping Fluttershy at the moment) suggested heading to the Golden Oaks Library to learn more about them.

This was a truly inspired notion, not because one could reasonably expect the library to have a lot of books about the subject (Ponyville had an agriculture-based economy, after all, and most of its residents were earth ponies) but because it meant she could recruit Twilight Sparkle and her prodigious researching abilities. With any luck, the unicorn would figure out a quick, easy solution to the problem, everything would go back to normal, and nopony would be the wiser.

It was truly a superb plan, with the exception of one minor detail: Twilight’s innate curiosity.

“I never would have guessed that you were a fog specialist, Fluttershy! How did you get interested in the subject?”

Fluttershy swallowed hard. “Oh, um, well, the Department of Weather was hiring, you see, and, um, I’d been wanting something I could do on the side, in addition to running the shelter. And, um, you know how much I love the ground, so I figured that I could specialize in ground-level clouds.”

“I see,” Twilight replied, as she levitated several books off the shelves and began scanning their contents. “And all you had to do was volunteer?”

“Um, n-no...” So far, Fluttershy had managed to avoid saying anything that was untrue, but the conversation was now moving toward matters that required a bit more delicacy. “I, uh, took a course on the subject, and then I had to take a test.” Please, please, please don’t ask for more details....

“Right... but I guess they didn’t cover industrial accidents, did they?”

Fluttershy tried not to sound too relieved as she replied. “No, not really. In fact, I’m not certain why they want me to handle this.”

“Eh, more than likely there isn’t anypony who has experience with it, and a fog specialist was the closest substitute they could think of. The bureaucrats in Canterlot pull stuff like this all the time. Don’t worry—you’ll do fine. I’m sure of it.”

“I wish Rainbow Dash agreed with you. She thinks I should have sent you to check out the fog bank instead of Pinkie Pie.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. After all, how would I even get there? I can’t teleport that far away without getting tired, and my hot air balloon wouldn’t be much use if I have to travel against the north winds. I’m sure Pinkie Pie will be alright.”

August 31 – 8:09 AM

Pinkie Pie knew what ponies were supposed to do when they were lost: stay put and wait for help to arrive. Unfortunately, that wasn’t really an option for her, because she was fairly certain she was showing symptoms of that “hypothingamabobbia” thing Twilight Sparkle had once told her about. This meant she needed to stay as warm as possible, which wasn’t going to happen unless she kept moving.

Fortunately, heading in a straight line was a lot easier now that she was looking at the ground in front of her hooves, rather than the featureless grey expanse around her. Pinkie was fairly certain that if she kept moving in one direction, she’d eventually get out of the fog and into the warm summer air, where her body temperature could get back to normal and she’d be able to see some landmarks that would tell her where she was.

However, after several minutes of staring at the ground underhoof, Pinkie noticed something odd. The irregular pebbles she’d been walking on had taken on a more uniform quality; where before they were assorted shades of brown and grey, they were now all a bleached, off-white hue. Furthermore, almost every one of the small rocks was approximately the size of a donut hole, though the actual shapes were still quite variable. More importantly, they weren’t strewn about at random, as one might expect of rocks found in the middle of nowhere, but were instead piled up into straight furrows of consistent width and height, like the ridges on a washboard.

“That looks so familiar,” the earth pony muttered to herself, “but where would I have seen that before?” The mare’s puzzlement continued as she continued walking, until suddenly the furrows bent around a modestly-sized black rock. Pinkie Pie smacked a hoof against her forehead. “Of course! Why didn’t I figure this out before?” Abandoning her plan to move in a straight line, she turned right and started moving parallel to the ridges, increasing her speed to a from a walk to a trot to a canter as she went. This was going to work; there was simply no way this plan could fail.

Unless, of course, I was supposed to turn left....

August 31 – 8:11 AM

“You’d think that something like this would have been mentioned in the farmer’s almanac,” the grey earth pony remarked as she paged through a particularly thick volume. “I mean, I know they sometimes need to reschedule things, but there’s nothing about a fog bank mentioned in either August or September.” The mare looked up and peered over her glasses at the light brown stallion seated across from her at the kitchen table. “Shep? Are you listening to me?”

“Hmm? Oh, of course, dear. Something about going to the bank today, right?”

Shep’s wife closed the book and massaged one of her temples. “Look, I know you don’t like having your daily routine interrupted, but there’s no way to get anything done out there, and as long as you’re cooped up in the farmhouse, you might as well try making some conversation.”

The stallion sighed. “I’m sorry, dear. It’s just...” Shep trailed off as he tried to decide whether or not to finish his sentence.

Fortunately, somepony else made that decision for him. “It’s just what?”

Shep let out a deep breath as he answered: “It’s just that I’ve got a feeling that I need to do something.”

“As I said, I know you want to get back to work—”

“Not that kind of feeling. I mean a feeling. There’s a tingle in my left ear. I think somepony’s gotten lost out there.” Shep stood up and started walking towards the front door. “I need to look for them.”

His wife groaned. “Not this again...”

“I know you think it’s superstitious nonsense, but these hunches have yet to steer me wrong.” Shep had already lifted his raincoat off of its hook on the wall and proceeded to put it on.

The grey mare sighed. “But... this all seems so... unnatural. A pony could easily get lost out there.”

“That’s why I have to make sure nopony’s out there,” her husband replied as he lit a small lantern. “Don’t worry. The girls raked the gravel yesterday, and there’s no way a rock farmer can get lost on his land when the gravel’s been raked.” He briefly kissed his wife before putting on a wide-brimmed black hat. “I’ll be fine, Rhubarbara. Why don’t you brew some tea so we can warm up when we get back?”

“‘We’?”

“Me, and the pony I’m going to find out there.” Shepard’s Pie smiled, grabbed the lantern in his mouth, and set out into the fog.

August 31 – 8:18 AM

“Alright, will somepony please explain what in tarnation’s goin’ on here?”

Twilight Sparkle and Fluttershy glanced up from the various books, maps, and charts they’d been poring over for the past half-hour to see Applejack standing in front of them with a perplexed look on her face. “Is something the matter?” the unicorn asked, rising from the mountain of resources that had been building up around her.

“I dunno. That’s why I’m askin’. I came into town to sell my apples at the market, and for some reason all the weatherponies are flingin’ tornados every which way but loose. I figured I’d come and ask y’all about it, since it seems like you’d either know what’s goin’ on or know where to find out.”

“Well,” the librarian said, “I think the tornados are supposed to be pushing moist air out of the area, but you should really talk to Fluttershy about the specifics.”

Having never heard Twilight Sparkle defer to Fluttershy on any issue unrelated to Equestrian fauna, Applejack was somewhat taken aback. “Uh, okay. Er, what’s goin’ on, Fluttershy?”

The pegasus seemed a bit reluctant to divert her attention away from her isobaric map, though this seemed to be the result of general nervousness, rather than an intense work ethic. “Oh, um, there was an accident in Cloudsdale last night, and now a massive bank of industrial clouds is heading towards Ponyville. The Department of Weather put me in charge of taking care of it.”

Applejack raised an eyebrow skeptically. “They put you in charge? Why not one of the weatherponies?”

“Um, yes. I mean, low-altitude clouds are classified as fog, no matter where they come from, and I’m supposed to be a fog specialist... I guess.”

If Applejack detected any uncertainty in her friend’s voice, she gave no indication. “Huh... and this fog business is really worth makin’ a big deal over?”

“Probably, but I’ll have a better idea once Pinkie Pie gets back. I sent her over the Unicorn Range to have a look at it.”

The apple farmer rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Is that so? Interestin’... So, if I were to suggest that my customers stock up on apples—”

“Applejack, you can’t seriously be considering exploiting this situation to make a few extra bits,” Twilight Sparkle said with more than a hint of moral indignation in her voice.

The earth pony sighed. “Twi, you don’t understand. I’ve got a business to run, and that means takin’ advantage of the situations life gives ya, and from where I’m standin’, this kinda looks like it might turn out to be one of ’em.”

The unicorn didn’t seem very convinced. “In other words, you’ve got opportunity in this ve-ry community.”

Applejack groaned. “Alright, alright. I get yer point. I won’t scare customers just ta drum up sales. Still, I better restock on dried apple slices. When the preppers hear about this, they’re gonna go nuts, no matter what my sales pitch is.”

“Preppers?” Fluttershy asked.

Applejack shrugged. “Some ponies spend a lot of time and money preparin’ for every kinda doomsday y’all could think of. Can’t honestly say I blame ’em what with all the weird stuff that’s happened around Ponyville since Twi came to town. They’re always stockin’ up on food that’ll last a long time, since they’re expectin’ society to collapse at any moment.”

“Oh, come on,” Twilight said. “I know things haven’t turned out as pastoral and idyllic as the local postcards imply, but that’s ridiculous. How bad could things possibly get?”

“Well, a popular one recently is that the six of us are plannin’ on overthrowin’ the princesses an’ rulin’ Equestria with an iron hoof.”

“What?! But why would they buy apples from you if they think you’re part of a conspiracy?”

“They don’t. The ones that believe that buy them from Big Macintosh. But most of the time, it’s stuff like natural disasters they’re worried about, or maybe some big ol’ bad guy poppin’ up when we least expect it. In any case, they all plan on hiding with their food until it’s safe to rebuild civilization, or somethin’ like that.”

Twilight sighed. “I just don’t understand how anypony can be that paranoid and stay sane.”

“Says the unicorn who keeps assumin’ that Celestia’s gonna dump her as a student,” Applejack added with a smirk.

“That’s... different.”

Applejack chuckled softly, apparently deciding to drop the conversation and spare her friend the indignity of losing the argument. “Yeah, I know. But it’s fun to tweak ya. Anyway, I gotta get back to the market. Our apples might be able to sell themselves, but they sure as hay can’t make change. Oh, and Fluttershy?”

“Yes?” the pegasus answered.

“If’n there’s anythin’ I can do ta help out, just give me a holler.”

“Um, alright. Thank you.”

August 31 – 8:25 AM

It didn’t take Pinkie Pie very long to remember why she disliked her family’s business so much: it was boring. The gravel lines she was following just went on and on and on, only occasionally being interrupted by rocks that had been meticulously placed in spots chosen to take advantage of the natural flow of earth magic. This flow was enhanced by raking the bed of white gravel, and then Pinkie stopped listening to what her parents were saying because they started talking about the value of patience and inner peace and other stupid and pointless things that had absolutely nothing to do with having fun.

Still, even though the passage of time and a complete lack of interest in the subject had eroded much of Pinkie Pie’s specific knowledge of petriculture, she was fairly certain that if she followed the ridges, she’d eventually reach the edge of the rock field. Then, if she moved along the edge of the rock field, she’d probably reach the home of the ponies who owned it, and then she could figure out what to do next... assuming the farmers were home, that is.

Pinkie Pie’s uncharacteristic pessimism was broken, however, when she suddenly saw a light shining through the fog, swinging back and forth as though it were being dangled from a pony’s mouth. She cautiously moved towards it, afraid that it would turn out to be nothing more than some sort of hallucination, but stopped when the light suddenly lowered down and stopped moving. Had it been placed on the ground? That question was soon answered with another one: “Hello? Is there anypony out here?” The voice was rough and grating, a sandpaper baritone that nonetheless managed to be perfectly clear and articulate, and Pinkie recognized it almost immediately.

“Daddy?! Daddy, it’s me, Pinkie!”

As she continued to gallop towards the light, a very familiar silhouette began to form, with a wide-brimmed hat and an impressive pair of sideburns. “Pinkamena? Is that you?”

The pink pony grinned as wide as she could when she realized that the stallion she’d heard was exactly who she’d thought he was. “Oh, I’m so glad to see you! I mean, I knew I was lost, but I had no idea I was this lost, but now you’ve found me and I’ll be able to get back to Ponyville and everything is going to be super-duper!” Pinkie threw her forelegs around her father’s neck and squeezed him in the tightest hug she could manage, and the tan stallion was more than happy to return the favor, even though his smile wasn’t nearly as pronounced.

However, this hug also alerted Shepherd’s Pie to a more pressing matter: his daughter was cold, wet, and shivering. Without a second thought, he immediately took his raincoat off and placed it on Pinkie’s shoulders. “There... that should help you warm up a bit. But what are you doing out here?”

“Oh, I’m here to investigate the fog, actually. One of my friends is working for the pegasi in charge of all the weather, and she asked me to have a look because I can actually walk into the fog to see how thick it is.”

“I see... but wouldn’t the Department of Weather have this sort of information already?”

“Um, maybe, except this is actually the result of some sort of accident that happened last night.”

Shep looked really confused now. “Last night? But how on earth could you get here from Ponyville so quickly?”

“I flew here in my flying machine.”

“You have a flying machine?”

“Uh-huh.”

Shepherd’s Pie chuckled at the off-hoof way his daughter talked about such a strange idea as though it was perfectly normal. He and Rhubarb had been right to let her move to Ponyville—never had he met a pony so ill-suited for the life of a rock farmer. “So, why didn’t you just fly back out?”

“I had to land it after I got tired. Pedaling that thing takes a lot of energy, and even I’ve got my limits. I guess I should have just rested for a while and gotten back on it again, but... um... I was kind of curious, and I didn’t think I’d lose sight of the spruce tree so quickly. I probably would have gotten out on my own, but the fog was so thick and I was looking all around me and I wasn’t paying attention and I got lost—”

“No, Pinkie, you are mistaken,” Shep interrupted his daughter with an ever-so-slightly detectable smirk on his face.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“You were not lost, my daughter.”

“But Daddy, I had no idea where I was, and I’m pretty sure that’s what ‘lost’ means. Oh, wait, is this one of those inspirational-type things where you tell me that I was never lost because I had my family in my heart or something like that?”

“Not exactly. While it may be true that you didn’t know where you were, there are some unfortunate implications to that statement. You see, I only knew to come look for you because the Sense told me that there was a pony who’d gotten lost nearby.”

“What’s so bad about that?”

“In itself, nothing, but you forget that your mother believes the Sense to be nothing more than a series of coincidences, and she clearly voiced her disapproval of my decision to go outside at the urging of a tingle in my ear. Thus, if you tell her you were lost, that would mean she was wrong, with the implication that I had won the argument. As I would rather avoid the consequences of this situation, I ask that you tell your mother otherwise.”

It took Pinkie Pie a few seconds to fully understand what her father was saying, but eventually, her eyes lit up. “Oh... right. So, I was just... um... dropping in to visit?” Pinkie finished her proposed fib with a wink.

“Lose the wink, and I think that will do quite nicely,” Shep said as he stroked his chin. “Now, come on. We’ve got some hot tea brewing back at the farmhouse.”

“Okie dokie lokie!”

“So, tell me, Pinkamena, how’s your aunt doing?”

“Oh, just fine. She just got reelected to another term last month, so I threw her a grand old party to celebrate...”

August 31 – 9:06 AM

The library door burst open, scattering the piles of notes that Twilight Sparkle had been gathering for Fluttershy across the floor and causing a massive thud as the pegasus smacked her head against the ceiling. “I demand an explanation!”

Twilight did everything she could to avoid glaring at the white unicorn standing in the doorway as she began gathering up sheets of loose-leaf. “Is there a particular reason you’re being melodramatic, Rarity?”

Rarity didn’t seem to find this insulting, if only because she didn’t seem to hear it at all. “Fluttershy, we had an appointment for the mud bath, coat shampoo, and hooficure package at the spa at eight-forty sharp! I worried myself half to death when you didn’t show up. I’ve never known you to miss an appointment without good reason, and it seems to me that you could have come to the library after we’d finished.”

“Oh, um, I’m sorry, Rarity,” the pegasus apologized. “Something’s come up, and I didn’t have time to tell you that I couldn’t make it.”

“Something came up? I do hope you’re able to go into a bit more detail.”

Fluttershy took a deep breath and told her friend about the sudden accident in Cloudsdale, the massive bank of fog headed toward Ponyville, and the early-morning visit from a DOW bureaucrat that had resulted in the entire mess being dropped at her hooves. Even though the explanation was rather abbreviated (since the technical jargon probably would have gone over Rarity’s head), the whole thing was starting to become rote.

The fashionista seemed impressed as Fluttershy finished explaining the situation. “My word... and they’ve delegated all that responsibility to you?”

“Well, yes. I mean, I suppose so...”

Rarity’s eyebrow flew upwards with concern. “You ‘suppose so’? I hardly think the situation warrants any sort of ambiguity. Were I in your position, I’d be anxious to prove my mettle.”

“Fluttershy isn’t you,” Twilight pointed out.

“Touché,” Rarity granted. “But still, there’s no reason for the poor dear to waffle on the matter. I’m sure the Department of Weather would not have chosen her if they didn’t have full confidence in her abilities.”

“Assuming they’re right,” Fluttershy mumbled to herself. Unfortunately, Rarity overheard her.

“What do you mean, dearie? Are you saying there’s been a mistake? Darling, if some nameless bureaucrat checked the wrong box when filling out a stack of paperwork, I’m sure it can be corrected.”

“Um, no, they didn’t make a mistake. I’m a qualified fog specialist. I have the certificate and everything.”

“Well, then what possible reason could there be for you to be so nervous?”

By now, Fluttershy’s meekness was starting to border on self-parody. “Well, it’s just... I don’t know if they’ll take me seriously....”

“But darling, why on earth wouldn’t they? You only need to be assertive when giving your orders, and I’m sure everypony will get to work with minimal fuss.” The second of silence that followed was rather awkward, suggesting that something very important had yet to be introduced to the conversation. Rarity’s eyes suddenly widened as a flash of inspiration hit her. “Fluttershy, dear, are you worried that you’ll end up behaving as you did during the Iron Will incident? Because I can assure you that you have clearly demonstrated that you have the self-control to be assertive without becoming a bully.”

“No... it... it isn’t that.”

“Then what is it?”

“Well, I’m not a full-time weatherpony. This was just supposed to be something I did on the side. I thought it would just mean that I’d be called in as a consultant every now and then. I never thought I’d be put in charge of anything important.”

“Stop right there,” Rarity said, mustering up her most emphatic tone of voice. “There’s no need for you to be so evasive when your true situation is so blindingly obvious.”

Fluttershy’s eyes widened in panic. “It... it is?”

“Of course. Why else would you be lacking in confidence in your ability to complete a task when others have no reason to believe you are unqualified?”

The pegasus’ mind shifted from “panicked” to “frantic.” She’d been found out. She was done for. Her reputation was ruined, and the Lunar Guard would haul her off to prison—granted, it would probably be a minimum-security prison, but it was still prison! Who would take care of all the animals? Oh, why did she ever give in to temptation? Fluttershy took several deep breaths. She had to get a hold of herself; she might not be able to salvage her livelihood, but perhaps she could keep her friends, if she explained why she’d committed her misdeeds. “I’m... I’m sorry. You see, it’s not always easy keeping the shelter running....”

“Darling, now is not the time for apologies!”

“But if you’ll just listen—”

“Shush!” the white unicorn responded. “A matter as grave as this must be dealt with immediately. Fluttershy...”

“Y-yes?”

Rarity thrust a hoof into her friend’s face as she solemnly declared: “You should be wearing a cravat!”

August 31 ‒ 9:44 AM

Shepherd’s Pie’s lantern swayed back and forth as it dangled from his mouth. Given how dense the fog was, it didn’t do much to illuminate his surroundings, but that wasn’t the reason he’d brought it. Rather, Rhubarb had insisted that he bring it along so that his daughter wouldn’t become lost again as he led her back to the spruce tree where she’d originally landed her flying contraption.

Fortunately, that particular tree was something a of a local landmark. Most of the route was near the edges of the fog bank, where the cloud wasn’t as thick, and visibility was much better (then again, it was difficult to imagine how visibility could possibly be worse than the center of the fog). For her part, Pinkie Pie kept having to regulate her normally erratic pace to match her father’s in order to make sure she stayed near the lantern’s soft glow. Of course, this resulted in a gaping stretch of boring, and Pinkie couldn’t resist the temptation to fill it with a subject that had been on her mind since she’d bid her mother farewell.

“Um... I’m sorry for leaving the farm...”

Shepherd’s Pie stopped walking and set down his lantern. “Not this again,” he said, barely managing to suppress a groan. “Pinkamena, we’ve been over this. Your mother and I have never felt any resentment towards you for moving away. In fact, we’re quite proud of you.”

“But then why are you always talking about what Shoofly and Whoopie and Maud have done? Why not me?”

Shep chuckled softly at this, “We brag about you all the time, Pinkamena. After all, you’ve helped to save Equestria... how many times are you up to now?”

“Um, let me think.... Nightmare Moon was first, then Discord later on, and there was also the mess at the royal wedding a few weeks ago, so that makes three.”

“Well, in any case, you’re a national hero, and the Princesses consider you to be a personal friend of theirs. What parent wouldn’t be proud?”

“But I never hear you talk about that.”

“Well, of course you don’t. Why would we brag to you about the things you’ve done? You know far more about them than we do. Your sisters, on the other hand, are a different matter. You don’t spend as much time with them as you used to, so your mother and I try to fill you in on their accomplishments, since they’re of the sort that don’t end up in the newspapers.”

“You... you really mean it?”

“Absolutely. Maybe the next time you visit, you’ll be able to stay long enough for your mother to show off the scrapbook she’s made of all of your achievements. I daresay you’re the only guest we’ve ever had who hasn’t been browbeaten into listening to her entire two-hour presentation.”

Pinkie Pie giggled at the thought of her mother trying to describe her wacky antics while maintaining the stern, serious tone of voice that she preferred for, well, pretty much everything. “I think I’d like that.” The pink pony would have loved to continue the conversation, but at that moment, the massive spruce tree suddenly sprang out of the mist, as if it had been a timberwolf lying in wait for its prey. Pinkie’s gyrocopter was leaning against the trunk, right where she left it. As wonderful as it was to reconnect with her family, Fluttershy was waiting for her back in Ponyville. She hugged her father one last time and dragged her flying machine out from under the tree’s branches. “I promise you’ll be able to spend more time with me the next time I visit. Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye!”

Shep smiled as broadly as he could at his daughter, almost managing to show some of his teeth in the process. “Goodbye, Pinkie.” He watched her lift off of the ground, and continued to stare upwards long after his daughter had faded into the mists.

August 31 ‒ 10:00 AM

In retrospect, Pencil Pusher really shouldn’t have been surprised at how fancy the office looked. The floors, walls and ceiling all looked like they were made of polished white marble. The bureaucrat could even hear hoofbeats as his feet struck the surface, though in his sleep-deprived state, that could have been his imagination playing tricks on him. If he were anywhere else in Cloudsdale, a room like this would have seemed tremendously ostentatious, but this particular executive worked for the largest construction supply company in the Equestrian sky. Why wouldn’t the office be made from high-end materials?

As the secretary closed the door behind him, the bureaucrat glanced at the nameplate on the desk: Jasmine Breeze. It sounded like the name of a scented candle. Unfortunately, Ms. Breeze was apparently being somewhat delayed, and there weren’t any pictures that would give him any idea of what she looked like.

Still, it didn’t take very long before the door opened again, signaling the entrance of a cream-colored pegasus stallion with a chartreuse mane and wearing a pinstriped suit and a haggard expression on his face. “Sorry about the delay, Mr. Pusher,” the stallion said in a baritone voice. “As you can no doubt guess, there’s a lot of things that need to be resolved around here.”

“Uh, no problem,” Pencil Pusher replied, somewhat disingenuously. “Will, um, Jasmine Breeze be arriving, as well?”

“I am Jasmine Breeze.”

“You are?! Um, I mean, of course you are. It’s not like you’d just walk into somepony else’s office, right? That’d be, you know, insensitive.”

“It’s also a bit insensitive to assume that somepony is a mare just because they have a flower in their name.” The executive’s tone of voice made it clear that Pencil Pusher wasn’t the first pony to make this particular mistake.

“Oh, um, yeah. Sorry.”

“Might I suggest we dispense with the usual small talk? After all, I think we’re both rather busy at the moment.”

“Uh, right.” Pencil Pusher took a deep breath before starting to talk. “It’s about your formula.”

“Mr. Pusher, we’ve already given the Department of Weather all the information legally required of us.”

“Yeah, but what’s to stop you from going the extra kilotrot and telling us a bit more?”

“A potentially devastating reduction in our already precarious profit margins, for one thing.”

“Are you serious? It’s all about money to you ponies?” Pencil Pusher’s attempt to invest his voice with moral authority was somewhat undermined by the fact that it briefly cracked into a falsetto halfway into his second rhetorical question.

“I assure you that it isn’t. There’s more going on here than I can adequately explain.”

“Well, maybe you should try explaining it anyway, because that’s how it looks to me. Listen, in the past twenty-four hours, I’ve only gotten two hours of sleep—”

Jasmine Breeze, however, didn’t seem interested in letting the bureaucrat finish making his point. “With all due respect, Mr. Pusher, you are not the only pony who is suffering from sleep deprivation this morning, so I’d avoid trying to use emotional appeals to make it seem like you’re the only one who’s been working their flank off since this debacle started.”

Pencil Pusher sighed. “Okay, fine. But I still don’t see why you’re not willing to be more helpful. I’ve met the fog specialist who’s been assigned to handle this, and from what I can tell, she’s going to want as much information as you can give her. I mean, don’t you realize that everypony’s going to assume that Caligo must be an evil, greedy corporation?”

Jasmine Breeze responded with a sigh of his own. “Why do you think we made you wait for two hours while we were talking to our public relations consultants?”

“You... you’re really willing to take a PR hit just to make some money?”

“If you want to be cynical, you could put it that way. From our point of view, however, helping your specialist would mean taking a risk that could completely destroy this company.”

“I’m not sure I understand....”

Jasmine Breeze ran a hoof through his mane. “Okay... let me try to explain this. The first thing you have to understand is that the market for cloud-based construction in Las Pegasus is extremely lucrative right now. Any company that manages to dominate that particular market share will likely be rewarded with years of financial security. You with me so far?”

“I think so.”

“Good. Now, the second thing you need to keep in mind is that it’s very difficult to make clouds that can last a long time in hot, arid regions. As a result, most of the cloud structures in Las Pegasus need to be renovated every few years to keep them from disintegrating. This gets very expensive in the long term. Thus, if somepony developed clouds that could last for a very long time in those conditions with relatively little maintenance, those clouds would very quickly become the primary building materials in Las Pegasus, even if the initial cost was higher than the cost of standard clouds.”

“And that’s what you’ve developed?”

“Precisely. However, it wasn’t easy, because it requires a lot of precision pegasus magic to make clouds behave in such an abnormal fashion. We’ve sunk an extraordinary amount of bits into our research and development, just to find a way to make the entire process economically feasible. If, however, one of our competitors found out what we’ve actually done to these clouds...”

“...you’d be in trouble,” Pencil Pusher finished. “I guess that sort of makes sense, but... couldn’t you get insurance or something for that?”

“As a matter of fact, we did take out an insurance policy against industrial espionage, which would allow us to recoup most of the research and development costs. We’d still lose our competitive edge, but we wouldn’t be so far in the red that the whole company would be at risk.”

“So what’s the problem, then?”

“We’ve run into an unexpected snag. You see, representatives from our insurance company claim that to share any information about the formula with anyone outside the company beyond what is legally required would be the same thing, for their purposes, as releasing it to the public. Thus, it would no longer be covered by our industrial espionage policy.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

“I wish I was. I assure you that our legal department is doing everything they can to argue otherwise, as we’re fairly certain that the media will place the blame squarely on Caligo’s hooves, but until then...”

The executive continued explaining himself, but Pencil Pusher wasn’t really listening anymore. He had more than enough experience with arcane bureaucratic procedures to know a lost cause when he saw one. Maybe you should just let the whole thing go, he thought to himself. After all, it’s not like there’s anypony between here and Ponyville that you actually know. The more visually-oriented section of his brain responded by producing the image of a yellow pegasus with a long pink mane. Nice try, but a fifteen-minute conversation does not count as “getting to know somepony.” Listen, you’ve done everything that’s been asked of you. Nopony’s going to be mad if you just took the rest of the day off and got some sleep. All you need to do is fly back to work, and then get out of there before Greg unloads more crap on you.

Pencil Pusher couldn’t really argue with this logic. However, the other participant in this internal debate had arguments that didn’t rely on any logic whatsoever. The yellow mare reappeared, but instead of the disheveled, dragged-out-of-bed look she’d had when he’d met her, his mind now presented him with a glamour shot from her former career as a supermodel. This was followed up with images of her living room, which didn’t show any evidence that she had a special somepony, and images of his lonely, sparsely furnished apartment. It didn’t take long for Pencil Pusher to make his decision.

Ugh... fine. Have it your way. We’ll be a good little overachiever and try to impress her. But if it turns out that she does have a special somepony, I’m going to keep reminding you of this humiliation for the rest of your life. This seemed like a fair enough trade-off, but on the other hoof, he didn’t really have any idea how he could help her out.

Oh, that? It’s fairly simple, actually.

“What if she signed a nondisclosure agreement?”

Jasmine Breeze stopped talking and looked at his guest. “Excuse me?”

“A nondisclosure agreement,” Pencil Pusher repeated. “What if the fog specialist was willing to agree in writing that she wouldn’t share anything you told her with anypony else? Wouldn’t that satisfy the insurance company?”

“Hmm... it just might. Hold on, I’m going to send out a memo to legal.” As the executive started scribbling on a nearby notepad, Pencil Pusher couldn’t help but smile. Now, all he had to do was make sure that Fluttershy actually knew who he was....

August 31 – 11:00 AM

Applejack had been doing fairly brisk business all morning, but nothing particularly out of the ordinary happened until the bell in the clock tower sounded eleven times. As the final peal faded away, the farmer’s attention was drawn to the sound of a purse full of bits being dropped onto her stall’s counter.

“Dried apple slices. Now.”

Applejack didn’t even have to look at her customer to know who it was. “Mornin’, Bon-Bon.”

Most residents of Ponyville knew Bon-Bon as the town’s premier confectioner—basically, anything sugary that didn’t fall into the category of “baked goods” could be purchased from her. Her chocolate truffles were decadently scrumptious, her gummi candies were bursting with fruit flavors, and her oversized lollipops were the bane of dentists throughout Equestria.

However, a select few also knew that that the candymaker was one of the most obsessive preppers around, and that the custom-built steel-reinforced shelter in her basement had one of the most well-stocked pantries for any doomsday scenario that a pony could possibly imagine. Of course, as far as Bon-Bon was concerned, there was ultimately only one kind of apocalypse that was even remotely imaginable, but it was one that loomed large over the whole of ponykind.

“I take it you heard about the fog,” Applejack commented as she pulled several bags of dehydrated fruit from her cart and placed them in front of her customer.

“Hmph,” Bon-Bon snorted derisively. “As if they’d go to all this trouble if it was something as mundane as some wayward clouds. You know what this is really about, don’t you?”

The farmer sighed; she’d had this conversation many times before, and every time it managed to end up in the same place. “Lemme guess: humans?”

“Exactly!” Bon-Bon said excitedly as she slammed a hoof on the counter. “This fog has obviously been unleashed upon us to provide cover for the invasion!” Applejack had no idea where the mare had gotten the idea of humans from, but she’d heard more than enough rants to get a fairly good idea of what they were supposed to be like. Allegedly, humans were a species of superintelligent, hairless sasquatches who could somehow cause widespread devastation despite their complete inability to use any sort of magic whatsoever. According to Bon-Bon, these heinous creatures coveted the vast resources of Equestria, and were forever planning to launch an invasion, intent on taking possession of the land and subjugating the ponies who lived on it.

Of course, Bon-Bon was always quick to point out that she didn’t think the humans would actually succeed; there was no way that they’d be able to overcome the might of the Royal Princesses. “But they won’t be able to prevent all the destruction. Mark my words: those monsters are sore losers, and if they can’t have Equestria, they won’t let us keep it either. It’s called a scorched-earth policy, my friend. That’s why stores of food are going to be especially important to the rebuilding process. You know, it might not be too late to have some basic modifications done to your barn to reinforce it. Luna knows, that thing always seems to be falling down—”

“I think we’ll take our chances.”

“Are you sure? Because I know a contractor here in Ponyville who has very reasonable rates.”

“Pretty sure. The Apples have always been willin’ ta take risks.”

“If you say so, but I really think...” Bon-Bon trailed off as she heard a vague chopping sound from above, accompanied by occasional squeaks and whistles. She briefly scanned the skies above for a few seconds until she spotted what she was looking for. “What the— Since when are the helicopters supposed to be pink?!” The confectioner quickly scooped her purchases into her saddlebags, informed Applejack she could keep the change, and galloped off towards her home.

Curious, Applejack looked upwards herself. “Huh... looks like Pinkie Pie’s back.”

August 31 – 11:17 AM

“So, uh, Rarity? Could you explain what a cravat is again?”

The white unicorn had a bewildered look on her face, as if it she’d never expected anypony to ask her something so patently obvious. This expression soon passed, however. After all, Spike was only a baby dragon. “Well, dear, the cravat is a sort of neckband that was the forerunner to the modern necktie. As such, it is worn underneath a collar, and tied in a knot—though not so tight as to restrict a pony’s ability to breathe.”

“Oh, um, okay.” That didn’t quite answer Spike’s question, but he figured that it would be much clearer once Rarity had actually selected a cravat for Fluttershy.

“No... no... Celestia’s mane, no... no.... Paisley?! How on earth did that ever get in my collection?” Rarity floated several pieces of fabric in front of her, comparing their textures and hues to those of Fluttershy’s coat and mane before flinging the rejected options in Spike’s general direction. It was the dragon’s job to retrieve and reorganize these swatches, to keep the library floor from becoming a chaotic mess.

Of course, Fluttershy had plenty of experience with this ritualistic fussing—it was standard practice for Rarity to begin the creative process with a string of rejected ideas. In fact, were she so inclined, Fluttershy might have answered her friend’s rhetorical question by suggesting that she put it there so she could make a comment about how much she disliked the paisley-patterned fabric. The pegasus, however, remained silent, mostly because she was Fluttershy, and partly because making snarky comments to a friend who was trying to help her out was a bit rude.

“Are you really sure this is worth taking up Fluttershy’s time?” Twilight asked, clearly skeptical.

“Absolutely! There are few things that convey a sense of authority quite like neckwear. Or are you not familiar with the concept of the ‘power tie’?”

“Actually, I am,” Twilight Sparkle replied. “I remember coming across the term in a book as a filly and asking my dad about it. He told me it’s something haberdashers made up to sell more neckties to easily intimidated stallions.”

Rarity rolled her eyes. “Well, I suppose that if one assumes a power tie is supposed to give somepony a psychological advantage in a conversation, one could be forgiven for dismissing the idea as hogwash. I, on the other hoof, am referring to the more general idea that authority figures should dress like authority figures if they want to be taken seriously. After all, one would not expect anypony to respect the mayor if she wore her clown costume at any time other than Nightmare Night.”

“Oh,” Fluttershy said, entering the conversation. “Is that why she wears a cravat?” She’d hoped there was a good reason for her to be wearing a heavily starched collar—not that she minded the excuse to think about something other than the fog.

“Precisely. It’s also the reason she dyes her mane grey.”

“I thought she did that because her mane clashes with her coat,” chirped a new voice from behind the fashionista, causing her to drop all of her fabric samples on the floor.

“Pinkie Pie! When did you get here?”

“Around the time you started talking about my Auntie Diane’s clown costume. So, Fluttershy,” the earth pony said, “ready to hear my report?”

“Um, sure,” the fog specialist lied. “Go ahead.”

“Okay. Well, as far as how fast it’s moving, it took about 45 seconds for the fog to travel twenty trots.”

Fluttershy briefly did some mental math before nodding. “Okay, I guess that’s about what I’d expect given the reported wind speeds. Um, do you have any idea how big it is?”

“Uh, no, actually. I wasn’t flying high enough to see the whole thing.”

Fluttershy knew that the fog bank was supposed to be really big, but this... well, it didn’t sound good. “Um, that’s okay,” she responded. “I didn’t really ask for that, after all. So, er, how thick is it?”

“Well, really, really, really thick. I wasn’t walking for very long before I couldn’t make out anything other than the ground, and when I looked behind me, I could barely see the end of my tail. I, um, got lost. I eventually got lucky, and ended up on my family’s rock farm, which was good, because it was also really cold and damp and I was starting to shiver and shake all over the place and my hooves were getting numb.”

“What?!” Twilight Sparkle shouted, concern etched onto her face. “Pinkie, are you certain about this?”

“Oh, definitely. It was my father who found me, and my mother was in the house he led me to, so I’m pretty certain that it was their farm.”

Twilight glowered at her friend for a few seconds before responding: “I was referring to your body’s physical reaction to the fog.”

“My goodness, Twilight, you look like you’re about to panic,” Rarity said, pausing from her task of sorting through various swatches of fabric.

“That’s because Pinkie Pie was showing symptoms of hypothermia. Fluttershy, if this is true, then this fog isn’t just a threat to pegasus ponies. Any earth ponies and unicorns who get caught in it are going to be in serious trouble.”

This was the last thing the fog specialist wanted to hear at the moment. “Er... when you say ‘serious,’ you wouldn’t happen to mean it in the sense of ‘not particularly funny,’ would you?”

“I mean that it’s quite possible that we’ll have non-pegasi who need medical attention if they aren’t inside when the fog arrives.”

Fluttershy’s ears drooped as she realized the implication: the number of ponies who’d be relying on her for her leadership and knowledge had effectively tripled. “But... fog shouldn’t be that bad. Not at this time of year.”

“I’m pretty sure we’ve established that this fog isn’t normal. Fluttershy, we need to form a plan.”

“Oh... right. A plan. Um, okay. When Rainbow Dash gets back, we’ll start discussing strategies, to, um... implement.” Fluttershy really hoped that sentence made her sound like she knew what she was talking about.

“Speaking of whom, where is Rainbow Dash?” Rarity asked. “I haven’t seen her all morning.”

“Oh, she went off to let the pegasi who aren’t on the weather team know about the fog this morning.”

“I see... and when was this?”

“Um, she got started... nearly five hours ago.”

“Right,” Twilight said, somewhat skeptically. “And how long would you expect her job to take?”

“Uh, not too long. I mean, I asked her to do it because she’s so fast.”

“Is that so?” the purple unicorn replied with a distinctly skeptical note in her voice. “Tell me, how was she acting right before she left you?”

“Well, not like she usually does. I mean, she volunteered to scout the fog for me this morning, and she seemed a little bit annoyed to find out that I’d already sent Pinkie Pie to do it. Um, you don’t think she’s in trouble, do you?”

“If she isn’t, there’s a good chance she will be,” Twilight muttered.

“Um, could you speak up?” Fluttershy asked. “I, uh, didn’t quite get that.”

“Never mind. Uh, look, maybe you should have somepony on the weather team go find her.”

“But... I don’t want to impose...”

“Fluttershy, I’m pretty sure that imposing is part of your job description. I mean, according to the Department of Weather, everypony who gets a paycheck from them answers to you until this fog is taken care of.”

“Oh, right... I guess I forgot about that.” Fluttershy turned towards Pinkie Pie. “Pinkie, could you find a member of the weather team and have them tell Rainbow Dash to come to the library? Um, if they give you any trouble, you can just tell them I said so, I suppose.”

Pinkie responded with a crisp salute. “Yes sir, Commander Fluttershy! About... face! Company... march! Hut, two, three, four! Hut, two, three, four! Unintelligible... yell!” She somehow managed to hold the stern expression on her face until she shut the library door behind her, after which several seconds of muffled giggling could be heard before they finally faded away.

“Well,” Rarity said as she once again started levitating fabrics in the air, “at least you have a better idea of what you’re up against.”

“Yeah,” Fluttershy replied dolefully. But I still have no idea what to do about it.

August 31 – 11:27 AM

Rainbow Dash was angry.

She was angry at that company in Cloudsdale who’d created this mess. She was also angry at the Department of Weather for unceremoniously reducing her to a figurehead on her own weather team, and she was absolutely furious with the alleged fog specialist who’d wasted her undeniable skills on a task as inconsequential as “letting everypony else know what was going on.” But most of all, she was angry at herself, because she knew perfectly well that she was acting like a petulant foal.

The grumpy pegasus sat on the cloud where Fluttershy had addressed the weather team this morning. Rainbow Dash had returned there once her task had been completed, only to find it deserted. Apparently, the specialist had decided to move her base of operations, neglecting to leave any indication of her new location for Rainbow Dash to find. So, she decided to wait there until new orders came from the fog specialist, and if said fog specialist didn’t bother to give her any, it was no down off her wings. It would have been an ideal arrangement, were it not for her stupid conscience that wouldn’t shut the feather up and leave her alone.

Rainbow Dash had found that the trouble with trying to argue with her conscience was that it only told her things she already believed to be true. She’d never expected Fluttershy to somehow avoid making mistakes entirely, and it was silly to think that none of those mistakes would have involved her. Furthermore, Fluttershy had never actually said that she thought Pinkie Pie was more qualified to scout the fog bank. She did, however, say that Rainbow Dash was the pony most qualified to let all the other pegasi know what was going on. Maybe she thought that job was more important than the one she sent Pinkie on. Rainbow Dash didn’t know, because she was too busy sulking to report back to her friend. Did it really matter if she’d gotten her pride hurt? After all, Fluttershy needed her help, and she was the Element of Loyalty.

The pegasus groaned she flopped back onto the cloud. She hated it when her conscience brought up the subject of being loyal to her friends. It didn’t seem fair; after all, Pinkie Pie never felt guilty for being unhappy. No, came the obvious response, but she does feel pretty bad whenever she makes other ponies unhappy. It’s the same whenever Applejack’s dishonest, Rarity’s stingy, Twilight Sparkle’s... whatever the opposite of “magic” is, or whenever Fluttershy acts like a jerk. Youfeel bad for wanting to abandon Fluttershy, and you should feel bad.

Rainbow Dash agreed with this sentiment completely, of course. As her father had once explained to her, “Your conscience isn’t there to persuade you to do the right thing, it’s there to tell you that you’re doing the wrong thing. The sooner you shut up and do what it says, the better off you’ll be.” Of course, Rainbow Dash had been an adult mare long enough to know that this particular piece of advice wasn’t always true, but she also knew that most of the time, it was.

Still, it would have been easier to ask for forgiveness if she’d had any indication that Fluttershy knew how she’d made her feel.

Why don’t you tell her?

“Will you just shut up already?!”

“But... I haven’t said anything yet.”

Rainbow Dash sat up abruptly and saw a black stallion hovering in front of her. “Oh, uh, I wasn’t talking to you, Thunderlane.” Even as the words escaped her mouth, she knew exactly what the response would be.

“Then who were you talking to?”

“Uh, that doesn’t matter very much. Is there something I can do for you?”

“Well, Pinkie Pie told me that Commander Fluttershy wants to see you at the library. I thought the DOW assigned her to this job, though. Never would have pegged her as the military type.”

“She isn’t! ‘Commander’ Fluttershy? That’s a bunch of... hang on. Did you say Pinkie Pie told you this?”

“Yeah...”

Rainbow Dash sighed. “Never mind.” She had plenty of things to worry about even before taking Pinkie’s Pinkiness into account. “I’d better get going.”

August 31 – 11:31 AM

Pencil Pusher felt quite proud of himself as he landed outside the drab office building where he worked. Caligo’s lawyers had loved his idea of having the specialist sign a nondisclosure agreement, and they had quickly modified some boilerplate from their files accordingly. For good measure, they even included some forms that would allow them to claim that they’d hired Fluttershy as a “consultant,” which would more than likely obliterate any attempt on the part of their insurance company to claim that they’d released the formula to the public. Those forms were now secure in the bureaucrat’s saddlebags.

That, however, was not the main reason for his sudden burst of self-confidence. No, the reason he now had an extra spring in his trot was that he’d figured out a way to recoup this debacle: if he played his cards right, there was a chance that he could find himself dating a total hottie—a supermodel, in fact!

He had it all figured out. Once his insensitive lunkhead of a boss sent him back to Ponyville (which was precisely what Greg would do, because he was a predictably self-absorbed twit), Pencil Pusher would be able to reintroduce himself and establish a working relationship with her, during which he could demonstrate his wit and work ethic, which was admirably impeccable, at least by the standards of a government bureaucracy. Then, when things calmed down, he’d invite her to dinner. Nothing too fancy, but definitely on a higher rung than a local sandwich shop. And then... well, not even the sky was the limit—they were both pegasi, after all.

Pencil Pusher was so entranced by his reverie that he hardly heard any of his boss’s comments as he looked over the forms. At least, not until the end: “Nice work. Rest of the day off.”

The bureaucrat blinked several times as he tried to process this response. Surely, Greg couldn’t have meant what it sounded like he meant. “Um... I beg your pardon, but... what exactly does that mean?”

“Means you don’t have to work for the rest of the day,” Greg replied. “Go home. Sleep. Back to work tomorrow.”

“B-But who’s going to deliver these forms to the fog specialist?”

“Somepony else, obviously.” Greg seemed to be getting slightly annoyed. “Why?”

“Oh, well, it’s just that I... I was, um, concerned that having several ponies interacting with the specialist might make coordination difficult for her. It makes more sense for her to only have to deal with one representative of the department, doesn’t it?” Pencil Pusher hoped that the smile that accompanied his answer looked at least somewhat genuine.

“Point,” his boss. “Irrelevant, though. Already in hot water for sending you to Caligo. Should have said you’d been working all night.”

“Oh, uh, but sir, I think that this is, you know, really important. I mean, the whole department is going to look bad if everything goes to Tartarus because of a communication issue, right?”

“You sure about this?”

“Absolutely, sir.”

“Alright, then. I’ll let the higher ups know you volunteered.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“No, thank you. Don’t have to worry about paying you overtime, now that you’re doing it for free.”

“That’s ri... Hang on, free?”

“Wouldn’t be volunteering if we paid you. While we’re at it, mind if I list your little trip to Caligo as volunteering, too? Thanks.”

“Huh?”

“Better get going. Three-hour flight to the specialist’s base of operations, right? Also, lunchtime for me.” Greg strolled confidently out of his office, leaving Pencil Pusher staring slack-jawed at his door.

August 31 – 11:40 AM

On a table outside of Sugarcube Corner, three fillies (one from each pony race) were doing their best to counter the heat by imbibing some cold refreshments; this trio was known locally as the Cutie Mark Crusaders for their near-constant (and, some might say, often misguided) attempts to “earn” their cutie marks. Each of the ponies had decided to try a new thirst quencher that day: Apple Bloom had ordered an egg cream (which, despite the name, contained neither eggs nor cream), Scootaloo was working on a banana date shake, and Sweetie Belle had ordered a lime phosphate, mostly because she thought the word “phosphate” sounded sophisticated.

The three of them were also engaged in a conversation, which had just recently lulled. This was unfortunate, because it created an opening for Sweetie Belle to break one of the most sacred taboos held by foals across Equestria. “So, are you guys ready for school next week?”

Scootaloo abruptly spit a mouthful of milkshake, nearly covering the unicorn’s tail in fruity goo. “Sweetie Belle! Why on earth would you even bring something like that up?!”

“Well, Cheerilee did give us some homework to do before the summer break was over.”

The pegasus, however, wasn’t interested in any of this personal responsibility nonsense. “You do not talk about school during summer vacation. It defeats the entire point.”

“But there isn’t much time left.”

“Which is why we need to savor every moment instead of wasting time on our education. Apple Bloom, back me up here.”

“Nuh-uh. Watchin’ you two argue about it is too much fun for me ta tip the balance one way or the other. Besides, I got all my homework done on the first rainy day of break. Applejack insisted. Good thing, too, ’cuz now I get ta goof off all I want.”

Scootaloo rolled her eyes. She couldn’t quite understand why anypony would deny themselves the joy of procrastination, but that was neither here nor there—the important thing was to change the subject of the conversation to something safe. “Hey, do you guys have any bits left?”

“Yeah,” Sweetie Belle replied. “Why?”

“I was thinking maybe we could get some jawbreakers from Bon-Bon’s.”

This seemed fairly reasonable, so the trio headed to the confectioner’s shop to indulge in tooth-rotting goodness. However, when they brought their candies to the counter to purchase them, they couldn’t help but notice that the proprietor was acting... odd.

“Um, Miss Bon-Bon?” Apple Bloom asked. “Are you lookin’ for somepony?”

“What? Er, no, dear. Why do you ask?”

“Well, you keep shiftin’ yer eyes back and forth, like somepony’s out ta getcha.”

“Oh, um, really? Well, I, uh, I can assure you that I’m not worried about any pony....”

“Well, then what’s there to worry about?” Scootaloo asked. “I mean, my parents told me that there was some sort of fog coming soon, but you’re an earth pony, right?”

“Hmph. So they’re still pretending that it’s just fog?”

“You mean there’s more to it?”

“Well, I guess I can figure out why they wouldn’t want to panic the civilians—it’s misguided, but understandable. And I don’t want you three to get too panicky....”

“Hey, we aren’t foals!” Scootaloo insisted. “Tell us what’s going on!”

“I don’t know...” In the past, sharing her opinions with underaged ponies had resulted in some rather unpleasant friction with their guardians.

“Pleeeaase?” the Crusaders asked in unison, each of them attempting to look as adorably precocious and innocent as possible.

Bon-Bon hated the “sad puppy face.” It was a blatant attempt to play at the emotions, and even worse was the fact that it worked every single time. The candymaker sighed in resignation and dropped her voice as she quietly answered, “Humans.”

“Humans?” Sweetie Belle squeaked.

“Keep your voice down! There’s no telling how they’re getting their information.”

“Sorry,” the unicorn filly replied. “It’s just that I’ve never heard of humans before.”

“I’m not surprised,” Bon-Bon replied. The confectioner spent the next fifteen minutes explaining the nature of these horrific monsters which had quite possibly spawned from the very depths of Tartarus, and how their ravenous greed was now focused on their fair country. “This fog is just the prelude to the full invasion, I’m sure of it.”

None of the Crusaders was entirely certain what a “prelude” was, but that didn’t seem to be a very pressing issue at the moment. “What can we do?”

Bon-Bon sighed. What could she say to them? They were only fillies, so it wasn’t like they had the money to start their own stockpile of resources. “Right now? I guess the best thing you can do is find a hiding place. Once it’s safe, try to make it back here. I’ll have some food that you can share with your families.” After all, it was important to be a good neighbor, even in an apocalyptic wasteland.

The Crusaders thanked the earth pony for her generosity and exited the store to discuss what to do next.

“Do you think the clubhouse will be safe?”

“Oh, come on, Sweetie Belle, we can do better than just running away,” Scootaloo said. “You heard Bon-Bon. These things want to destroy Equestria! What good is hiding going to do?”

“I know it don’t sound like much,” Apple Bloom said, “but what else can we do?”

The pegasus filly rubbed her chin thoughtfully before responding, “Well, we know that the humans are using the fog as cover to take Ponyville by surprise, right?”

“Right,” her friends answered in unison.

“Well, what if they never get here in the first place? What if we stop them?”

“But... we’re just fillies,” Sweetie Belle replied. “How are we supposed to fight a horde of monsters?”

“We don’t have to,” Scootaloo replied, her voice growing more confident as a plan formulated in her head. “We can trap them instead.”

“Trap ’em?” Apple Bloom asked.

“Yeah! The whole point of the fog is so they can invade Ponyville without anypony seeing them, but that also means that they won’t be able to see anything either! So, if we set up a bunch of traps around Ponyville...”

“We’ll stop the humans before they can start fighting in the first place!” Sweetie Belle finished excitedly.

The perfection of Scootaloo’s plan was not lost on Apple Bloom, either: “And once we stop the invasion, we’re sure ta get our cutie marks!”

The trio was grinning wildly as the pure awesomeness of the idea became more and more undeniable. The three of them bumped their hooves together and chorused: “Cutie Mark Crusader Human Trappers Go!”

Author's Note

I actually have a theory about what the "opposite of magic" would be, but it was excluded from this story because I'm pretty sure it would never occur to Rainbow Dash. Luckily, I have a rather detailed blog post that explains it fully, if you're interested.

August 31 – 11:54 AM

Rainbow Dash had been staring at the library’s door for five minutes now. Fluttershy was on the other side; she knew this to be true, because she could hear the muffled voice of the part-time fog specialist discussing... something with Twilight Sparkle. Probably the fog, she reasoned. You really should go in there and join them. The pegasus growled softly to nopony in particular. Sometimes, her conscience’s persistence could be really obnoxious. Deciding that the best course of action was to get the awkwardness over with and forego knocking, she swiftly opened the door.

“Eek!”

Twilight Sparkle sighed as she stared at the yellow pegasus who had once again grabbed one of the rafters in her ceiling. “Why does everypony have to barge in today?” she asked rhetorically. “You can come down, Fluttershy. It’s just Rainbow Dash.”

“It is? Oh, um, that’s good.” The fog specialist landed back on the library floor in front of the new arrival. “You... you didn’t run into any problems spreading the news, did you?”

Rainbow Dash nervously ran a hoof through her mane. “Not exactly...”

“That’s good to hear. I was starting to get a little bit worried. Anyway, the Department of Weather should be sending somepony in a few hours to hear my plan. And, well, I’d like your help coming up with one. Ideally, I’d want Pinkie Pie to be here for this, too, but she has some personal business to take care of, so it might be an hour or so before she gets back. Twilight’s been handling the more complex mathematics for me, so I don’t think we’ll need to worry too much about that.” Rainbow Dash glanced behind Fluttershy and saw that the librarian had strolled over to a collection of chalkboards covered in equations and data and was now consulting a slide rule.

Rainbow Dash was sorely tempted to simply jump right back into doing her job, but she had some personal business of her own that needed to be handled. “Hey, um, Fluttershy? Before we get started, I kind of need to talk to you. Uh, in private.”

“Hmm? Oh, of course. Is there a place we can go, Twilight?”

“Try the kitchen,” Twilight said, not bothering to look away from her calculations. “Spike’s helping Rarity with your cravat, so it should be empty.”

The two pegasi quickly entered the kitchen, which, as its tenant suspected, was unoccupied. “Okay, Rainbow Dash,” Fluttershy said as she shut the door behind her. “What did you want to talk about?”

The blue pegasus sighed. Here we go.... “It’s about what happened this morning.”

“Huh? Oh, that’s not really all that important.”

“Actually, it is. When you sent me out to tell all the other pegasi about the fog, I just felt like you didn’t fully appreciate my talent.”

“Oh, um, well, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

What the— Why is she apologizing? This was definitely not the way that this conversation was supposed to go. “No, you don’t understand. You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Fluttershy. I’m the one who overreacted.”

The yellow pegasus, however, looked a bit worried. “Are you sure about that?”

Rainbow Dash wasn’t really sure what that was supposed to mean, but she knew that her conscience would never shut up if this conversation kept getting sidetracked like this. “Look,” she finally managed to blurt out, “I... I’m sorry I snapped at you like that.” There, that wasn’t so bad, was it? And now for the second part... “And I’m sorry for not getting back to you when I was finished. I... I guess I just let my pride get the best of me, you know?”

Fluttershy smiled and hugged her friend. “It’s okay... we all make mistakes.” Though yours was nothing compared to mine, she didn’t add. “If it’s any consolation, I probably would have sent you, if I had thought of it.”

Rainbow Dash seemed rather confused by this revelation. “But why wouldn’t you have thought of me when you came up with the idea?”

“Oh, no, that’s not what I meant. I meant that it wasn’t even my idea in the first place. Pinkie Pie was the one who thought of it.”

“You... took an idea from Pinkie Pie?!”

“Well, she wanted to help, but I couldn’t think of anything for her to do.”

“So, when you said that she volunteered, you meant that she just volunteered to help in general? Are you saying that before that, you never even considered having somepony look at the fog bank to verify that the report the desk jockeys gave you was accurate?”

“Um... yes. I mean, I guess it worked out okay in the end. If you had gone, we’d never have been able to learn that the fog is dangerous to earth ponies and unicorns.”

This, apparently, was the last thing that Rainbow Dash expected to hear, if her gaping mouth was any indication. “What?! But... how could... huh?!”

“It’s not just really thick. It’s also cold and wet, and Pinkie started showing symptoms of hypothermia.”

The word sounded vaguely familiar to the blue pegasus, but she couldn’t quite figure out where she’d heard it. “Uh, what’s that again?”

“It’s, um, when your temperature gets too low. I usually have to take care of some animals that get it during the winter. In its worst stages, it causes extremely violent shivering, a loss of feeling in the extremities, and interferes with your ability to think straight. It’s... well, it’s not a very pleasant way to, um, go.”

Hearing that list of symptoms suddenly reminded Rainbow Dash of precisely where she’d heard the term before: Daring Do and the Secret of Shetlan-Da. The plucky unicorn colt who’d been serving as Daring’s guide through the Himalneighan Mountains had come down with those symptoms right before they reached the ancient temple. Rainbow Dash had been sure that he’d be okay, because he was a totally cool little guy, and there was no way the author would really let anything bad happen, right?

It was the first time Rainbow Dash had cried over the fate of somepony who didn’t exist.

And now, real ponies were in danger from the exact same thing. It was official: sulking on that cloud for two hours had secured a spot as one of the flat-out stupidest things she had ever done. “Come on, we need to start making a plan.”

August 31 – 12:01 PM

“Come on, we need to start making a plan.” After briefly splitting up to retrieve their official Cutie Mark Crusading Capes™ from their homes, the Cutie Mark Crusaders had returned to their clubhouse and were now poring over the surprisingly detailed map that Sweetie Belle had picked up at the Ponyville Visitor’s Center, which depicted the town and the area immediately surrounding it (with special attention paid to those places where tourists and other consumers could spend their hard-earned bits). The fillies, however, did not have time to support the local economy, as there were national security issues which were far more pressing.

“We should put the traps here,” the unicorn filly continued, tapping an empty field north of town.

“Why there?” Scootaloo asked.

“The humans are using the fog as cover for their invasion, right? And you said that your parents were talking about the fog coming in from the mountains.”

“Uh, yeah, I guess.”

“Well, the mountains are to the north, so if we put the traps there, the humans will walk right into them.”

“Ya sure ’bout that?” Apple Bloom drawled. “That’s an awfully big area. They might miss the traps altogether.”

“Okay, so where do you think we should build them?”

“Why not here?”

“Huh?” Scootaloo responded. “Why would we set up traps inside the clubhouse?”

Apple Bloom sighed. “Not ‘here’ as in the clubhouse. I’m talkin’ about this orchard!”

The pegasus, however, didn’t quite see the logic in this statement. “What makes you so sure that they’ll come here?”

“Well, this s’posed ta be the start of somethin’ big, right?”

“Yeah...”

“Well, then I’d say the first thing they’re gonna do is try to get some food ta feed the rest of the human army.”

“But Bon-Bon said that they were supposed to be psycho omnivores,” Sweetie Belle pointed out. “You know, horrible monsters who eat other animals even though they don’t have to? What’s going to stop them from snagging somepony’s pet? Or... or maybe even a pony!”

The earth pony swallowed hard as she considered this possibility. “Er, well, nuthin’, I guess. But ain’t they supposed to be crazy smart, too? Why would they waste time chasin’ an animal when they could get an apple that won’t run away?”

“That’s a really good point, actually,” Scootaloo said. “Plus, it’ll be easier to hide our traps in all these trees.”

“Wouldn’t the fog hide them anyway?” Sweetie Belle asked, clearly unhappy that her own idea was being shot down.

“Actually, I was talking about hiding our traps from other ponies,” Scootaloo said. “I, uh, don’t think they’ll react very well to them.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, I kind of mentioned the humans to my dad, and he says that if I don’t forget that nonsense, I’m not allowed to go to Bon-Bon’s anymore.”

“Really?” Apple Bloom asked. That seemed like an awfully extreme reaction for wanting to protect your hometown from invaders. “Why’d ya even mention that ya heard it from her in the first place?”

“That’s just it: I didn’t. He just guessed that we’d heard it from her right off the bat. Something tells me that the other grownups don’t take her very seriously.”

“But still, why would that be a reason to keep you from going to Bon-Bon’s?” Sweetie Belle asked. “I mean, we just asked her a question, and she answered it. Miss Cheerilee says foals our age are supposed to be inquisitive.”

“What’s ‘inquisitive’ mean?”

“You’d know if you’d done your—”

“Anyway,” Scootaloo interjected, narrowly avoiding another lecture about the importance of That-Which-Must-Not-Be-Named, “I don’t think it was just that I was interested in humans. Um, you see, I kinda asked for his opinion on the human trap I designed.”

“You managed ta design a human trap before gettin’ here?” Apple Bloom asked.

Scootaloo grinned as she unfolded a large piece of white construction paper filled with an elaborate, if somewhat crudely drawn, pencil sketch. “Well? What do you think?”

It took her friends several minutes to fully process the plans laid out before them. Eventually, Sweetie Belle broke the silence. “Um, it looks really... uh...”

“Complicated,” Apple Bloom finished for her friend.

“Thanks,” Scootaloo said with a broad smile. “I was worried that I hadn’t done enough thinking about it.”

“Uh, I don’t think there was any danger of that,” Sweetie Belle said. “Are we supposed to get all of these things?”

“Well, yeah. Why? Is that going to be a problem?”

“It might be,” Apple Bloom answered. “I mean, how the hay are we gonna get a water tower out here?”

“Oh, you can ignore that part. I didn’t know we’d be building this at Sweet Apple Acres.”

“Does this part really need to use one of those mirror disco balls?” asked Sweetie Belle.

“Higher visibility,” the pegasus replied confidently.

Apple Bloom nodded, clearly seeing the wisdom in this decision. “So, how much bubble-wrap do ya reckon we’re gonna need, anyway?”

“Eh, as much as we can find, probably. And you don’t need to worry about the thingamabob. My mom taught me how to make them a long time ago. They’re a snap.”

“Thingamabob? There’s a thingamabob on here?” the earth pony asked as she scanned the plans.

“Yeah, it’s right there,” Scootaloo answered, pointing to a creased section with her hoof.

“I wouldn’t exactly call that a thingamabob myself,” Apple Bloom said after reexamining the picture. “Looks more like a whatchamacallit to me, or maybe a doodad. Maybe if I’m bein’ generous, I’d call it a thingamajig, but not a thingamabob.”

“My mother called it a thingamabob, so that means it’s a thingamabob. Or are you calling my mom a liar?”

Sweetie Belle, meanwhile, wasn’t really interested in listening to such riveting semantic debates. “Wouldn’t it be easier to just dig a pit and cover it with branches?”

“Uh, I guess... but that is nowhere near as cool as my idea. Besides, anypony can dig a pit, so how is that supposed to help us get us our cutie marks?”

“She’s got a point,” Apple Bloom said.

“No, she doesn’t,” Sweetie Belle replied. “There’s no way we’ll be able to build more than one of these before the fog gets here.”

“We only need to trap one human,” Scootaloo said. “Then we can pump it for more information. Then we send a letter to Celestia to warn her about their evil plans, and presto! We’re heroes!”

“Besides,” Apple Bloom added, “what wouldja rather be doin’ for the next day or so? Diggin’ pits? Or puttin’ together this awesome trap?”

Sweetie Belle sighed. “Digging pits does sound pretty boring, I guess.”

“Great!” Scootaloo shouted with obvious glee. “Then let’s get cracking!”

August 31 – 12:33 PM

Apple Bloom coughed as she carefully trod along the rafters of the family barn. Given that it had only recently been rebuilt, she hadn’t expected it to have already gathered this much dust and debris. Then again, farming was, by definition, a dirty occupation, and all the rummaging around she’d been doing probably hadn’t done her any favors, either. This had, unfortunately, been necessary, since this was the place where the Apples stored their ropes when they weren’t being used, and Scootaloo’s trap called for a lot of rope.

This particular job wouldn’t have been easy under normal circumstances, but Apple Bloom had discovered a problem with Scootaloo’s plan: namely, she didn’t specify how thick any of the ropes needed to be. And the Apple family, it turned out, had a rather large variety of cordage sizes available, from skinny lengths of twine for bundling packages to huge coils of rope that were as thick as one of the filly’s legs. Apple Bloom wasn’t sure where to begin, and in all likelihood, any attempt to get her family members’ advice would create more problems than it solved.

Apple Bloom hopped off of a rafter onto a storage area that had an actual floor. She could have simply climbed down the ladder she’d used to get up here, moved it to the other side of the barn, and climbed up again, but although this would have been much safer, it wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun. Besides, this took a lot less time. The yellow earth pony stared at the various options in front of her. She briefly entertained the idea of simply hauling all of it to the clubhouse, but if any of the other Apples actually needed rope in the next day or so, they’d probably get suspicious when they discovered that somepony had apparently broken into their barn and had only taken the rope, leaving behind much more valuable farm equipment. No, the filly needed to be selective. Of course, lacking adequate criteria with which to make her selection, she had to fall back on a tradition that had been passed down through countless generations of Apples. Why, there were some who claimed that it predated the founding of Equestria itself! Taking a deep breath, Apple Bloom extended a hoof towards the pile of ropes, and solemnly intoned: “One potato, two potato, three potato, four....”

August 31 – 12:35 PM

“...to permit special consideration of property with outstanding features, including, but not limited to, historical, architectural or social significance, unusual topography, landscape amenities, and other special land characteristics.” Mayor P. Diane Mare coughed several times before popping another throat lozenge into her mouth. She hadn’t particularly wanted to spend her entire morning reading aloud to herself in her office, but she couldn’t think of any other way to get through all the proposed changes to Ponyville’s zoning laws without nodding off. She was about to return to her inglorious task when she noticed that the clock on her wall said that it was past noon—time for lunch.

On most days, the Mayor ate her midday meal in her office, but she quickly rejected that idea: if she stayed in this room for much longer, she’d probably go stir-crazy. Instead, she decided that this was an ideal day to take her lunch outdoors, where she could greet her constituents. Granted, this inevitably meant that she’d have to respond to dozens of impromptu lobbying efforts, but unless the subject of building regulations came up, she couldn’t see how this wouldn’t constitute an improvement.

As Mayor Mare opened the door of the town hall, she took a deep breath of Ponyville’s fresh air... and was promptly bowled over by a rapidly bouncing pink blur. “Hello, Pinkie,” she said with a nearly-imperceptible sigh as she stood up. She had always liked Pinkie Pie, and not just because her sister had named the excitable pony after her, either. The pink earth pony had an exuberance about her that was rarely found on either side of her family; she was fun-loving, extroverted, and full of energy. In many ways, she reminded the Mayor of a younger version of herself, multiplied several times over and with a massive sweet tooth thrown in for good measure.

“Hiya, Auntie Diane! I’ve got something for you.” Pinkie rummaged around in her saddlebag for a few seconds before extracting a small package and presenting it to her aunt. “It’s from Mom.”

The Mayor gladly accepted this parcel, as she always enjoyed hearing from Rhubarbara. Given its weight, she presumed it contained an interesting-looking stone of some sort. “I didn’t know you had visited your parents, Pinkie Pie. You should have told me you were traveling north.”

“Well, I probably would have, but this was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing.”

“You mean, you just woke up a few days ago and decided that you wanted to see your family, so you bought a train ticket to rock farming country?”

“No, I flew there this morning using my flying machine.”

Even though Mayor Mare had never heard of this contraption’s existence before, that fact that her niece apparently owned one did not seem all that remarkable. She was Pinkie Pie, after all. “Well, I’m sure it was a pleasant surprise for them to see you.”

“Are you kidding? I was so lost that I was surprised to see them. The fog is way thicker than it looks on the outside.”

This piece of information caught the Mayor off-guard. “Fog?”

“Yeah, you know, the humongo-ginormous fog bank on the other side of the Unicorn Range that’s threatening the safety of everypony in Ponyville?”

“Er... no. I don’t know it.”

“Oh. Well, there’s a humongo-ginormous fog bank on the other side of the Unicorn Range that’s threatening the safety of everypony in Ponyville, and Fluttershy asked me to have a look at it.”

“Fluttershy?!”

“Uh-huh. She’s the one who’s been put in charge of dealing with it. Anyway, when I went there, I learned that it’s not just really easy to get lost in it. It’s also really cold and wet and I started shivering really badly and Twilight says if my Daddy hadn’t found me I might have gotten hypochondria!” From the tone of Pinkie Pie’s voice, one might think she was describing her plans for an upcoming party.

Mayor Mare, on the other hoof, was staring at her niece with her mouth hanging open. “Er... are you sure you don’t mean ‘hypothermia’?”

“That’s the one. Twilight says that if I’d been out there too long, I might have kicked the bucket, but Daddy used the Sense to find me. Wasn’t that lucky?”

“That’s... one way to put it.” The Mayor’s eyes lowered into a squint as she finished processing what she’d just learned. Two facts stood out to her. The more obvious one was that her niece had gotten into serious trouble on what seemed to be an impulse (though whether that impulse came from Pinkie or somepony else wasn’t particularly clear yet). Rhubarb was no doubt incensed that her daughter had been permitted to put herself into such danger—at least, not without a direct order from Princess Celestia—and the fact that she might have ended up in a hospital (or worse) were it not for her husband’s bizarre superstitions wouldn’t make it any easier to accept. If her past reactions to some of Pinkie Pie’s adventures was any indication, Rhubarb was probably planning on unleashing a tirade at her sister, just because she happened to be the most convenient authority figure. Mayor Mare suddenly became very wary of the stone she’d been given, and made a mental note to have Zecora scan it for curses the next time she came into town.

Second, and more importantly, the citizens of Ponyville were apparently in danger, and nopony had bothered to tell her. Given that looking out for the welfare of her town’s inhabitants was pretty much the entirety of the Mayor’s job description, it seemed that immediate action was called for. “Pinkie Pie, you said Fluttershy’s been put in charge of dealing with this fog business?”

“That’s right.... Oh! That reminds me: I need to get back to the library so I can help Fluttershy make plans to deal with it.”

“I think I’d better go with you,” the Mayor replied darkly. “There are some things I need to discuss with her.”

August 31 – 12:56 PM

Somehow, the fog bank beneath Pencil Pusher had gotten even thicker since the last time he’d flown over it... though given that this was the first time he’d seen it in the full light of day, it was quite possible that he was just imagining things, thanks to the muggy summer heat. The midday sun was pounding down on him, making him sweat profusely. He was starting to wish that he’d bought one of those overpriced bottles of water that vendors sold on the streets of Cloudsdale, but it was too late to head back—unless he wanted to miss his meeting with Fluttershy. And after all he’d been through that morning, there was no way he was going to do that.

Thus, to take his mind off the two hours of flying that still lay ahead of him, Pencil Pusher contemplated how he’d approach his second meeting with his prospective significant other. “Greetings, Ms. Fluttershy. The Department of Weather sent me here to discuss your plans for dealing with the fog.” No, too impersonal. If I do it like that, she might not notice that we’ve already met. Hmm....

“Hello, Fluttershy. It’s me, Pencil Pusher! You know, from this morning? I wanted to help you out, so I volunteered to come back.” Ugh, I sound like a desperate teenager. The bureaucrat had put those years behind him; these days, he was a desperate full-grown stallion.

“Hello again, Miss Fluttershy.” What am I, a Con Mane villain?

“Hey, what’s shakin’ baby?” Yeah, right. That’s a sexual harassment lawsuit waiting to happen.

Pencil Pusher’s thoughts were interrupted by a stray gust of wind which nearly caused him to lose the steady wingbeat that he’d managed to keep going for nearly an hour. By the time his mind was free to speculate about his co-worker, he was considering a different tactic altogether. I should probably wait until after the meeting for any small talk. If she thinks I’m trying to take advantage of an emergency so I can hit on her, she might think I’m callous. This was of particular concern to the bureaucrat, as that was precisely what he was attempting to do.

Let me think... a compliment! If I compliment her plan, it’ll show that I respect her mind. Mares seemed to think that was important, especially the pretty ones. At least, he assumed so. “You know, Fluttershy, that’s a really sensible idea. It’s clear that we’re all in good hooves.” Blecch. I sound like one of Greg’s yes-ponies. Maybe compliments aren’t the best way to handle this... encouragement, perhaps?

“I really admire your leadership skills, Fluttershy. You’re a classic example of what they call ‘grace under pressure.’” Ooh, I like that one. It sounds like I’m interested because of how impressive she is. And it’s got to be true: after all, she was a famous supermodel, and ‘grace under pressure’ is what those ponies do best, right?

August 31 – 1:03 PM

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry...”

Applejack stared at the tableau before her, trying to figure out what was going on. She had sold out her stock at the market fairly early, no doubt due to the vaguely-explained fog causing the preppers to be even more paranoid than usual, and had decided to stop by the library on the way home to see how Fluttershy was doing. The first thing she noticed was that Twilight Sparkle had apparently given up her efforts to keep her door from being slammed, and had decided to prop it open with a complete four-volume copy of Chancellor Puddinghead’s autobiography, which was famed (at least among scholars) for being both exhaustively detailed and so riddled with grammatical errors and misspellings as to be nearly incomprehensible without Smart Cookie’s annotations.*

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry...”

Next, she noticed that Fluttershy was groveling at the hooves of a very uneasy-looking Mayor Mare, as the four other Elements of Harmony looked on with equal unease. “Uh, that’s... that’s alright, Fluttershy,” the older mare said. “After all, everypony makes mistakes.”

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry...”

Turning her attention from this spectacle, Applejack glanced off to the side and saw Sweetie Belle, who, despite her efforts to hide her face behind a book on the history of siege engines, was obviously as engrossed with the situation as everypony else. Figuring it would be impolite to simply barge into an obviously tense moment without knowing what was going on, the farmer walked over to the unicorn filly and quietly greeted her. “Uh, hey there, Sweetie Belle.”

Sweetie Belle seemed a bit startled, but regained her composure rather quickly. “Oh, hi, Applejack.”

“You got any idea what’s goin’ on?”

“Kind of... Rarity and I came here maybe half an hour ago. I wanted to check out a book, and Rarity had a poofy necktie thingy for Fluttershy, only she doesn’t like it when you call it a necktie.”

Applejack looked over to where the yellow pegasus was still continuing her profuse apologies and noticed that she was indeed wearing a cravat similar in style to the Mayor’s, only hers was burgundy as opposed to green. “Right... and the Mayor?”

“She came in here with Pinkie Pie soon after that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look angry before. She chewed out Fluttershy for not telling her about the fog, and Fluttershy got really defensive at first, but then she just sort of broke down all of a sudden and started apologizing.”

“Okay, and this was, what, thirty minutes ago?”

“Uh-huh.”

“So... what’s she apologizing for now?”

“Oh, this is still her first apology, basically. I mean, she took a ten minute break to eat lunch in the middle, but then she went right back to apologizing. Everypony else has been trying to get her to snap out of it.”

“Is that so?” The farmer strolled up to the still-prostrate mare, and, ignoring the surprised looks of her friends, shouted, “Dragon!”

It took several more minutes of cajoling to get Fluttershy to emerge from beneath Twilight Sparkle’s bed. Once she was back in the main room, she turned once again to Mayor Mare. “I’m sorry—”

“No!” shouted everypony else in unison.

“...about taking up so much time with all that, um, apologizing,” Fluttershy finished. “It’s just that when you started shouting...”

“I was shouting?” the Mayor asked, clearly confused. “I thought it was simply a firm tone of voice.”

“That’s because that’s precisely what it was,” Rarity explained. “But I don’t think the poor dear has as much experience in the fine art of forceful solemnity as you do.”

“Is that what it’s called?” Pinkie Pie asked. “I always called it ‘talking like Mom.’”

“Um, of course,” Fluttershy said, despite the fact she wasn’t quite sure what Pinkie was talking about. “But I really am sorry about not telling you, Miss Mayor. It sort of slipped my mind.”

The Mayor sighed. “As I said, I understand that everypony makes mistakes. But there’s no need for you to grovel; it’s unbecoming of your cravat.”

Fluttershy raised a hoof to the neckwear in question. “Oh, right. I’m s... uh, I mean, I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

“Well, now that we’re all here,” Twilight Sparkle said, “perhaps we should start brainstorming some possible solutions.”

“An excellent suggestion,” Rarity said. “What say you, Fluttershy?”

“That, um, sounds like a good idea. We’ve only got about two hours to come up with something. Uh, would you like to stay, and, um, contribute some, er, input?” she asked the Mayor.

“I should think that I can reorganize my schedule for that,” the official said with a smirk. Given that her other option was to go return to poring over zoning regulations, this wasn’t a particularly difficult choice.

“Right,” said Rainbow Dash, who didn’t recognize that this statement was supposed to be humorous. “Time to get this think tank moving.”

As the adults began discussing ideas, Sweetie Belle sensed that the library was about to get way less interesting. She informed her sister that she’d be walking home on her own, and placed her book in her saddlebag, and headed towards the open door. As she exited, she heard Pinkie Pie’s voice call out behind her: “Good luck swapping the engine in your siege!”

* Contemporaneous sources claimed that forcing ponies to read the autobiography without the annotations was once used as a particularly effective form of psychological torture. Though many historians dismissed this as hyperbole, others pointed out that Celestia herself had banned the practice 700 years previously.

Author's Note

That's right, in addition to the pretend note, this chapter has some real ones.

The zoning regulations that Mayor Mare reads out loud are copied and pasted verbatim from those of Marion County, Indiana. Why Marion County? Because when I googled zoning laws, this was the first result that made it easy to find the actual laws in question.

As for the bit about Chancellor Puddinghead's autobiography, that's partly inspired by my experiences editing some handwritten letters of George Bernard Shaw while earning my MA in English. Obviously, Shaw's grammar and spelling were impeccable. His handwriting, however, was absolutely terrible, and it was quite difficult to make any sense of the letters at first.

August 31 – 2:58 PM

Pencil Pusher didn’t “land” in front of the Golden Oaks Library as much as he “collapsed at a relatively high speed” into the bushes near the front door. With the exception of his two-hour nap that morning, he’d been awake for a day and a half now, and after his second flight to Ponyville, his coordination was starting to suffer. “Ow...” the grey stallion muttered to himself as he stood up. Not only was he tired and sweaty, he was now covered in scratches and had little bits of twigs and leaves sticking out from odd places in his mane. It wasn’t exactly an ideal appearance for the all-important second impression, but at least the various forms and paperwork he’d brought along were still safely tucked away inside his saddlebag.

The bureaucrat might have taken the time to make himself look more presentable, were it not for the sudden intrusion of a mare’s voice on his thoughts. “Excuse me, but are you okay?” Pencil Pusher turned around and saw a purple unicorn standing outside of the library’s open door with a look of concern on her face.

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine,” he replied, stifling a yawn. “Is Fluttershy here? I was told that she’d made the library her headquarters for the fog response.”

“Oh... you must be from the Department of Weather. Yes, she’s here. Come in.”

Pencil Pusher took a deep breath as he followed the mare inside. He was calm. He’d practiced what he was going to say, going over every possibility he could think of until he’d determined the perfect way to reintroduce himself. All that was left was the delivery...

“Oh, Pencil Pusher! I didn’t expect to see you again.”

...which he promptly bungled when Fluttershy did the one thing he hadn’t counted on: remembering his name. “Oh, ah, well... yes, I... er, thought it would be good for you to maintain continuity as far as your liaison with the main office in Cloudsdale.” Gah! Smooth moves, Losinova. You spend three hours practicing what you’ll say, and you end up tossing out an unintelligible blob of bureaucratic mumbo-jumbo.

“Oh,” the yellow pegasus replied. “Well, that was quite thoughtful of you. Um, is there a particular reason that you’re standing in the doorway?”

Pencil Pusher blushed as he skittered inside. “Sorry about that.” When the awkward silence that followed continued to persist after five seconds, the bureaucrat decided to force a change of topic. “Well, as long as I’m here, you might as well introduce the rest of your team.” He wasn’t particularly surprised to see the Mayor of Ponyville or the head of Ponyville’s weather team, but he had a decidedly more difficult time grasping the reason for the presence of the four other ponies—especially since none of them had wings.

“Uh, we’re the Elements of Harmony,” Rainbow Dash explained as if it that fact were blatantly obvious. “We always help each other out when there’s a problem.”

“Oh... that makes sense, I guess,” Pencil Pusher replied, “but how did you all get here so quickly?”

None of the Element-Bearers seemed to understand the question. “Uh, beggin’ yer pardon, but why wouldn’t we get here quickly?” Applejack asked. “We all live here.”

“Huh? Oh! Right, that makes sense. Of course the Princesses would want you all to move to the same town. Strategic deployment, or something like that, right?”

“Actually,” the white unicorn, named Rarity, answered, “five of us had been living here for quite some time when we were initially called to service, and Twilight moved here soon afterwards.”

“You’re... you’re serious? Celestia decided to choose five ponies from the same small town?”

“Oh, we weren’t chosen by Celestia,” Pinkie Pie said. “We were always the Element-Bearers, even before anypony knew about it.”

I really have to pay more attention to the news, the bureaucrat thought to himself. “Er, right. Anyway, besides your usual job of saving Equestria from evildoers, do you have any other qualifications that might be pertinent?”

“Well, I’m Princess Celestia’s personal protégé,” Twilight said. “Also, Rainbow Dash hired me as a consultant for last year’s Tornado Day.”

Pencil Pusher wasn’t quite sure what to make of the bit about being Celestia’s student, but independent contractors were more in line with what he was used to dealing with. He pulled out a lined pad of yellow paper and began scratching notes on it with a ballpoint pen. “Consultant, got it. How about the rest of you?”

“Ooh!” Pinkie Pie shouted, raising a hoof into the air. “Me! Pick me!”

Feeling a little silly, the stallion pointed at the excitable mare. “Uh, yes?”

“I’m the pony who discovered that the fog is super-duper dangerous for earth ponies and unicorns!”

“You did? How?”

“By walking into it and getting lost and also getting mild hypochondria.”

“Hypothermia, darling,” Rarity corrected.

“Right, hypothalamus.”

“I see, so, you’re a paid consultant as well,” Pencil Pusher said, making another note on his legal pad.

“Oh, no,” Pinkie Pie replied. “I’m just a volunteer.”

There was a clatter as the bureaucrat’s pen fell from his grip and hit the library’s wooden floor. “You... you volunteered to go into potentially hazardous conditions? And you’ve never been on the Department of Weather’s payroll?”

“No. Why? Is that a problem?”

Pencil Pusher briefly considered brushing this question off, but then he realized that he had an opportunity to bring up the subject of his own volunteerism without sounding like a pious blowhard. “Well, the Department’s procedures require that every pony working for it sign a liability waiver, but that doesn’t cover outside volunteers. As a result, there’s an unofficial rule that you have to be on the Department’s payroll to volunteer your time, because then there isn’t much extra paperwork to fill out.” Most of the other ponies in the room looked either confused or bored, which was just as well, as it gave the stallion the chance to segue into the part that he really wanted Fluttershy to hear.

“For example, before I flew out here, I just signed some boilerplate that we keep on file, and thus, none of my coworkers back in Cloudsdale will be complaining anytime soon. On the other hoof, the forms for processing outside volunteers can be... well... complicated. But there’s no need for you to worry about that!” the bureaucrat added hastily. “I can take care of that. It’s just a few extra minutes of work, that’s all. Anyway, how about you two?” he asked Applejack and Rarity.

“Er, well, I’m a local apple farmer...”

“...and I am an up-and-coming fashionista.”

Pencil Pusher looked downcast upon hearing this. “I suppose it’d be too much to hope that you have previous Department of Weather experience.”

“Sorry,” Applejack said.

The stallion sighed. “Never mind. We can deal with all of that later. Right now, I need the details about your plan.”

“Well,” Applejack drawled, “the basic idea can be summed up in four words: Kill. It. With. Fire.”

“Excuse me?”

Fluttershy began fidgeting as she explained the reasoning behind the plan. “Well, um, under normal circumstances, fog only appears when the level of humidity is high relative to the temperature. Obviously, this fog isn’t normal, but I don’t know how it isn’t normal yet, so for now, I’m assuming it’s just a really strong fog.”

“Actually,” Pencil Pusher said, “I’ve already taken the liberty of coming up with a solution to get you the information you need—but we can talk about that later.” The bureaucrat would have told the fog specialist more about the proposed arrangement with Caligo, were it not for the skeptical glare he was getting from Rainbow Dash.

“Anyway,” Fluttershy continued, “since warm air can hold more water vapor than cold air, if the fog runs into a large amount of hot, dry air, that might help it dissipate.”

“And... you’re going to do this by starting a fire?”

“No,” Rainbow Dash replied with a smirk, “we’re going to start a whole bunch of fires.”

Twilight Sparkle nodded. “Based on the most recent available data concerning the fog’s size and movement as well as the local topography, a series of strategically placed bonfires north of the Unicorn Range should cause the fog to start dispersing, or at the very least, slow it down.”

“We’re calling it ‘Operation: Heatstroke,’ because that’s pretty much the opposite of hypodermic,” Pinkie Pie explained. “I came up with the name!”

“Oookaaay....” Pencil Pusher replied, mostly because he couldn’t come up with a more intelligent response. “So, I presume we’ll be able to use timber from that area for these bonfires?”

“Not exactly,” Applejack admitted. “That’s rock farmin’ country, and soil that makes for solid rocks doesn’t normally support plants all that well. They need every tree they can get.”

“So, how do you propose to pull this off?”

“There’s a donkey named Douglas Fir who lives on the southern side of the Unicorn Range,” Mayor Mare explained, “who harvests trees in the area to sell as firewood. I’m sure he’ll be willing to help us out once I’ve spoken with him. I know from past experience that he responds quite well to appeals to his civic duty, particularly when they’re combined with financial compensation.”

“Alright, but are you going to be able to get the fires lit in time? It’s going to take a while to get that firewood over the mountains.”

“You ain’t seen the ponies of Ponyville in action,” Applejack said. “Once I get the help of the local farmers, we’ll be able to haul that firewood without any problem. Fringe benefit of bein’ an earth pony, ya know.”

Pencil Pusher looked slightly pale. “Earth pony? Are all the farmers in the area earth ponies?”

“Most of ’em. Why?”

“Uh, how many ponies are we talking about here?”

“Eh, if I call in a few favors, I can probably get seventy, maybe eighty ponies.”

The bureaucrat looked like he’d been hit in the head with a cast-iron skillet. “I suppose it’s too much to hope that any of them have previous experience with the DOW....”

“Does requestin’ additional rainy days count?”

“Not really.” Great. Hello, fetlock-tunnel syndrome. Why did I ever agree to do this? An image flashed in the stallion’s mind of Fluttershy sitting by his side, leaning into his shoulder as the two watched one of Princess Celestia’s brilliant orange sunsets. Oh, right. “That doesn’t matter,” he said. “I—that is, we can deal with that later. So, then what happens, Fluttershy?”

The fog specialist, however, didn’t answer; it seemed like she’d been lost in thought ever since Pencil Pusher had initially brought up the subject of bureaucratic red tape. “Oh, um, sorry. I was just... thinking about some things. Um, where were we?”

“The earth ponies get the firewood over the mountains.”

“Oh, yes. Well, then the Ponyville weather team builds the bonfires and tends to them until the fog arrives.”

Pencil Pusher thought about this, and then nodded. “Well, that sounds like a plan.” Granted, he still wasn’t sure if it was a good plan, but she was the specialist, and he was the office drone. “So, when are you doing this? Tomorrow morning?”

“Actually, I’ve done all the pertinent calculations, and given the prevailing wind speeds, the optimal time to put this plan into action would be this evening, before eight o’clock,” Twilight Sparkle said.

“But... that’s only five hours away.”

“Actually, we’ll probably want to get the fires started well before the fog arrives in the area, so it’s really closer to four hours.”

“But how can you pull that off?”

Applejack laughed. “Like I said before, you ain’t seen us in action yet.”

“Okay, well, if you’re sure—”

“Wait!” Fluttershy suddenly cried out. “What about all the paperwork?”

“What do you mean, darling?” Rarity asked.

“Um, well, isn’t all the paperwork going to be a problem? Like, maybe the kind of problem that would make it difficult to go through with the plan the way we expected and that means that if anything goes wrong everypony will be too busy complaining about the bureaucracy to figure out what the real problem is?”

Parsing the soft-spoken pegasus’ run-on sentence wasn’t easy (particularly because Fluttershy’s voice almost sounded more hopeful than worried for some unfathomable reason), but eventually Pencil Pusher managed to make some sense of it. “What sort of problems are you worried about, exactly?”

“Um, well, what about all these new volunteers?”

“Oh, I’m sure that won’t be a problem.”

“But what if it is?”

The bureaucrat wasn’t sure why Fluttershy had suddenly decided to play Discord’s Advocate, but that was neither here nor there. C’mon, Pencil Pusher, he silently told himself, now’s your time to shine. He quietly ruminated for a few seconds before inspiration, egged on by physical attraction, hit him. “Actually, if the volunteers were all members of an established nonprofit group, there would only be one form to fill out—and it wouldn’t take much time at all.”

“Oh, is that all?” the Mayor asked. “Well, it shouldn’t be too much trouble to form a new organization.”

“But you won’t be able to get it officially registered as a nonprofit in four hours,” Pencil Pusher said. “Is there any preexisting group here in Ponyville that would be willing to take on new members?”

“I doubt that,” Rarity replied. “There seems to be something distasteful about allowing one’s organization to be used as a pawn in a bureaucratic game.”

This led to several more seconds of silence, during which it almost seemed like Fluttershy was about to break out into a smile—but that didn’t make much sense. Finally, however, Applejack spoke up. “Uh, well, it is kind of ‘out there,’ if y’all catch my drift, but it seems like SPHERE is always lookin’ for new members.”

“SPHERE?” Pinkie Pie asked. “Who’s SPHERE? Why haven’t I heard of them? Are they new in town? Did I miss my chance to give them a welcoming party?!” The earth pony looked horror-stricken at her last suggestion.

“Uh, no,” Applejack replied. “SPHERE is the Society for the Prevention of Human Exploitation in the Realm of Equestria.”

“What’s a human?” Pencil Pusher asked.

“It’s a mythical creature from parts unknown,” Twilight explained. “There are a few enthusiasts here in Ponyville.”

“Hang on,” Rainbow Dash said. “Are they trying to prevent humans from being exploited, or are they trying to prevent humans from exploiting Equestria?”

“I dunno, actually,” Applejack answered. “That seems to depend on whether it’s Lyra or Bon-Bon y’all are talkin’ to.” Lyra Heartstrings was a local musician, Bon-Bon’s best friend, and easily as enamored of humans as the candymaker was paranoid about them.

“Well, what about the other members?”

“Near as I can tell, they’re the only members.”

“And do you think somepony will be able to convince them to agree to this little scheme?” Rarity asked.

“Ooh! Ooh! I can do that!” Pinkie Pie shouted as she bounced in place repeatedly. This was met with unspoken agreement from everypony else in the room. Somehow, it just seemed like Pinkie Pie would be the perfect pony to convince a pair of amateur cryptozoologists to go along with such an idea.

“Well, that’s that,” Pencil Pusher said. “Now, I just need to fill out some preliminary forms, and then I can head back to Cloudsdale.”

“Oh, no you don’t,” Twilight Sparkle replied. “You’re in no condition to fly, if what’s left of my bushes are any indication. Given your bloodshot eyes, I’m guessing that you need to get some sleep.”

“But... I’ve got to...” the stallion didn’t finish his sentence, as he was interrupted by an inconvenient yawn.

“Yeah, you need some shut-eye,” Rainbow Dash concurred. “Tell you what: you fill out the forms for the other desk jockeys, and I’ll take it to Cloudsdale.”

“Um, actually, I need you to do something else,” Fluttershy said.

Rainbow Dash winced as she tried to ignore the horrible feeling of déjà vu that welled up in the dark recesses of her mind. No, she’s the fog specialist. You need to trust her judgment. “Oh. That’s... okay, I guess. I’ll have one of my team members handle that. What should I do instead?”

“I, um, need you to oversee the actual bonfires, if you don’t mind.”

“What? You aren’t going to do it?”

“I can’t fly fast enough to cover the area effectively, and you have speed and leadership skills to make quick decisions while things are unfolding.”

The blue pegasus chuckled amicably at her friend’s praise. “Yeah, I guess I do, don’t I? Okay, Fluttershy. I’m your mare.”

“Oh, that’s good. You and Rarity can go back to her shop and get ready, then.”

“Huh? What are we doing at her boutique?”

“Well, darling,” the fashionista answered, “you’ll be needing a fog suit.”

“I’ve got a fog suit at home.”

“But Fluttershy informs me that a standard suit adds far too much extra weight and air resistance for you to do your job effectively. Thus, you’ll be needing a customized fog suit with an extra-snug fit.”

“Oh. Well, you have my sizes, right? I’ll pick it up once I’m ready.”

“Actually, that won’t work. You see, Fluttershy gave me the fabric, as well as the basic outline of the suit, and there’s not enough give to allow you to simply put it on and take it off at will.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I’ll have to sew the fog suit around your body directly, and when you want to take it off, you’ll need to use scissors. I suggest you make sure you’ve used the little mare’s room before we begin.”

Rainbow Dash sighed. “Fine. I’m willing to do whatever’s necessary.”

“Oh, I’m oh so glad to hear you say that, darling,” Rarity replied. “You see, the suit also covers your legs in their entirety, which means that you’re going to have to let me touch your hooves.”

The pegasus shuddered, but soon regained her composure. “Okay... let’s just get it over with.”

“Um, so, does everypony know what they’re going to do?” Fluttershy asked as she tugged nervously on her cravat. Upon receiving a nods all around, the fog specialist continued. “Then I suppose we should get started. I’ll be going with the Mayor to speak with Mr. Fir. Everypony who’s involved should meet there before... five, I suppose.”

As the ponies began to disperse to attend to their responsibilities, Pencil Pusher pulled a sheaf of forms from his saddlebag and started filling them out. He soon paused, though, when he heard the sound of a mare clearing her throat. The stallion looked up and saw Rainbow Dash looking at him with suspicion evident in her eyes. “Um, aren't you going to go with that designer friend of yours?”

“Rarity needs some time to get set up, and in any case, I need to talk to you.”

Pencil Pusher swallowed hard and ran a hoof through his still-unkempt mane. “R-Really? What about?”

“Don’t play innocent with me. You’re way too eager to help for a normal bureaucrat.”

“Well, maybe I’m exceptional.”

“If you were exceptional, you’d be in management. Let me guess: you figured out that Fluttershy’s single, and you thought this might be your chance to get a date with a supermodel.”

So she really is single, the stallion thought to himself before shifting his attention back to the conversation. “Uh, come on, now, Ms. Dash. There’s no reason to be, um, cynical.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining. Fluttershy could probably use a special somepony. If you can actually do that for her, I’m all for it.”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

This was going better than expected! Pencil Pusher now had the support of one of Fluttershy’s closest friends. He could almost hear the wedding bells ringing... until they were interrupted by Rainbow Dash’s voice.

“However, if you hurt her, you’re going to find out what it feels like to get blindsided by a Sonic Rainboom. Capisce?”

Pencil Pusher nodded apprehensively.

“Good,” the blue pegasus said cheerfully. “I’d better let you get back to work, then. Good luck!”

“Thanks,” the bureaucrat squeaked as his interrogator’s multicolored tail slipped out the library door, “I think....”

August 31 – 3:19 PM

The Society for the Prevention of Human Exploitation in the Realm of Equestria normally met on the first Saturday of each month, but the club’s charter gave its president the right to call emergency meetings whenever she deemed it necessary. Before today, Bon-Bon had never had to invoke her executive powers, mostly because she usually spent time with SPHERE’s chairpony (and only other member) every day. Fortunately, the candymaker found Lyra Heartstrings already at the club’s meetingplace, though this wasn’t particularly surprising, as the meetings were normally held at Lyra’s apartment. As this was an emergency meeting, the normal formalities could be dispensed with, and Bon-Bon had started right in with the grave news: the humans were coming.

Lyra’s response, however, had been less than encouraging. Bon-Bon had expected that her friend’s unfortunate delusions about the innate goodness of humans would result in a protracted argument, but she hadn’t predicted that it would first elicit several minutes of high-pitched fillyish squees. “They’re here! They’re here! They’re finally here!”

“Yes,” Bon-Bon replied, in her most reasonable tone of voice, “and if you’ll calm down for a second, we can hide in my bunker until they leave.”

This, apparently, was enough to wrench the chairpony’s attention away from the pure, unadulterated wonderfulness of humanity. “Your bunker? Why would I want to go there?”

“I don’t know—maybe you’ll want to escape from the inevitable mayhem and devastation that those overambitious chimpanzees are going to wreak throughout Equestria? I mean, come on, this fog business is irrefutable proof that I was right about those monsters. Why would they use it unless they had something to hide?”

“Like what?”

“Like an arsenal of tactical weaponry. The fog will give them perfect cover to set up their weapons of mass destruction.”

“Or,” Lyra countered, “maybe they’re just shy.”

Bon-Bon, however, found this explanation less than satisfying. “Shy? If they were shy, why would they even come out of hiding?”

“Uh, well, maybe they’re getting lonely.”

“Okay, that sounds even worse than my theories.”

“I didn’t mean that kind of lonely!” Lyra retorted, her cheeks glowing red as the innuendo sunk in.

“Maybe you should have. After all, if they’re willing to do it metaphorically, why not literally?”

The unicorn was getting tired of hearing her beloved humans being so maliciously slandered. “Well, if you treat them like that, of course they’ll be hostile.”

“Oh, really? So what do you suggest, organizing a picnic?”

“Hey! That’s a great idea! I’m glad you’re finally starting to see things my way.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

Lyra, however, didn’t seem to be listening to her friend anymore. “Let’s see... we’re going to need a lot of food, obviously. If they’ve been traveling for a while they might be really hungry. Oh, and we’ll need picnic blankets and plates and cups for drinks... do you think they should be bigger, since humans are bigger than we are?”

“Why in Celestia’s name would they want to have a picnic when they could just take all our food?”

“Oh, that’s right... they might be too scared to take food from ponies they’ve just met. I should have t-shirts made to let them know we’re friendly. Hmm... does Silkscreen give a discount for bulk rates?”

“Great idea, Lyra. That’ll make it really easy for them to identify the gullible saps that they can use as slaves and/or hostages. Reality check—these things have deployed a fog so dangerous that the Department of Weather had to bring in a specialist. Now is not the time to talk about t-shirts; now is the time for magically reinforced suits of armor.”

“There’s no reason to assume that they mean to hurt anypony. Not on purpose, at least. Besides, think of all the wisdom they can share with us.”

“I’d much rather think of ways to avoid being killed by their pocket cannons.”

The musician sniffed indignantly. “Now you’re just being cynical. Perhaps you should listen to Twilight Sparkle the next time she talks about the ‘magic of friendship.’”

Bon-Bon groaned. “Lyra, even if the humans are friendly, which they won’t be, the fog is almost at Ponyville already. There’s no way to make all those preparations you’re talking about in time, unless you seriously think that several dozen new members are going to spontaneously appear in the next few hours.”

Lyra was about to respond, but there was a sudden knock at her door. The unicorn opened it to see Pinkie Pie fidgeting with more hyperactivity than usual. “Hi! Is this the meeting place for SPHERE?”

“Um... yes...”

“Oh, good! Say, would you guys be interested in getting several dozen new members in the next few hours?”

August 31 – 3:31 PM

The woods were lovely, dark and deep, but she had promises to keep, and running away would be indiscreet. After all, Mayor Mare was walking right beside Fluttershy and could witness everything she did, which meant that any attempt to weasel out of the situation might result in an accusation of neglecting her duties, and that would lead to even bigger problems. Thus, she had little choice but to continue on to the home of Douglas Fir, the proprietor of the most convenient firewood business in the Ponyville area. The pegasus supposed that she could be thankful that she had something else to occupy her mind while she made the journey, but as that something else was a stream of helpful tips on the art of persuasion from the Mayor, its value was somewhat dubious.

“Now remember, it’s important that you speak clearly and deliberately. Not only is it a hallmark of good communication, it emphasizes your status as an authority figure. That said, you must keep in mind that ‘clearly and deliberately’ does not mean the same thing as ‘loudly and slowly.’ That is generally interpreted as condescension, and will more than likely produce hostility. Are you with me so far?”

“Um, I think so, Miss Mayor.” Fluttershy knew that that the older mare was only trying to encourage her, but her helpful hints were having the opposite effect. Playing the role of an authority figure had been bad enough before, but now she had to do so while under the scrutiny of an actual authority figure who was not only qualified for her position, but had earned it in a free and fair election. If Fluttershy messed up here... well, it actually wouldn’t be all that suspicious, given her reputation for wilting nervousness, but it certainly wouldn’t help.

The Mayor seemed to notice her companion’s anxiety. “Ears up, dear.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your ears are flattened. It makes you look worried.”

“But I am worried.”

“All the more reason to keep your ears up and pointing forward. Ponies subconsciously associate that with confidence. It’s a very simple technique—most politicians use it from time to time. No matter what your facial expression is, if your ears are up, you’ll come off as being self-assured.”

“Even if I’m feeling so worried that my stomach’s in knots?”

“Not ‘worried,’ Fluttershy. When your ears are up, your worry is transformed into a grave concern. Here, I’ll show you.” Mayor Mare’s usual sanguine expression melted away, replaced by a look of pure anxiety: squinting eyes, tightly shut mouth, wrinkled brow, and flattened ears. “Now, observe the change when I shift my ear position.” The Mayor raised her ears, and though she still looked seriously concerned, she no longer appeared to be panicking. Instead, it was as though she was silently formulating a plan to deal with the hypothetical situation.

The pegasus was amazed. “Wow... is it really that easy?”

“Well, if you do it all the time, it starts to look fake, but if you reserve it for when it’s needed the most, it does wonders. Really, I’m surprised you didn’t know this already; I’ve heard that models use similar techniques.”

Fluttershy wasn’t certain how to respond to this, mostly because she didn’t really like to talk about her brief stint in the fashion industry. Fortunately, the conversation was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a log cabin, which had apparently jumped out from behind a grove of trees when neither mare had been looking. A roughly carved wooden sign by the door read “Fir’s Firewood.”

“Um, I guess this is the place,” Fluttershy said, stating the obvious in an attempt to fill the silence.

“Well, don’t just stand there,” Mayor Mare said. “Mr. Fir doesn’t know we’re here, so you’ll have to knock.”

The fog specialist haltingly complied and rapped one of her forehooves on the door several times.

“Now, remember what I said. Clear and deliberate, ears up, and don’t fidget with your cravat.”

“But... you never said anything about that.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you shouldn’t fidget with your cravat. You’ll look like a filly playing dress-up instead of an adult.”

The conversation ended here; it would not do for the cabin’s occupant to see two mares making small talk when he opened his door. However, as seconds went by with no apparent change, Fluttershy somehow managed to feel even more agitated than before. She was about to wonder aloud whether Mr. Fir was home, when the door opened, revealing a gaunt, greyish-brown donkey with placidly neutral expression on his face. “Can I help you?”

Fluttershy raised her ears, looked the donkey in the eye, and, as authoritatively as she could, said, “EEEeeeeeeeeeeee.....” She followed this up by confidently collapsing onto the ground, leaving the politician and the firewood salesdonkey looking very confused indeed.

August 31 – 3:38 PM

It took a while before Pinkie got around to making her proposal, mostly because Bon-Bon was reluctant to accept “comic timing” as an answer for how Pinkie had managed to “do that.” Even then, the members of SPHERE didn’t seem ready to jump at the opportunity to increase their ranks.

“You really expect us to do this to help you get around some bureaucratic hurdle?” Bon-Bon asks.

“Aw, c’mon, it’s for the good of Ponyville.”

“It’s not that we don’t want to help out, Pinkie Pie,” Lyra said. “It’s just that, well, we’d prefer it if ponies joined us because they actually cared about our cause.”

“Huh? Oh, right. Human exposition.”

“Exploitation,” Bon-Bon corrected. “Our goal is to make sure that those monsters don’t despoil our country—”

“—assuming that they’re hostile,” Lyra interrupted with a glare. “In the infinitely more likely chance that they’re gentle, peaceful beings who aren’t aggressive unless they’re provoked, we intend to keep unscrupulous ponies from exploiting the docility of these majestic creatures.”

“But why wouldn’t other ponies care about that?” Pinkie Pie asked.

Lyra sighed. “This may come a surprise to you, but we’re perfectly aware that a lot of ponies think we’re completely off our rockers, just because we believe old stories happen to be true even though we don’t have a shred of hard evidence.”

“Wow... that is pretty silly.”

“Gee, thanks for rubbing it in,” Bon-Bon replied.

“Huh? Oh, no, I mean it’s silly to think that you two are weird for believing it. After all, Twilight Sparkle didn’t have much of a reason to believe that the Nightmare Moon story was true, but look where it got her.”

“Pinkie, the overwhelming majority of ponies are nothing like Twilight Sparkle, who, by the way, also thinks that we’re nutcases.” The candymaker snorted. “I’d rather not be made into an even bigger laughingstock once these ponies leave as soon as your project is finished.”

“Well, what if they Pinkie promised to stick around and actually listen to what you have to say?”

“You really think that’s going to work?” Bon-Bon asked, clearly skeptical.

“Of course! After all, I listened to you and I’m ready to join.”

“Really?” Lyra asked. “You believe that humans exist?”

“Um, not really,” Pinkie Pie responded, “but if they did exist, I wouldn’t want them to be exploited, and I wouldn’t want them to exploit Equestria either, so that must mean that I’m against human exploitation, right?”

Lyra glanced over at the club’s president. “Er, that is a lot better than what we usually get...”

Bon-Bon bit her lip and thought about this for a few seconds. “Would you be willing to help us search for evidence?”

“Sure! Where was the last place you saw it?”

Neither member of SPHERE seemed to comprehend this question. “What are you talking about?” Lyra finally asked.

“The evidence. Where was the last place you saw it? When I lose things, that’s usually a good place to start looking.”

“Uh, no, Pinkie,” Bon-Bon replied. “We didn’t lose the evidence; our problem is that we’ve never had it.”

“Oh... so it’s like one of those mystery things, right? Sure, I’ll help, assuming Twilight lets me have my detective hat back.”

“Then I don’t see why you can’t join,” Bon-Bon said, “unless the chairpony has any objections.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Hooray! We should have a party... um, after the fog’s gone, that is. We’re kind of on a tight schedule, and you’ve got a lot more new members to take in.”

“I still don’t see why you need so many ponies for this,” Lyra said. “Isn’t the weather team enough?”

“Not really. If the weather team had to haul all that wood over the Unicorn range, they’d be too tired to make the bonfires.”

“Bonfires? What bonfires?”

“Oh, that’s how we’re dealing with the fog. We’re going to make a bunch of bonfires to dry it out so it clears up, or something like that.”

“Clears up?” Lyra asked rhetorically. “But once the fog clears, then... then we can see the humans!” Her eyes brightened.

“Yeah!” Bon-Bon said with equal glee in her voice. “And then, when they’re out in the open, we can use the embers to burn them until they go away!”

“Or we can keep them warm during the picnic,” Lyra countered with a glare.

“How would setting the humans on fire not result in them staying warm?”

“Bon-Bon, if they’re as dangerous as you say they are, why provoke them?”

“It’s a preemptive strike!”

As the two ponies resumed their usual bickering, Pinkie Pie decided that now might be a good time to see how else she could help. “Um, okay, girls. Meet me near the forest north of town in about an hour, okay?”

“Sure thing, Pinkie Pie,” Lyra said before immediately returning her focus to a more pressing conversation. “Oh, yeah? Well, what happens if they’ve decided not to attack us unless they think we’re going to attack them?”

“All the more reason to attack first!”

Pinkie Pie gawked at this squabbling for a minute or two before slowly backing out of the door and quietly shutting it behind her.

August 31 – 5:07 PM

“Cross my heart and hope to fly; stick a cupcake in my eye,” recited the seventy-odd volunteers in an unenthusiastic drone. It wasn’t that they weren’t taking the act of making a Pinkie Promise seriously; rather, the overwhelming majority of them were not looking forward to holding up their end of this particular agreement. The fact that many of them had made the classic mistake of assuming that they needed to physically poke their eyeballs with their hooves didn’t help, either.

“Okie dokie lokie!” Pinkie Pie chirped to the crowd. “Welcome to SPHERE! There’s a meeting next Saturday, and we’ll be able to explain our goals more clearly then.”

“Super,” Rainbow Dash said. “Can I get going now? I need to get an up close look at that fog before I talk with the rest of the weather team.” The pegasus was feeling really self conscious about her reflective fog suit (for example, several of the more vain ponies had taken the opportunity to use her backside as a mirror), and the fact that Pinkie Pie had dragged her into joining SPHERE along with the rest of the Element-Bearers didn’t help matters much. Sure, she agreed with the principle—if the five of them stood with the pink earth pony, others would see that there was more to joining up with the weirdos than “Pinkie being Pinkie,” but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing.

Pinkie glanced over her shoulder at Fluttershy, who nodded silently. “Looks like you’re good to go, Dashie!”

“Cool,” Rainbow Dash replied, though her tone of voice made it sound almost sarcastic. She then shot into the air like a silver bullet towards the mountaintops, leaving the rest of her friends to handle the crowd of earth ponies (and a few unicorns) that Applejack had rounded up.

As soon as the weatherpony was out of sight, all eyes turned to the remaining pegasus, who looked as nervous as ever as she stood on Douglas Fir’s porch, which had been spontaneously repurposed as a makeshift dais. A stopgap platform for a stopgap expert, Fluttershy briefly thought to herself before banishing the thought from her mind. Thinking that way wouldn’t help her anymore. If she was going to get out of this mess, she had to press on.

“Um, thank you for coming...”

“What’s that?” came a voice from somewhere in the middle of the crowd.

The pegasus tried to raise her voice a bit. “Thank you all for coming on such short notice. I—”

“Speak up!” shouted another pony.

Fluttershy did her best to comply, but her attempt to increase her volume seemed to have the unfortunate side effect of causing her words to speed up: “Thank you for coming to help with the fog the Department of Weather is very grateful for your help and I’m-sure-everypony-else-in-Ponyville-will-be-glad-too andsoamIsothankyou!” The pegasus took several deep breaths before she opened her eyelids (which she only just now realized she’d been squeezing shut) and saw that her audience, although a little confused, seemed to appreciate her gratitude. “Um, Twilight?” she asked the unicorn standing next to her. “Would you mind giving the instructions for me?”

Twilight nodded and stepped forward. “Alright, everypony, I know that you haven’t had a chance to get a lot of information about this fog, so some of you may be worried about what’s ahead....”

As the librarian continued her explication, Rarity quietly sidled next to Equestria’s most skittish authority figure. “You’re doing splendidly, Fluttershy,” she said.

The pegasus didn’t seem to agree with the attempted encouragement. “How can I be doing well when I can’t even work up the nerve to tell other ponies what to do?”

The dressmaker smiled. “Dear, I don’t think your job requires public speaking. Your job is to make decisions, and to delegate the tasks that you can’t do yourself to other ponies who can. By that standard, I’d say you’re performing admirably at the moment.”

Fluttershy might have responded further, but Twilight Sparkle was nearing the end of her speech: “So, the unicorns will be levitating the firewood onto carts, and the earth ponies will be hauling them up the mountains along several well-established paths. Applejack has been placed in charge of directing the specifics of the transport operation, so if you have any further questions, just ask her. Is that clear?”

Upon receiving several nods and grunted affirmations, Twilight smiled. “Then let’s get to work!”

August 31 – 5:31 PM

There were many thoughts flowing through Rainbow Dash’s mind as she returned from her sortie at the fog bank, but two in particular stood out. First, either Pinkie Pie had been understating the severity of the fog, or it had somehow managed to get thicker and colder since this morning. Second, she probably shouldn’t have been so quick to dismiss Rarity’s suggestion that she cover her tail in the silver fabric, as even this had caused a large amount of drag as she flew through the magically-enhanced blob of water vapor. Any way you looked at it, her team would have their work cut out for them.

Speaking of whom, Rainbow Dash spotted the entire team, including all of the reservists, milling about the designated rendezvous point on the top of Mt. Barbaro. Some of them were no doubt grumbling over the fact that they had to meet on the ground rather than nice soft clouds, but Fluttershy had insisted that this area be as free of moisture as possible. The weatherpony landed and had her team gather around her.

“Alright, guys, listen up. I just got back from the fog bank, and I can tell you right now that it’s every bit as nasty as we’ve been told. Obviously, I don’t have the equipment for an exact reading, but I’d say it rates at least a 9.0 on the Pea Soup scale, easy.”

“You’re joking,” Cloudchaser said incredulously. “Fogs never get that dense outside of the Haysead Swamps!”

“Normal fogs don’t, but as I’ve repeatedly said all day, this fog is not normal,” Rainbow Dash replied seriously. “If we don’t get it under control, it might not just be the ponies in Ponyville that have to deal with it. I trust that I won’t have to explain why I insisted that everypony bring their fog suits along?”

This was answered with a round of indistinct groans as thirty or so fog suits were pulled out of the saddlebags where they’d been stashed. “Don’t worry,” Rainbow Dash said, “you don’t have to put them on until the fog actually gets here.” Regular fog suits were not known for being comfortable on warm summer days, and having to wear them while building and tending the bonfires central to Operation: Heatstroke might have resulted in some weatherponies coming down with actual heatstroke. “Now, all of the squad leaders still have those flint-and-steel kits I was passing out earlier, right?” Upon receiving several nods, Rainbow Dash smiled. “Great. So, are there any further questions before we get started?”

Several hooves went up into the air. Rainbow Dash pointed at the nearest one. “Yes, Thunderlane?”

“Uh, yeah, how are you supposed to go to the bathroom in that thing?”

“I’m not. I have to take it off to do that. Next question.”

“So, can you actually stand on a cloud while wearing that?” asked a reservist in the back.

“Um, no, I can’t, actually. It’s pretty much the opposite of a cloudwalking spell.”

“Does it come in any other colors?”

Rainbow Dash groaned. “Are there any questions that aren’t related to my fog suit?” A single hoof rose into the air. “Yes, Flitter?”

“Can Rarity make me one like yours?”

This was starting to get a little ridiculous. “I just said no more questions about the suit!” Rainbow Dash shouted.

Flitter seemed genuinely puzzled by this outburst. “But... that wasn’t a question about your suit. It was about the one I want her to make for me.”

Rainbow Dash sighed and briefly massaged one of her temples with her hoof. “Listen, I’ll be happy to explain that sort of thing after we’ve finished up here. Now, do any of you have questions that actually have something to do with your job?”

After several seconds of silence, the weatherpony smiled. “Good. Now, everypony get to your stations. The volunteers will be hauling up that firewood any minute now.”

August 31 – 5:35 PM

It took less than half an hour to get everypony into place. The stronger earth ponies were hitched up to carts, while the weaker ones stood by to relay messages and provide first aid, if necessary. The unicorns were standing in a clearing in Douglas Fir’s storeyard, ready to load up the carts with timber. Everything had been executed flawlessly—with one rather glaring exception.

“Uh, Fluttershy,” Applejack said as she strolled up to the fog specialist. “Don’t mean ta be a downer or nuthin’, but it seems like you might've forgotten somethin’.”

A look of utter horror washed over Fluttershy’s face. “Oh no oh no oh no!” The pegasus ground her teeth in panic as she tried to figure out how her house of cards was about to fall down. “I have ponies to load the firewood, deliver the firewood, build the fires, and to provide support for the ponies... the carts! We don’t have any wheelwrights or carpenters in case the carts break down! Oh, what am I going to do?”

“Uh, ya don’t need to worry about that. I’ve fixed a cart or two myself at Sweet Apple Acres. Actually, Sugarcube, I meant that there ain’t nopony to cut down the trees.”

Upon hearing this, the pegasus calmed down almost immediately. “Oh, thank goodness. I thought it was something serious.”

“How in tarnation is that not serious? I don’t know if you noticed, but it’s not easy to build a fire if ya ain’t got firewood.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I, um, asked for a little bit of help from some friends, and they got in touch with someone who could help out there.”

Applejack raised an eyebrow as she picked up on a nuance in her friend’s reply. “‘Someone?’ Not ‘somepony?’ Fluttershy, did ya get the help of some beavers to get those trees taken care of? Cuz that’s mighty clever of you.”

“Oh, my, no. Beavers take far too long to gnaw through trees. Instead, I’ve found someone with more, um, efficient methods.”

Applejack opened her mouth to ask for a further clarification, but she was interrupted by a sudden, screeching roar.

“Manticore!” Bon Bon shouted. “The humans have recruited manticores! Everypony panic!” Indeed, many ponies would have panicked were it not for the fact that this sounded much like every other rant the paranoid candymaker made about the mythical bipeds.

Fluttershy turned towards the commotion and saw a large winged feline with a nasty-looking scorpion tail walking towards her. The creature let out another ghastly roar, which might have caused the assembled ponies to reconsider their decision not to panic if their surprisingly fearless leader hadn’t flown over to it with a warm smile on her face. “It’s so good to see you again, Manny. How have things been in the Everfree Forest?”

The manticore roared again, blowing Fluttershy’s mane out of place.

“A pride? Oh, that’s wonderful!”

The manticore looked somewhat sheepish at Fluttershy’s praise—Applejack wasn’t certain, but she thought it might have been blushing. Well, either that, or it was red in the face with anger. It was somewhat difficult to tell from a distance. “Rooaaarrr!”

Fluttershy wagged a hoof at her friend. “Now, there’s no need to be pessimistic like that. I’m sure you’ll be a superb father.”

“Roooaaaarrrr!”

“Of course I’ll be willing to help out, but in an emergency, you should probably see the local veterinarian, or perhaps Zecora.”

The manticore paused for a bit and scratched his head with a claw, seemingly uncertain about how to continue the conversation. Eventually, he was able to formulate his thoughts coherently: “Roooaaarrr roar rrrooooooaaaaarrrrr!”

The pegasus nodded her head vigorously. “Well, obviously.”

“Roooooooaaaaarrrrr!”

“You’re quite welcome. It’s the least I can do for you now that you’ve agreed to help out. Come on, let me introduce you.” Fluttershy flew back to where Applejack was standing, now joined by a terrified-looking salesdonkey. “Manny Roar, this is Douglas Fir, and I believe you’ve already met Applejack.”

Applejack tried to avoid cringing, but the monster’s sheer bulk made that difficult. “Uh, Sugarcube, I’m pretty sure I’d remember meetin’ a manticore,” she replied when it became clear that the donkey was too shocked to speak.

“Oh, but you have met Manny. Don’t you remember? On the night when we defeated Nightmare Moon?”

Applejack swallowed hard. “Huh? You mean this is that manticore?” She briefly wondered if he remembered her attempt to subdue him by jumping on his back and riding him like an angry bull.

“Of course. Go on, say hello, Manny.”

“Rrroooaaaarrrr!”

Apparently, the manticore did indeed remember, assuming that that was the reason for all of the extra spittle. Applejack barely managed to keep her hat from blowing away. “Um, nice ta see ya again, I s’pose. So, uh, Fluttershy, would ya mind explainin’ how this thing—”

“That’s ‘Manny’ or ‘Mr. Roar,’” Fluttershy corrected sternly.

“Sorry. But how’s Mr. Roar s’posed ta be better than a beaver?”

“That’s quite simple, actually. You see, for eons, manticores have been competing with timberwolves for territory, and the venom in their tails is very effective at creating weak points in wood. So, he’ll follow Mr. Fir, who will point out which trees are going to be removed. Then Manny will sting the trees near the roots, and after a few seconds, he’ll be able to rip the tree off of its stump. It’s a very efficient plan, don’t you think?”

Applejack glanced over at the donkey, who was looking extremely pale. “Uh, somethin’ tells me Mr. Fir might be more comfortable if you came along with them. You know, for... communication issues.”

“Oh, my, I hadn’t thought of that...”

“Listen, don’t you worry none about the carts and such. I can handle that, and if you’re needed, I’ll send somepony to fetch you.”

Fluttershy nodded. “Um, okay, then. So, now that everything’s ready, um, I guess we ought to get started.”

“Right,” Applejack said with a nod. “Alright, everypony!” she called out to the masses. “Get ready to move ’em out!”

Author's Note

It wasn't until I wrote this chapter that I discovered that Hasbro had given the manticore from the second episode an official name. I must have missed that EQD post.

August 31 – 5:41 PM

Spike was starting to wish that Twilight hadn’t given him the task of dusting her personal collection of books while she was helping out Fluttershy. It wasn’t that he had a problem with performing such a menial chore; Twilight asked him to do boring stuff for her all the time. Neither was the job particularly difficult. No, the problem was that the unicorn’s personal library was located in her bedroom, where a gray stallion was currently sprawled out on the guest bed.

Of course, Spike was well aware that Pencil Pusher needed to sleep—Twilight had explained quite unambiguously that the bureaucrat had been overworked to exhaustion over the past twenty-four hours, and that he was not to be disturbed. However, all the sympathy in the world couldn’t make his sleep-talking any less distracting.

“Urnh... nyerfacegrig....”

Spike cringed, partly due to the pegasus’ bizarre muttering, but mostly because looking at the stallion’s face allowed him to clearly make out the damp spot of drool on the pillow next to the corner of his mouth that bore an uncanny resemblance to an irritated squid. The young dragon wrenched his attention away from the sight and returned it to Twilight Sparkle’s 17-volume Concise Encyclopedia of Magic.

August 31 – 5:47 PM

Fluttershy briefly wondered if asking Manny Roar for help had been such a good idea. She kept forgetting that many ponies (and, more relevantly at the moment, donkeys) seemed to be much more uncomfortable than she was around creatures whose adorability was slightly less obvious than, say, a tarantula. In particular, Douglas Fir seemed rather unenthusiastic about the prospect of guiding a wild manticore through his forest, even with the promise of Fluttershy’s presence to make sure everything went smoothly.

That said, Mr. Fir soon accepted that procrastination wasn’t really an option here, and before long he was moving briskly through the groves, marking the trees to be felled with a piece of chalk. For his part, Manny seemed to be enjoying himself, as the novelty of attacking trees who made no effort to fight back was an interesting change of pace. All he had to do was make sure to leave the logs in the open, so the unicorns could levitate them to the designated loading area. All the while, Fluttershy kept up her conversation with the manticore, to ensure that Manny’s good mood stayed in place until the job was finished—grumpy manticores had an unfortunate tendency to act on antisocial impulses, after all. Things seemed to be going okay for the first few minutes, but Fluttershy couldn’t shake the feeling that there were going to be unforeseen complications in the plan.

She was right.

August 31 – 5:58 PM

“Uh, Ms. Sparkle?”

Twilight was a bit startled to hear somepony addressing her so formally, but she quickly brushed this off. “Yes? Is there something wrong?” she asked, keeping her eyes fixed on the chunks of wood that she was efficiently layering in a cart.

“I’m not sure,” the unknown stallion’s voice replied. “But, well, since you’re in charge, I thought you might want to know about this.”

Twilight sighed and set down her load. “First of all,” she said turning to face a unicorn stallion with a milk-chocolate coat and a wavy white mane, “I’m not in charge. That would be Fluttershy.”

“But she isn’t here, though.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll take a look, um... I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

“Mochaccino.”

“Really? I thought you were a pegasus.”

“No, you’re thinking of my cousin, Macchiato.”

“I see. Well, what was it you needed to show me?”

The stallion nervously dragged one of his front hooves across the soil. “Um, well, I was wondering if all this wood was supposed to be green.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The wood. A lot of it’s green, presumably because that lion-thing just tore it out of the ground. I’ve done enough camping to know that green wood tends to make a lot of smoke, and I was wondering if that was really a good idea. You know, because we’re trying to stop a fog, after all.”

“I’m... not too sure about that, actually.” Twilight couldn’t think of a reason why smoke would be an issue, but then again, the fact that green wood didn’t burn with as much heat might be more important. She was fairly certain that the bonfires should be as hot as possible, but on the other hoof—

“Hey!” came a familiar drawling yell. “What’s the hold-up?” Applejack had a rather annoyed expression on her face as she trotted up to the the two unicorns. “We gotta keep this movin’ or Rainbow Dash is liable to take off that suit just so she can start pullin’ her mane out.”

“There’s a potential issue with the wood. I don’t know if Fluttershy fully considered that we’d be using green wood when she approved the plan.”

“And you’re suggestin’ we shut the whole thing down because of it?”

“No, of course not. I’m saying that we don’t know if it will be worthwhile to change the plan in order to let the weather team build ideal bonfires.”

The apple farmer narrowed her eyelids skeptically. “Sounds like splittin’ hairs to me.”

Twilight eyes flitted around nervously before she made her decision. “I’m going to talk to Fluttershy. Just hold up for a little bit, and then we’ll get back underway.”

Applejack, however, had her doubts about this course of action. “‘Twi, it ain’t like we got a lot of time to get this done,” she said with more than a hint of exasperation in her voice. “Fussin’ over details ain’t gonna help, especially since that ain’t your job this time.”

“I know, but I really think we should get Fluttershy’s approval one way or the other before moving forward.”

“Um,” Mochaccino said nervously, “we could always just keep things going while you talk to her. I mean, green firewood’s still better than no firewood, right?” He seemed very self-conscious as he made the suggestion, if only because he was the one who’d made this an issue in the first place.

Apparently, this idea had not occurred to the perfectionist unicorn. “Huh? Oh, uh, right. You guys keep doing that while I talk to Fluttershy.” Twilight started galloping towards the forest, pausing only to call out, “Don’t worry! I’ll get back here as soon as I can!”

Mochaccino glanced over at Applejack. “Uh, is she always that... tense?”

“Nah,” the farmer replied as she idly fanned herself with her hat. “Usually, it’s worse.”

August 31 – 6:03 PM

Admittedly, Lyra hadn’t really expected very much from Pinkie’s proposal in the short term; she figured that the best-case scenario was that maybe a half-dozen or so ponies would return after they attended their initial meeting. However, when she took her first break from loading firewood onto carts, the amateur cryptozoologist was pleasantly surprised to learn that some of the volunteers were already taking the idea of SPHERE seriously, and she soon found herself explaining the group’s ideals to a small group of unicorns, although some (most notably, Lyra’s dentist, Minuette) were still a bit skeptical.

“Are you sure that you and Bon-Bon are even talking about the same creatures?” the blue unicorn asked. “She makes them sound like parasprites, only less adorable and more prone to violence.”

“Ah, well, I’d say that’s really more of a case of cynicism getting in the way of common sense. You see,” Lyra explained, “Bon-Bon and I actually agree that any humans we meet will almost certainly be formidable fighters, but where she gets hung up on how this constitutes a threat, I’m worried that unscrupulous ponies will force them to fight against our enemies.”

“But... Equestria doesn’t have any enemies,” Minuette replied with an exasperated edge to her voice.

“And if our military is supplemented by big, scary-looking humans who are being pressured to look mean and nasty, it’ll probably stay that way.”

“You don’t really think the Princesses would do that, though, do you?” asked a reddish-brown unicorn whom Lyra didn’t recognize.

“Well, no, not really,” she replied. “But they wouldn’t have to be part of the official military. A few wealthy ponies could make them into a sort of private military company, which they could then hire out to other parts of the world, starting a whole new war economy.”

“But how would anypony force them to do something like that?” asked a pudgy beige stallion whom Lyra hadn’t even noticed joining her audience.

Lyra had to pause for a bit before she could think of an answer to that question. “I think I read something about microscopic machines that are powered by magic being developed in a lab somewhere. Since humans have no experience resisting the effects of magic, they could just inject them into their bloodstream and use that to keep track of them and control them.”

“That... that sounds horrifying!” some voice near the back of the crowd called out.

“I know!” Lyra replied. She was starting to get into that splendid righteously-indignant groove that made activism feel so wonderful. “The poor creatures would be like puppets, doing the bidding of greedy industrialists who would throw them away like cannon fodder, instead of convincing them to do nice things like using those adorable fingers to give everypony deep tissue massages... with those magnificent opposable thumbs kneading out all the kinks that you can’t quite work out with hooves....” The mint green unicorn trailed off as a small droplet of saliva formed in one of the corners of her half-open smile.

Her audience members, however, seemed to be more concerned with potential abuses. “That’s terrible!” — “How can they do something like that?!” — “And here I thought you two were the nutjobs!” — “We need to let everypony know about this....”

Lyra heard all of this, but it only half-registered in her brain, which was still hovering around daydreams of hands rubbing that one spot on her withers that the spa ponies never seemed to quite get to.

“Hey, Lyra!”

The unicorn snapped to attention as an irritated voice called out her name. Break time was over, apparently, and Minuette was staring at her with a rather impatient look on her face. “Sorry! I’ll be right there.”

August 31 – 6:06 PM

“Well, I agree that Ronald is a very nice name, but that doesn’t mean you should ignore the opinions of the ladycores in your pride.”

“Roooaaarrr!!”

“Oh, they’re called baricos? I didn’t know that. You learn something new every day, I suppose.”

Douglas Fir wasn’t exactly sure what to make of the rather bizarre dialogue that the local fog specialist was having with “Mr. Roar,” which was why he was relieved when a lavender unicorn galloped up to them and started a new conversation that he was actually capable of following... sort of.

“Fluttershy! Green wood! Smoke! Fog! Bad, maybe!”

The pegasus wrinkled her eyebrows in concern. “Um, Twilight, maybe you should take a few deep breaths and try again.”

Twilight nodded, and after a few seconds of controlled breathing, she had regained her ability to speak in complete sentences. “Fluttershy, will using green wood to make the bonfires be a problem?”

Fluttershy would have answered, but the sound of a hoof hitting a skull interrupted her. “Argh!” Mr. Fir shouted in frustration. “I can’t believe I forgot about that! I’m sorry, Ms. Fluttershy. In all the excitement about making such a large sale, I forgot to mention that I’d only have lower quality merchandise available. I assure you, you’ll get a discount.”

“Oh, um, thank you. But why is green wood not as good? I mean, flora aren’t really my area of interest...”

“More smoke, and the flames aren’t as hot,” Twilight said. “That might be a problem.”

Fluttershy nodded. “You’re probably right. I’m not sure what the smoke might do, but we definitely want the fires burning as hot as possible. Um, do you know any spells to make the green wood, well, not-green?”

“Let me think about that for a bit. Hmm... I’d need a way to dry the sap....” Twilight mentally flipped through her catalogue of spells, and soon lit upon one that seemed promising. “There is a particular spell used to magically fire pottery when an actual kiln is unavailable. If I tone down the intensity, I might be able to dry the sap quickly without actually igniting the wood.”

“There’s a spell that can do that?” Douglas Fir asked. “How come none of the unicorns I hire for seasonal work ever mention it?”

“Well, for one thing, it wasn’t originally intended for forestry, so it probably wouldn’t occur to many unicorns that it could be adapted that way. For another, it requires a fairly powerful magic user, and unless one of the local unicorns has a pottery cutie mark, I’m probably the only one who could pull it off with any regularity.”

Fluttershy nodded. “Do you think you could try doing it, though?”

“Probably... but I’d need all my concentration, which means I wouldn’t be able to oversee the other unicorns.”

“Oh, um, okay. Do you think Rarity would mind taking your place, then?”

“Hey, we’re here to help you however we can, Fluttershy. I’m sure she won’t have a problem.”

The pegasus let out a sigh of relief. “That’s good. You’d better get back to the base and let everypony know about the change.”

“Right... speaking of which, at what point in the process should I actually dry the wood out? Before loading, or during the loading process?”

“Um, I’ll leave that decision up to you. You’ll have a better idea of how to use it effectively.”

Twilight nodded and galloped off, leaving Fluttershy to mull over the conversation for a few seconds before the silence was interrupted by an ear-splitting roar. Fluttershy looked back at the manticore, who was leaning against an unusually thick pine. “Actually, Manny, I think Emile is a perfectly fine name for a male cub.”

August 31 – 6:13 PM

Admittedly, Bon-Bon hadn’t expected very much to come from Pinkie’s proposal in the short term; she figured that the best-case scenario was that maybe a half-dozen or so ponies would return after they attended their initial meeting, assuming that the humans hadn’t razed Ponyville to the ground by then. That said, the conversations she had with the other earth ponies when she took her breaks seemed to be reason enough for cautious optimism; before today, most ponies would do little more than roll their eyes when she brought up the impending threat, but now, there were at least a few who wanted some more information before making up their minds.

“So, how exactly would these humans get here?” asked a muscular blue stallion whom Bon-Bon had occasionally seen walking outside her shop.

“Have you ever heard of the legend of the Rainbow Bridge?”

“Not really,” the stallion replied. “Never paid much attention in school.”

“Oh. Well, the Rainbow Bridge is really more like a series of bridges said to link Equestria to countless other worlds. Some of them are inhabited by ponies like us, but a lot of them lead to nightmarish dystopias, with nothing but bleakness, strife, and other really unpleasant things.”

“Dystopia? I think my cousin came down with that once. Didn’t come out of the outhouse for a full day.”

“Uh, that’s not what the word means,” Bon-Bon said, doing her best to suppress the dry heaves forming in her throat, “but metaphorically speaking, it still works. Naturally, the humans come from one of the bad places.”

“But what could they possibly want in Equestria?” asked a tan mare named Ambrosia who Bon-Bon had occasionally seen working on construction crews in town.

“What wouldn’t they want? We have magic, we have the ability to control the weather, and we’re the best farmers in existence, and they can’t do any of that! Well, maybe the last one, but definitely not as well as we can. Those who can’t perform those services for them will no doubt be enslaved and forced to pacify their demonic offspring with our colorful coats and easily-styled manes. They may even force us to let the little monsters ride us!”

“Um, well, that actually doesn’t sound all that bad,” Ambrosia replied. “I mean, it’s obviously not very good, but I think I could live with it if I had to.”

“Did I forget to mention that they’ll probably try to breed us to bring out the genetic traits they find most desirable?”

This produced a rather different reaction from the construction worker: “Urgh... what?! That’s disgusting! I’m not going to sleep around just to make a naked sasquatch happy!” The other ponies crowding around Bon-Bon seemed to agree with this sentiment; ponies could handle breeding perfectly well on their own, thank you very much.

The candymaker smiled to herself. It seemed that her ideas were finally getting some respect. All that was left was to present her full argument for the existence, which she would soon be able to back up with nice, solid evidence scrounged from the first wave of human invaders—

“Hey!” Applejack shouted as she cantered over to the group. “We ain’t got time fer lollygaggin’, folks. Move out!”

August 31 – 6:20 PM

As she flew back and forth between the various fire pits, Rainbow Dash was growing increasingly irritated. The fog was moving steadily closer, but if anything, the bonfires were starting to die down. “Come on, guys!” she shouted as she landed next to Thunderlane, Flitter, and Cloudchaser and their embarrassingly mediocre conflagration. “This thing needs to be at least 20% hotter, and soon.”

“I know, Boss,” Thunderlane replied, “but it’s kind of difficult to get the fire going when we have to keep rationing our firewood. I thought we were supposed to get a continuous supply.”

Rainbow Dash paused for a few seconds before answering, “We were. Something must have gotten messed up. Okay, you just work on making this fire better for now. I’ll talk to the other teams.”

“And what about the firewood?”

Rainbow Dash smirked and whistled six notes in an upbeat melody.

“Sir, yes sir, what do you need, sir, ma’am sir?!”

The three pegasi tending the fire jumped into the air as Pinkie Pie popped out from behind their superior, clad in green fatigues and standing at attention—which was kind of impressive, given the earth pony’s notoriously short attention span. Rainbow Dash, unlike her underlings, showed no surprise whatsoever, and quickly explained the situation to her. “The firewood’s running low. Go find Fluttershy and see if this can be fixed.”

“Okie dokie lokie, sir!” Pinkie Pie gave her friend a crisp salute and began bounding down the mountain path.

August 31 – 6:32 PM

Fluttershy paced back and forth as Pinkie Pie finished telling her the news. The whole plan was spiraling into chaos, and it was only a matter of time before the Equestrian Revenue Service hauled her away. Really, the only reason she hadn’t started screaming and flailing about in a blind panic was the near certainty that this would bother Mr. Roar, and it just wasn’t right to upset such a sweet, innocent creature. Perhaps I should head north. After all, there aren’t many ponies living in the Crystal Mountains, and it’s not like a whole civilization is going to pop into existence overnight. Fluttershy would have continued speculating about how she could acquire a new parka in the summer without drawing attention to herself, but a cheerful, upbeat voice intruded on her thoughts.

“Of course, what’s really lucky is that I think I figured out what’s causing the slowdown on my way down. Ooh... I think there might be a good song lyric in that last sentence. Maybe if I can incorporate the word ‘down’ in the beginning part...”

“Um, Pinkie? You, er, were saying about the firewood?”

“Calm down,” the earth pony replied, though in an oddly neutral tone that sounded like neither a request nor a command.

“I... I’m perfectly calm,” Fluttershy responded, feeling quite confused. She certainly thought she was acting appropriately even-keeled, given the situation. After all, she was talking to a lovable forest creature, and there were few things more relaxing than that. “Why wouldn’t I be?” she finally asked.

“Huh? Oh, sorry, I was still thinking about ‘down.’ Basically, some of the ponies are debating whether humans are going to be bad or good, and they’re getting distracted, and that’s slowing them down, and slowing down the ponies behind them, and the ponies behind them, and the ponies behind those ponies—”

“I see,” Fluttershy interrupted. She didn’t have very much patience for a Pinkie Pie feedback loop at the moment. “I suppose Lyra and Bon-Bon are behind this.”

“Yeah, probably. They both like talking about humans, and they don’t seem to get many chances to do it with ponies who are actually interested in what they have to say.”

Fluttershy sighed. “I guess I’ll have to talk with them about this. And have Rarity and Applejack crack down on other ponies doing it, too.”

“Ooh! ‘Crack down!’ I need to remember that one.”

This seemed reasonably close to an acknowledgement of what Fluttershy had actually said, so she decided to continue. “Would you mind keeping Manny and Mr. Fir company for a bit? I need to get this sorted out.”

“You betcha!”

Fluttershy sighed again as she walked out of the forest. She hated lecturing others about their mistakes. It just felt so... mean-spirited, especially since her big mistake was so much worse.

August 31 – 6:52 PM

Rainbow Dash smiled as the bonfires’ flames began climbing once again. She could now feel the heat from the fires while hovering twenty trots over them, which meant that the fires themselves were probably starting to make life really unpleasant for the ponies who had to tend to them. For the briefest of moments, Rainbow Dash considered flying down to base camp to learn just what had gone wrong, but she soon changed her mind. She could get all the answers she wanted later; right now, she had a job to do, and that job was to keep the fires going. With only an hour or so before the fog was due to arrive, now was not the time to slack off.

The pegasus’ silver fog suit glittered in the descending sun as she stared at the white mass that had blotted out the entire northern horizon. Definitely getting close, now. After mulling her options, she made a decision. “Okay, everypony!” she yelled out at the top of her lungs. “Fog suits on!”

This was met either with groans from the weather team, or blatant attempts to pretend that the order had not been heard. Rainbow Dash sped down the line of bonfires to ensure that the latter of these couldn’t be used as an excuse, giving orders and dispensing advice as needed along the way. “Yeah, I know it’s hot, but you’re going to want to get them on right now. Trust me. And remember to stay hydrated! The last thing we need right now is for one of you guys to pass out.”

Once that was done, the blue pegasus flew back to the fog bank to make sure nothing unexpected was happening.

August 31 – 7:29 PM

“Well, that should just about do it. Nice getting to know you, Manny.” Fluttershy smiled as she heard the donkey’s farewell. Douglas Fir had really seemed to warm up to the manticore over the past hour and a half, and just as importantly, the manticore seemed to reciprocate the attitude.

“Roaarrrrrrr!!”

“Er, what did he say?” the donkey asked Fluttershy.

“Oh, um, ‘So long,’ more or less,” she answered.

It really was quite satisfying, in a way. Manny Roar had harvested more than enough trees to keep the bonfires going for a few hours by the salesdonkey’s reckoning, and because they had outpaced the unicorns charged with loading up carts, a huge stockpile of firewood now sat outside of the cabin, all dried by Twilight Sparkle and ready for use.

As she watched the manticore walk back towards the Everfree forest, Fluttershy felt an overwhelming sense of relief wash over her. Other than the slowdown from the impromptu human debates, there hadn’t been any major hiccups. Granted, dealing with Lyra and Bon-Bon hadn’t been pleasant—they initially reacted to her relatively mild scolding by trying to justify their actions, which had lead to shouting, and when the shouting only lead to counter-shouts, Fluttershy had been forced to break out The Stare. She didn’t like using The Stare on other ponies; it felt like cheating, and some ponies... well, some ponies had more severe reactions to it than others. Maybe I should bring Bon-Bon some cookies later...

In any case, Applejack and Rarity had the unicorns and earth ponies functioning so flawlessly that Twilight hadn’t felt any need to return to overseeing the unicorns when she’d finished drying all of the firewood. “Well,” Fluttershy said, “it seems like the worst is over.”

“My dear, you should never, ever say that sort of thing out loud,” responded the polished voice of Mayor P. Diane Mare, somewhat startling Fluttershy, who hadn’t realized that anypony was listening to her.

“Why not?” the pegasus asked.

“Because irony has a way of creeping into life when you least expect it,” the politician answered. “Apparently, the universe enjoys toying with ponies.” It sort of sounded like a joke, but Fluttershy noticed that the older mare’s mouth was rigidly fixed in a neutral expression. “Case in point: there’s a group of ponies from out of town who are making their way here from my office even as we speak, and they are very interested in talking to you.”

Fluttershy let out a high-pitched squeal of panic. “Oh no! Is it... Is it the ERS?”

“Worse,” replied the Mayor in her most solemn tone of voice. “It’s the media.”

August 31 – 7:59 PM

Even though shards of Celestia’s sunset were still managing to pierce the forest canopy, Douglas Fir busied himself lighting several gas lamps around his front porch, which was apparently the most convenient location for an impromptu press conference. He’d set an upturned log in front of his door as a makeshift lectern, and he’d also dragged two wooden chairs from his kitchen so that the mayor and Ms. Fluttershy would each have a place to sit down while the other was speaking. At the moment, Mayor Mare was reviewing the events of the past few hours for the assembled reporters. Twilight Sparkle had been the one to suggest this approach, theorizing that letting the mayor handle the general questions would mean that Fluttershy would only need to deal with technical questions.

However, as she scanned the crowd of reporters, the fog specialist’s confidence in this idea plummeted. Every pair of eyes seemed to keep shifting back to her, probing her for weaknesses. Fluttershy was surprised to see some faces that she recognized from her stint as a supermodel, and it was these reporters who were the most discomforting. Every pony in this category wore an expression of skeptical annoyance, with one or two of them going so far as to roll their eyes; they must have worked their tails off to get from the fashion beat to a more “respectable” position, yet here they were, still having to deal with Fluttershy.

As the mayor sat down and Fluttershy walked to the lectern log, she couldn’t help feeling her usual nervousness start twisting her stomach in knots. With any luck, it would be over relatively soon. Ears up....

“Thank you, Mayor,” she said before turning her attention to her inquisitors. “I’m ready to take your questions.” Several ponies raised their hooves in the air; Fluttershy pointed a hoof at a pale yellow unicorn stallion with an orange mane. “Um, you.”

“Exclusive, San Flankcisco Chronometer,” the stallion said, introducing himself. “Can you explain why the Department of Weather has decided to devote so many resources and taxpayer bits to dealing with this situation? Even if it was mass-produced, fog’s fog, right?”

“Um, not in this case. This fog is not normal; as a result, anypony who gets caught unaware could find themselves in trouble very quickly, even if they aren’t a pegasus.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“Um... well, the fog is cold and dense enough to pose a risk of hypothermia to anypony who isn’t wearing a coat. And of course, pegasi could easily find themselves trapped in their own homes as the fog rolls through.”

This seemed to satisfy the reporter, who focused his attention onto his notebook.

“Er, thank you,” Fluttershy said awkwardly, having no idea how one was supposed to conclude an exchange like this. “Um, next question?”

A brownish-grey earth pony mare with a greyish-brown mane raised her hoof. “Muckraker, Fillydelphia Inquiry. What exactly is going to happen when the fog meets these fires?”

“Um, I can’t say with absolute certainty what will happen, because the fog isn’t behaving the way normal fog does. With any luck, the heat from the fires will cause the fog to disperse.”

“And when will we learn whether this plan is as ‘lucky’ as you hope it is?”

Fluttershy swallowed nervously. “Well, if all of the measurements of the fog’s speed are correct, we should be finding out very soon.”

August 31 – 8:02 PM

Despite the heat of their bonfire, the westernmost team of pegasi (known as “Team Alpha” because Rainbow Dash thought it was cooler than “Team 1”) couldn’t help but notice the temperature starting to drop as the fog crept closer. Thanks to the topography of the Unicorn Range, the fog would arrive at their bonfire first, but that wasn’t the only reason that Rainbow Dash had stopped to give them a last minute pep talk.

“You guys are all reservists, right?”

Several bright yellow sou’wester rain hats bobbed up and down as the fog-suited pegasi nodded in response. Given how they were dressed, one would be forgiven for assuming that they’d been preparing to brave a storm on the high seas—which wasn’t that far from the truth.

Rainbow Dash smiled and continued. “I bet a few of you are wondering why there aren’t any full-time weatherponies in the advance team. The answer is simple: all of you said that you had extensive experience camping, which would mean that you know how to build fires—and it looks like you were telling the truth.” The pegasus paused and admired the blaze that was roaring behind the assembled team.

She continued, “But in a few minutes, that fog is going to be here, and it’s gonna be cold, wet, and thick, and you’re going to have to do everything you can to keep this fire going. If we’re lucky, the hot air will push the fog up into the air and break it up. If we aren’t... well, I’ll be sticking around here for now. If I tell you to clear out, you drop whatever you’re doing and join up with Team Beta. Got it?”

The team responded with more nods and a few affirmative mumbles.

That, however, wasn’t good enough for Rainbow Dash. “I said, ‘Got it?’”

“Yes, ma’am!” the team chorused back.

“That’s more like it. Now, c’mon, we’re out of time to waste.”

The team returned to work, and not a moment too soon, as the faintest wisps of cloud had begun slithering into the air around them. Within minutes, visibility had plummeted; soon, only the bonfire and its immediate surroundings could be seen—and even that was shaky, as the fire’s strength had begun to waver in the grip of the damp, cold, dark grey blob. Team Alpha gamely pressed on, though, continuing to stoke the fire even though the fog was obviously hindering their mobility, even in their standard yellow fog suits, but any hope that Operation Heatstroke would quickly resolve the problem had faded even faster than the blaze.

Soon, the stockpile of wood was nearly gone, and more importantly, the fog had dampened what remained to the point where it was producing as much smoke as flame. Rainbow Dash bit her lip, and then made her decision.

“Fall back! Fall back!” The weatherpony watched the reservists fly southeast towards Team Beta, and then turned her attention back to the fog. Without the constant attention, the once-magnificent bonfire had been reduced to smoldering embers as the fog closed in around it. The silver-clad pegasus flew into the mass of water vapor to see if she could feel any difference. After a few passes, she was fairly certain that the fog hadn’t dispersed, but the southward pressure against her body was significantly less intense than it had been earlier in the day.

The fog was slowing down.

August 31 – 8:04 PM

“I really wish Sweetie Belle was here,” Scootaloo remarked in between strained grunts as she pulled on the handle of her wagon.

“Yeah, I got that the first dozen times ya said it,” Apple Bloom said wearily from where she was pushing the rear of the wagon. “Ain’t her fault her mama couldn’t volunteer with the other grownups.” Apparently, the unicorn’s mother had come down with a mild colic that had nixed any chance of the filly sneaking out to join her friends in “acquiring” another part of their awesome human trap.

“I just didn’t expect this thing to be so heavy,” Scootaloo said. “Some more help moving it would have been nice.”

“Well,” the earth pony replied, “why didn’t we just wait until she could help us?”

“Because we have no idea if we’ll get a chance to borrow this from the construction site before the humans come.”

That seemed reasonable enough, but another thought occurred to Apple Bloom. “Why would a construction site have a jackhammer in the first place? I’d’a thought that was somethin’ you’d use for demolition.”

“Beats me,” the pegasus filly replied. “But the way I see it, that just means they’re less likely to notice it’s gone before we bring it back, right?”

“I s’pose...”

“Great. Now, c’mon, we need to get this back to the clubhouse.”

August 31 – 8:13 PM

Team Beta was better prepared for the incoming fog. Rainbow Dash had shifted some firewood to them from the bonfire teams who’d be facing the magically-infused clouds last, since they also happened to be closest to the earth ponies’ delivery point. As a result, the silver-wrapped mare had found herself chewing out several less experienced ponies for removing their sou’westers so they could fan themselves off as the fog approached.

However, it soon became apparent that, even though increasing the intensity of the flames resulted in a more pronounced slowdown, that was all it seemed to do. Indeed, it almost felt like the fog was growing denser as Rainbow Dash continued her reconnaissance flights. Of course, since she didn’t have any of the assorted widgets and doodads that eggheads like Twilight used to measure that sort of stuff, she couldn’t be sure if that was what was really happening, or if it was all in her head.

As she sat on the ground near the bonfire, pondering her next move, Thunderlane, the Beta Team leader, timidly fluttered over to his superior and nervously scraped the gravelly ground before speaking: “Um, Rainbow Dash? The fog isn’t going away.”

The weatherpony somehow managed to suppress a groan at this statement of the blatantly obvious. “Thanks, I can see that.”

“What should we do, Boss?”

For a few seconds, Rainbow Dash pondered whether or not she should fly down to the base to get Fluttershy’s opinion on what should be done next, but she decided against it. After all, she wouldn’t have been given this job in the first place if the fog specialist hadn’t trusted her judgment—hadn’t Fluttershy specifically said that her friend would be better at making decisions on the fly? And as Rainbow Dash thought about it more, it really did make sense. If she flew down to the base and tried to explain the situation, Fluttershy would either want to fly up to the mountains to see for herself, which would take way too much time, or she’d defer to the weatherpony’s judgment, rendering the time spent away from her team pointless.

The blue pegasus let out a slow breath. Rainbow Dash had promised herself that she was going to trust Fluttershy, and right now, Fluttershy trusted her. She quickly ran over her options, selected the one that seemed most promising, and committed to it.

“Stick with the plan, and keep the fire going as long you can. Even if the fog doesn’t go away, we can still slow it down and buy Fluttershy more time to come up with something else.” Thunderlane nodded and returned to his team, as Rainbow Dash flew eastward to tell the remaining fire teams of the new tactic.

August 31 – 8:27 PM

“Um, I don’t actually have much information on the business decisions Caligo made before the accident. It doesn’t seem to be all that relevant to the job I’m doing at the moment. Besides, now isn’t really the time for pointing hooves.”

The reporter from the Canterlot Sun didn’t seem particularly happy with this answer, but she apparently concluded that there wasn’t much point to pressing the matter. “Thank you, Ms. Fluttershy.”

After that rather icy reception, Fluttershy really wanted a friendly face, and she found it in the form of one of the local reporters for the Ponyville Express. “Yes, Homespun?”

A short, puce earth pony mare smiled briefly before asking, “When will you know if your plan has worked?”

It was a question that Fluttershy would have liked to know the answer to herself, especially since the trees blocked any chance to see if the fog had cleared yet. “I’ll know once Rainbow Dash returns here to tell me,” she said honestly. “Until then, we’ll all just have to be patient and wait.”

This answer was quite satisfactory to Homespun, who had known Fluttershy quite well for several years, but the other reporters were clearly disappointed that she didn’t tear into the specialist for what must have struck them as an obvious evasion of the question.

Fluttershy decided that now would be a good time to move on with the press conference. “Um, next question... er, how about you?” she said, pointing to a reddish-brown pegasus stallion with a baseball for a cutie mark.

“Hard Hitter of The Cloudsdale Eye. I noticed that most of the ponies that were given positions of authority today are personal friends of yours.”

“Uh, yes, they are.”

After several seconds of silence the reporter asked in a rather miffed tone, “Aren’t you going to answer the question?”

“But... you didn’t ask me a question.”

Hard Hitter apparently had thought his question was so self-evident that it didn’t need to be asked, because he was visibly attempting to repress a sneer when he continued. “Why didn’t you give these jobs to more qualified ponies?”

“My friends are qualified.”

“Because they’re your friends?”

“Um, no, because they’re the Elements of Harmony.”

This prompted a round of laughter from the other reporters, which didn’t improve Hard Hitter’s mood. “Thank you,” he said with perfect insincerity, glaring at the fog specialist even as she continued on.

Fluttershy did her best to put the pegasus reporter out of her mind as she pointed to another journalist, but his dirty looks weren’t making it easy. I hope Rainbow Dash is having better luck....

August 31 – 8:40 PM

For a plan that wasn’t working the way it was supposed to, Operation Heatstroke was going surprisingly well. Even though the fires hadn’t dispersed the fog bank, they’d managed to not only slow it down, but funnel it towards a single pass near Mt. Barbaro, where the largest of the fires was currently blazing.

With the entire team focused on a single fire, the pegasi now had the luxury of working in shifts, which in turn meant that they had a chance to cool down from the stifling heat within their oilskin fog suits. This also meant that many of them now had a chance to get a good look at their adversary, now lit up by both moonlight and firelight.

“It looks like a massive building,” a bluish-grey pegasus mare said to nopony in particular as she leaned back against an outcropping of rock, “only without windows. Or doors.”

Somepony, however, heard her and decided to respond. “Uh, Flitter, it is construction-grade cloud, remember?” Thunderlane reminded the mare, his eyes askance. “I’m pretty sure it was originally supposed to be a massive building. Several, in fact.”

“Oh, right. I forgot that part.” At the time, she’d been a bit distracted by Rainbow Dash’s distinctive attire. Now, however, it didn’t just look cool; it also looked cooler—like maybe twenty degrees cooler. At the very least, it didn’t look like their leader had spent the evening flying around inside her own personal steam room. “I wonder if Rarity has enough leftover fabric to make another. Or maybe she’ll have to order some more.”

“Actually,” Thunderlane replied, “Rainbow Dash told me that the fabric belonged to Fluttershy. But I don’t think this is the time to worry about fashion statements.”

Right on cue, Rainbow Dash hollered out. “Get to your stations, everypony! It’s here!”

The fog’s average density had increased dramatically throughout the evening, although it wasn’t consistent; sometimes, it was hardly more restrictive than normal fog, but in other places, moving around was like swimming through molasses, though proximity to the bonfire seemed to help a little bit. That is, until the fire began receding, the way all the others had done.

“C’mon, guys!” Rainbow shouted from somewhere above, where she was presumably keeping tabs on the fog’s movements. “Keep it up! We can do this!” More wood was piled onto the bonfire, as flapping wings delivered a constant supply of oxygen to the coals at its base. The flames flared upwards into the impenetrable grey haze. “Yeah! That’s the stuff! We just need to keep it from crossing the pass. Ponyville’s counting on you!” The pegasi sped up their efforts as best they could, but the conflagration’s heat and the fog’s sludgy consistency was rapidly draining what little energy they had left.

And then, just when it seemed like they’d be forced to give up, it happened: “Stop!” The silence that came after Rainbow Dash’s voice seemed interminable, punctuated only by the fire’s crackles and pops. “It’s not moving. It’s not moving!” Suddenly, a silver streak zipped into view landing near the fire. “The fog’s right at the pass, but it’s practically solid. You did it! You’ve stopped the fog!”

A huge cheer went up from the crowd of pegasi. It wasn’t really possible to see it from their post around the fog-shrouded bonfire, but Rainbow Dash wouldn’t lie about something like that. Their hard work had paid off; for the moment, the ponies of Ponyville were safe. Several of the pegasi immediately began to look relieved, as many slumped back onto their haunches and took off their hats to let the fog cool them down.

That’s when the mistake happened.

Whether it was a misunderstanding of Rainbow Dash’s announcement or the result of growing accustomed to the fog’s resistance, Flitter decided to partially unzip her fog suit in an effort to cool off a bit. Naturally, she had no intention of removing it completely—but reality has an uncanny way of rendering intentions moot. For although the edge of the fog bank was no longer creeping towards Ponyville, the vapor inside it was still moving around, and the now-exposed area of her chest, combined with her decision to stretch out her wings, made her unusually susceptible to a stray globule of unusually dense fog which caught her like a windsail in a storm.

The other pegasi had barely enough time to gasp before Flitter slammed into the still-burning fire.

August 31 – 8:46 PM

“Inside Scoop from The Globe and Trotter. If you don’t mind, could you explain how you came to be a fog specialist? It’s not exactly the sort of thing that normally follows from modeling and taking care of animals, after all.”

Fluttershy wasn’t sure which was worse: the question itself (which she’d been dreading since the press conference began), or the cagey look in Hard Hitter got in his eye when his colleague finished speaking. The meek pegasus had no idea how she’d be able to wrangle her way out of this particular mess—but fate, apparently, decided to bail her out of her predicament in the worst way imaginable.

“Whoa! Excuse me! Coming through!” A dark grey pegasus stallion skidded to a halt as he landed in front of the reporters. Apparently, Thunderlane had been in a bit of a rush, as he’d forgotten to remove his hat when he’d taken off his bulky and unwieldy fog suit—presumably to increase his flying speed, if the somewhat panicked look in his golden eyes was any indication. “Uh, Ms. Fluttershy?” he asked. “We’ve got a problem.”

Naturally, this statement piqued the curiosity of the horde of journalists, who all seemed to lean forward at once in an effort to catch whatever sordid tidbit of information the stallion had brought. Unfortunately for them, this mass shuffling seemed to alert Thunderlane to their presence; he looked genuinely shocked when he glanced behind him and saw a crowd of mostly unfamiliar ponies. He beckoned Fluttershy to move closer to him, and when she complied, he began whispering rapidly in her ear.

As she listened to the message, Fluttershy’s eyes began to widen while her pupils simultaneously contracted. Her already-pale yellow face grew even paler, and for a split-second, her knees appeared to wobble. However, her ears didn’t flatten out; they stayed upright and facing forward, and (to Mayor Mare’s intense gratification) the fog specialist didn’t seem to be attempting to force an aura of phony confidence. When Thunderlane had finished, she nodded and returned to the lectern.

“I’m sorry, everypony, but I’m going to have to end this press conference. A matter has come up which requires my full attention. Thank you for your time.” Without waiting for a response, Fluttershy took to the air and started flying away much faster than anypony present had ever seen her move before.

August 31 – 9:02 PM

It had taken more than an hour, but Scootaloo and Apple Bloom ultimately prevailed in their attempt to lug the “borrowed” jackhammer back to the clubhouse. They had even managed to conceal it perfectly, assuming that nopony thought to peek underneath the threadbare tablecloth that covered a large, irregularly-shaped object leaning against the corner of the room. It felt like a superb end to a day of unusually productive crusading, an experience marred only by Sweetie Belle’s inability to escape from the attention of her mother so she could join them.

However, after Scootaloo departed from Sweet Apple Acres, there remained one final obstacle for Apple Bloom: getting back into her bedroom. Granny Smith knew dozens of aphorisms about the importance of a good night’s sleep for a growing foal, and experience had long ago taught her grandchildren that she believed every single one of them. Barring holidays such as Nightmare Night or the Summer Sun Celebration, a young filly had no business being out of bed at nine o’clock, at least as far as the old green mare was concerned.

Luckily for Apple Bloom, these days Granny Smith usually turned in even earlier than she did, leaving the enforcement of her rules to Big Macintosh and Applejack, who were conveniently spending the evening assisting the weather team. Thus, all she had to do was carefully and quietly make her way through the darkened farmhouse and slip beneath the covers, and Granny Smith would be none the wiser.

Not only was this a reasonably well thought-out plan, but to Apple Bloom’s mild surprise, it seemed to work. Granted, there were a few close calls: the filly had to bite her lip to keep from shouting after banging her shin into a wayward ottoman, and she nearly fell over from shock when she accidentally put all of her weight onto the super-creaky step at the top of the staircase, but Apple Bloom soon found herself in the safety of her room. She walked over to her bed as quietly as she could, pulled back the covers...

...and then the lights turned on.

“Back in my day, we were smart enough ta put pillows under our blankets so it looked like we were sleepin’ already.” Apple Bloom swallowed hard before turning around to face the source of the raspy, sardonic advice. Granny Smith’s face looked even more wrinkled than usual as she glared at her granddaughter. “You’ve got some explainin’ ta do, missy.”

August 31 – 9:06 PM

Fluttershy’s wings were painfully sore by the time she landed at the entrance to the Ponyville Hospital. They’d never hurt this badly before, not even when she was training for Tornado Day. However, she didn’t have time to indulge in such speculation; she had to find out what was happening. Upon questioning the receptionist about Flitter’s location, Fluttershy rushed down the hallway at a near gallop. She might have passed the Intensive Care Unit altogether had she not collided with with Rainbow Dash, who was pacing outside the door, still in her reflective fog suit. The rather distressed-looking weatherpony seemed ready to unleash a string of foul language at whatever blockhead had crashed into her, but this changed the instant she recognized her friend.

“Fluttershy! Just the mare I wanted to see. Did Thunderlane fill you in on the details?”

The yellow pegasus didn’t answer right away; she was too busy catching her breath to form any intelligible words. Eventually, though, she managed to reply, “Well, I didn’t stick around to ask him questions, but I think Thunderlane said something about Flitter being set on fire....”

“Er, that’s sort of overstating it a bit. What happened is that Flitter unzipped her fog suit too early and got pushed into the bonfire.”

“Oh no!” Fluttershy gasped, turning white as a sheet. “Into the bonfire? That’s... I mean, is she— will she be okay?”

Rainbow Dash held up her hoof to calm her friend down. “Don’t worry, Fluttershy. The staff here says she should be fine. Only her coat, mane, feathers, and, like, the top layers of skin in a few places got burned. Doc says that between magic spells and maybe a graft or two, she should make a full recovery. I don’t blame you for being worried, though. It could have been a lot worse. When I say she got pushed into the fire, I really mean that the fog slammed Flitter against the burning pieces of wood, but her momentum kept her moving until she hit the ground on the other side of the pit. Now, if she’d landed in the hottest part of the fire instead of simply being chucked through it, the doctor says that would have been really bad.”

Fluttershy didn’t particularly want to think about what the hospital staff would have considered “bad,” so she decided to keep focusing on the positive. “So, Flitter should be back on her hooves in no time, then.”

“Uh....” Rainbow Dash’s noncommittal groan as she scratched the back of her head soured Fluttershy’s mood almost immediately.

“What else happened?” Fluttershy asked, preemptively wincing at the forthcoming prognosis.

“Well, it’s not too serious,” Rainbow Dash said. “It’s just that saying she’ll be ‘back on her hooves’ isn’t really the best expression to use.”

“She’s paralyzed?!”

“What? No! She broke one of her hind legs when she hit the really thick pieces of firewood that were holding the rest of the bonfire up. Fractured tarsus—I had one of those when I was a filly. I was trying to see how fast I could fly backwards and that stupid mountain jumped right in front of me. Uh, I mean, behind me.”

Fluttershy sighed. “Okay, so moderate burns, and a broken leg.”

“Uh, two, actually. When she hit the ground, she landed on her forelegs badly. I mean, she broke her left front cannon, but she also dislocated it, and it was one of those really nasty compound ones where you can see the bone. I mean, it’s like somepony just shoved her hoof to the side, but her cannon stayed where it was, and it broke through—”

“Okay, I get the idea,” Fluttershy said, cutting off her friend before her description could get even more graphic. It wasn’t that she was a stranger to severe injuries; she’d had to transport a few of her animal friends to the local veterinarian after they’d been injured in the Everfree Forest, and the sights could occasionally be quite gruesome indeed. However, she was fairly certain that, as the pony nominally in charge of the situation, it was not worth risking the chance that other ponies might view the contents of her stomach. “But one way or another, Flitter’s going to be okay, right?”

“Physically, sure. Financially, however... uh, well that depends.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, she’s going to need surgery to get all her bones back where they’re supposed to go, and obviously she won’t be able to work while she’s recovering. Thing is, it’s kind of questionable whether this would normally be covered as a work injury, since she was doing something she’d been told not to do...” Rainbow Dash looked rather nervous as she described her subordinate’s plight, and it took Fluttershy a few seconds before she realized why her friend was having difficulty making eye contact.

“Do you need me to authorize something?”

The weatherpony’s eyes brightened immediately. “Yes! Um, I mean, if you think it’s, you know, justified, and stuff.” Rainbow Dash tried her best to look disinterested in the situation, but her efforts were betrayed by the way she was rapidly shifting her weight from hoof to hoof. “Don’t get me wrong,” she hastily added when she saw the look of concerned skepticism on her friend’s face. “There’s nothing shady about this. It’s just standard DOW procedure to make this sort of thing a judgment call on the part of whoever’s in charge. Usually, that’d be me, but you’re overseeing all of this. So, um, what’s your take on it?”

Fluttershy smiled as she made what might have been the first truly easy decision she’d encountered all day. “Of course it was a work-related injury. Should we head back to the library to see if Pencil Pusher has the forms with him?”

“No need. I’ve already filled out most of it,” Rainbow Dash replied, producing a thick sheaf of papers. “Just sign, here, here, here, initial here, and sign and date there.”

“You filled all of this out while I was on my way to the hospital?”

“Yeah, I kind of have a lot of practice filling out this form,” the weatherpony replied sheepishly as she started blushing through her blue coat.

Fluttershy sighed. “Do you have a pen?”

August 31 – 9:07 PM

There are times in every politician’s career when she must make hard decisions, risking the support of her constituents as she weighs mutually contradicting options against each other in an effort to determine the best course of action. Fortunately for Pinkamena Diane Mare’s efforts to snag the Royalist Party’s nomination in the next parliamentary election, this was not one of those times.

“Um, Auntie Diane?” Pinkie Pie asked as she stood next to the Mayor of Ponyville.

“Yes, Pinkie?” Mayor Mare said, not taking her eyes off the sight before her.

“Why did you climb all the way up here to stare at the fog?” The two of them had been standing on the mountain, observing the wayward weather formation as it ebbed and flowed in the moonlight for nearly ten minutes.

“Because the press is watching,” the Mayor replied, subtly jerking her head behind her. “Don’t look at them,” the earth pony quickly added before her niece could crane her neck to observe the journalists. Most of the reporters had already left to either start writing their articles or to continue their research, but several photographers had stayed behind to get some photo-ops, and Mayor Mare wasn’t about to turn them away. “We don’t want them to know that we’re talking about them.”

“Oh, okay,” Pinkie said. “So, um, why am I here?”

“You’re working with Fluttershy. If we’re talking together while we look at the fog, they’ll think I’m getting important information. It’s what’s expected of a leader.”

This didn’t make much sense to the pink party guru. “But you aren’t doing any leading. Fluttershy is.”

“That won’t shield me from criticism if I don’t look like I’m doing something.”

This didn’t sound very sensible to the pink earth pony, who scratched her head in mild confusion. “I just don’t understand politics, I guess. I mean, there’s supposed to be two really big parties, but neither one seems to care about pin-the-tail-on-the-pony, or musical chairs, or charades.”

“Oh, there’s plenty of charades going on,” the Mayor replied with a smirk.

“But I’m talking about the kind where ponies try to act out phrases written on pieces of paper. Those are the boring kind where ponies are trying to convince other ponies that they’re doing something even though they aren’t really doing anything. You know, like you’re doing right now.”

Mayor Mare was glad that she wasn’t facing the reporters at that moment, because her rather massive wince would have certainly piqued their interest in a less-than-desirable fashion. “Sadly, the downside of entering politics is that you often need to play games that aren’t very fun,” she eventually answered.

The conversation abruptly petered out at this point, mostly because Pinkie Pie was never particularly keen to discuss not having fun. After a few minutes of silence, she tapped her aunt on the shoulder. “Hey, Auntie Diane? The reporters have gone.”

The Mayor turned her head and saw that this was indeed the case. “I see. Well, I suppose they have deadlines to meet, and let’s be honest: Fluttershy is the pony they’ll want under a microscope.” She began walking back towards town, with her energetic niece following her lead a few seconds later.

“A microscope?” Pinkie asked as she caught up to her aunt. “Are they going to get some unicorns to shrink her?”

“I was speaking figuratively, dear,” the Mayor replied, peering over her spectacles at the ball of energy bouncing beside her.

“Aw, I hate figures of speech,” the ball said weakly, looking slightly deflated. “They always get my hopes up for something really neat, and then I end up disappointed when it’s something boring.” Pinkie’s gait slowed to a walk before she spoke again: “Um, Fluttershy’s going to be alright, isn’t she?”

The Mayor didn’t quite know what to make of this. “What do you mean, Pinkie?”

“Uh, well, I was just thinking...”

“Yes?”

“Fluttershy’s the one making all the hard decisions, right?”

“Obviously,” the Mayor answered with a small nod as she narrowly avoided tripping over an exposed tree root in the middle of the trail.

“Well, does that mean that she’s going to be criticized for it?”

The older mare sighed heavily before returning her attention to Pinkie Pie. “After she blew off that press conference? I’d say it’s pretty much inevitable. The only question is whether anypony will come up with a reason to be really nasty about it.”

August 31 – 9:12 PM

Derpy Hooves hated working the telegram kiosk. Naturally, she didn’t mind delivering the assorted messages that were telegraphed to Ponyville from all over Equestria—that wasn’t all that different from the parcel delivery service that The Pony Express had originally hired her to do. But having to spend hours behind a desk taking messages from customers, converting them into Horse Code, and then sending them off towards their destination was just plain dull, especially since few ponies needed PonEx’s telegram services at night in a town as small as Ponyville.

Derpy’s lazy eye drifted around the room as she rapped her hooves on the counter to simulate the sound of a gallop. Ordinarily, she would have been home this evening, but she had been called in to cover for the usual kiosk worker, who’d been called away by some big to-do that apparently required the participation of all the pegasi on the reserve weather team. The grey mare hadn’t asked for any more information, as she’d been too preoccupied attempting to find a last-minute sitter for her unicorn filly, Dinky. It just wasn’t fair. She had to sit in an otherwise empty room, while Flitter was probably having lots of fun and feeling really important at that very moment.

She was just about to pull out the copy of Daring Do and the Secret of Shetlan-Da she had stashed underneath the counter when her boss was looking the other way, when the sound of a bell over the front door alerted her to the presence of a potential customer. Derpy sat up as straight as she could and put on the most pleasant smile she could manage. “Welcome! How can I help you?”

The customer was a red pegasus stallion with a baseball for a cutie mark and a singularly disgruntled expression on his face. “I need to send a telegram to Cloudsdale. Rush delivery. Does this podunk town have the facilities for that?”

“Um, no, our office in Podunk only offers parcel delivery. But you won’t have to send it through there. We have a telegraph line directly to the Cloudsdale ground office!”

The stallion rolled his eyes. “So that’s a ‘yes,’ then?”

“That’s right, Mr...”

“Hard Hitter. I’m a journalist for the Cloudsdale—” Hard Hitter stopped himself right before he said “Cloudsdale Eye,” mostly because it was here that he noticed that only one of Derpy’s was pointed in his direction. “Uh, I mean, I work for the largest news gathering organization in Cloudsdale.”

“A journalist? Wow, they pay you to write a diary?”

It was a good thing that Hard Hitter wasn’t drinking anything at the moment; if he had, it probably would have ended up all over Derpy. “What? No! I write articles for the E—er, the newspaper.”

“Oh! So, you’re a reporter, then.”

“I am a journalist.”

“You are? So, what, are you saying that the diary thing is something you do on the side?”

“I don’t write a diary!”

“But you said you were a journalist...”

“Argh! Never mind. I’ll be sending that telegram to Cloudsdale now, if you please.”

“Okay!” Derpy said with a cheerful smile. “What’s the name of the recipient?”

“Greg.”

“Oh, is he a griffon?”

“No, he’s a pony. More specifically, he’s a friend of mine who’s well placed in the Department of Weather.” Hard Hitter looked especially smug as he said this. Apparently, he thought that his source in the DOW would impress the mare.

“Um... okay. What’s your message?”

“Calling in favor, stop. Suspect fog specialist’s qualifications, stop. Could be big, stop.”

After Derpy had read the message back and the stallion had paid his three bits for rush delivery service (grumbling all the while about overpricing), Hard Hitter left the PonEx office, and the mare got to work preparing the message for transmission. “Dash-dot-dash-dot, dot-dash, dot-dash-dot-dot...”

Author's Note

In case you were wondering, there is such a thing as a compound dislocation.
(Warning: That link is not for the weak of stomach.)

August 31 – 11:28 PM

As usual, Pencil Pusher immediately forgot whatever he’d been dreaming about the instant that he opened his eyes. This particular quirk of his subconscious had ceased to bother him long ago, mostly because the few dreams he could remember tended to be profoundly unsatisfying, consisting of him spending what seemed like hours almost (but not quite) achieving whatever goal he had at any given time. He much preferred being awake; reality, unlike the world of his dreams, at least offered him the possibility of avoiding disappointment and malaise. Well, in theory, it did.

Pencil Pusher blinked his eyes several times as he tried to figure out where he was, why the answer to the previous question was not ‘at home in his own bed,’ and why he’d woken up before sunrise. Within seconds, though, the sound of raised voices broke through that mental fog, and the explanations came rushing back to him: he was in the Ponyville library because he’d been too exhausted to fly back to Cloudsdale, and it was night outside because he’d gone to sleep in mid-afternoon. None of that was very important at the moment, though, because the shouting on the other side of the door came from rather familiar voices. He rose from the bed and, after narrowly avoiding tripping over a sleeping baby dragon, stumbled his way through the partially-lit library, suppressing the urge to let assorted curses fly from his lips as his shins banged into various items of furniture as he followed the voices, which eventually led him to the glow of Twilight Sparkle’s kitchen.

When he swung the door open, the first thing Pencil Pusher noticed was Rainbow Dash. She was flying all around the room, close to the ceiling, wearing what he assumed was the fog suit that had been mentioned in the previous meeting, although the section covering her head had obviously been removed, exposing her shaggy, multicolored mane. The five other Element-Bearers were present as well, though the Mayor had apparently returned to her day job (or more likely her bed). Fluttershy was sitting at the kitchen table with her forelegs crossed over her chest and an oddly stern expression on her face, while the rest were apparently trying to talk Rainbow Dash back into her chair.

“C’mon, Dash,” Twilight said with a note of desperation in her voice. “You can’t just start sulking again.”

“I am not sulking,” Rainbow Dash replied testily. “If I was going to do that, I’d be off on a cloud somewhere so I could avoid talking to Fluttershy, but I haven’t even left the room yet.”

“You have left your chair, though,” Pinkie Pie pointed out.

“Sugarcube, is this really the time to be arguin’ over word choices?” Applejack asked.

Rainbow Dash groaned in frustration. “Look, all I’m saying is that it isn’t fair to all the ponies who worked their flanks off tonight for her to call everything they accomplished a ‘failure.’” She hovered over Fluttershy as if she was subconsciously trying to look more authoritative and intimidating by forcing her friend to crane her neck upwards.

Fluttershy’s response, meanwhile, was calm and measured: “Rainbow, I’m not saying that they failed. It was the plan that was a failure, not them.” Even though Fluttershy’s voice didn’t even come close to the volume of Rainbow Dash’s, her unusually blunt demeanor made her words feel just as forceful, if not more so.

“Okay, fine,” Rainbow Dash said huffily as she retreated back to the other side of the table, though she continued hovering near the ceiling over her chair, refusing to land. “But you can’t call the plan a total failure, either. We may not have gotten rid of the fog, but we stopped it, didn’t we? Ponyville’s going to be safe until we think up a better way to get rid of it.”

“My job isn’t just to make sure that Ponyville is safe,” Fluttershy responded. “It’s to make sure that Equestria is safe, and right now, there are a lot of rock farmers who are stuck in a fog that’s so thick and so cold that they can’t leave their homes safely. Just because there aren’t as many of them, that doesn’t mean that they’re less important.”

“Yeah!” Pinkie Pie suddenly chimed in. “My family is important!”

Rainbow Dash looked distinctly uncomfortable as she landed back in her chair. “I... I know... I mean, I never meant to say that....”

“Um, is this a bad time?” Pencil Pusher asked, awkwardly inserting himself into the conversation.

Twilight Sparkle sighed and looked at him. “No, not really. In fact, we were about to see if you were awake. We’re discussing what happened this evening, and you’re likely to know what forms and reports need to be filled out.”

“Right... I take it from that little exchange that things didn’t go the way you expected?”

Fluttershy let out a sigh as all of her assertiveness suddenly drained away, leaving a pained expression on her face. “Not only did it not go the way I hoped it would, it didn’t even fail the way I hoped it would.”

“Hang on, Sugarcube,” Applejack said with concern evident in her voice. “Are ya sayin’ you wanted it to fail?”

“Um, no,” Fluttershy responded meekly. “But if the plan was going to fail, it wasn’t supposed to fail that way.”

“Could somepony please bring me up to speed here?” Pencil Pusher asked.

“Well, Mr. Pusher,” Rarity said diplomatically, “instead of causing the fog to dissipate, the bonfires ended up stopping its advance entirely, which, as Fluttershy just said, is unacceptable because it still poses a danger to ponies living north of the Unicorn Range.”

“It’s worse than that,” Fluttershy said as her voice grew more worried. “It means that I know even less about the fog than I thought I did.”

“How in tarnation did ya work that’n out?” Applejack asked, clearly confused.

“Um, well, up until now, all I really knew about the fog is that it’s made of cloud that’s been modified to last a long time in the desert, so I sort of assumed that that meant that it was heat-resistant. But if that was the case, then the bonfires would have either succeeded by raising the fog’s temperature past that resistance point, or they wouldn’t have done anything at all.”

“I can see why that would be frustrating,” Twilight Sparkle said, “but it doesn’t sound like something to lose heart over. That sort of thing happens all the time in the course of scientific inquiry.”

“Uh, Twilight?” Pinkie Pie said cautiously, “I don’t think Fluttershy has the time to do your science thing.”

Fluttershy nodded glumly. “I won’t make any progress with trial and error. At least, not fast enough to help the ponies who are still stuck in the fog.”

Rainbow Dash’s ears drooped pathetically as she spoke up again, this time in a much softer and more vulnerable tone of voice. “I guess I can see where you’re coming from when you put it that way. Sorry for exploding like that, Fluttershy. I was just worried that if you kept that attitude going, it might affect the volunteers’ morale if we need them again.”

“I understand,” Fluttershy said. “But none of the volunteers are here. Well, except for the ones I don’t have to worry about offending, that is. Still, right now I need to figure out some way to learn what’s actually been done to that fog.”

Pencil Pusher tentatively raised one of his hooves, feeling a bit like a colt in grade school. “Uh, if I may, I might be able to help you with that. There’s a relatively simple way to deal with the bureaucratic maze that’s preventing Caligo from sharing as much information with you as they might like.”

“Really?” Fluttershy asked as a trace of optimism flashed across her face.

Pencil Pusher nodded. “I was actually going to mention it in the last meeting, but for whatever reason, the conversation never reached a suitable point for me to bring it up. Basically, their insurance company is insisting that they can only reveal the formula to employees or their policy will be voided and the entire company will be in danger of going under. But if they were to hire you temporarily as a consultant, the insurance company has no grounds to back out of their contract just because Caligo tells you what they’ve actually done to those clouds.”

There was a brief pause as this information sank in. Twilight Sparkle was the one who broke the silence: “That’s actually quite clever.”

“Thanks,” Pencil Pusher said sheepishly. “I was the one who suggested it to them,” he added, hoping to Celestia that that didn’t make him sound like a self-important twit.

“I dunno,” Applejack said skeptically. “Sounds a little sketchy ta me.”

“I’m sure it seems that way,” Pencil Pusher said matter-of-factly, “but it’s no more sketchy than what the insurance company is doing. After all, the only reason they’re getting in the way in the first place is because they’re worried that they might actually have to pay out the policy if one of Caligo’s competitors gets their hooves on the formula.”

“Are you seriously saying that these ruffians at the insurance company are trying to keep Fluttershy from doing her job so that they won’t have to do their job?” Rarity asked indignantly.

“I suppose you could say that,” Pencil Pusher replied.

“I’m not sure about this,” Fluttershy said as she stared at a blank spot on the wall. “Couldn’t this get us into trouble?”

Pencil Pusher chuckled softly. “There’s nothing to worry about. Sure, it might make more idealistic ponies squirm a bit, but it isn’t as though I’m suggesting that you lie about anything—because that would be a serious problem. Um, are you feeling okay?” Over the course of his previous sentence, Fluttershy had somehow turned an even paler shade of yellow.

“Um, yes, I’m fine,” she answered, though she still looked rather ill. “Um, I suppose you have a point. I mean, I do sort of need that information, and as long as it’s legal...”

“Oh, it is,” Pencil Pusher said. “Caligo had a team of lawyers draft everything up in advance before I left Cloudsdale this morning. I’ve got everything in my saddlebag, and all you need to do is sign a few forms.”

“Oh. Er, okay, then. Why don’t you get them?”

Several minutes later, Pencil Pusher was shoving a folder of signed and dated paperwork back into his bag when Rainbow Dash spoke up. “Well, now that we’ve got that out of the way, I guess we’d better figure out what to do next, right?” It seemed that her previous apology had been enough to brighten her mood back to normal—assuming, that is, that she had been behaving “normally” around Pencil Pusher before. In fact, she had a decidedly eager glint in her eye.

“I take it you’ve already thought of an idea to propose, darling?” Rarity asked—apparently, Rainbow Dash’s friends had previous experience with that particular glint.

“Rain,” the weatherpony replied with a confident smirk.

After several seconds passed without further explanation, Applejack said, “Mind goin’ into some more detail for the rest of us?”

Rainbow Dash sighed. “Great, how do I explain this in laypony’s terms? Okay, you know how clouds are basically big ol’ blobs of water vapor? Well, rain is what happens when there’s so much water in the blob that the droplets of vapor start smacking into each other and growing until they’re full-blown raindrops. Once they’re big enough, they fall to the ground until the cloud isn’t thick enough to create more drops. You following me so far?”

Upon receiving a round of nods from the earth ponies and unicorns, Rainbow Dash continued: “Well, I’m thinking that if we saturate the fog to the point where it starts raining, it’ll drop a lot of its moisture. Even if it doesn’t go away completely, that ought to increase visibility and make it easier for pegasi to move through it without getting hurt. I mean, it’s not perfect, but it should make the fog safer, and that’s what’s important right now, you know?”

Fluttershy nodded slowly as she mulled over the proposal. She turned towards Pencil Pusher and asked him, “Do you know if this idea would, um, create problems?”

“Probably not,” he replied. “Extra cloud requests typically get expedited in emergency situations, though if you want to make sure, I can help move the process along when I head back to Cloudsdale to drop all these forms off at Caligo.”

“Oh, alright then. Um, Rainbow, when could we start this plan?”

Rainbow Dash thoughtfully rubbed her chin for a bit before she answered. “Well, this wouldn’t require anypony who isn’t on the normal weather team, though the reserves would probably help, but I told them all to meet me here at sunrise after we left the hospital.”

“Hospital?” Pencil Pusher asked.

“Oh, right,” Rainbow Dash said as she flew over to a folder lying on the kitchen counter and pulled out several forms. “Workplace injury. Fluttershy and I already filled out the paperwork. You, uh, wouldn’t mind dropping this off at the DOW, would you? It’s kind of important that it get taken care of quickly.”

A quick glance at the summary of Flitter’s injury (which included a helpfully vomit-inducing picture of one of her hooves) was enough to convince Pencil Pusher that this wasn’t just an attempt to pass off monotonous work to somepony else, like, say, every interaction he had with Greg while he was at work. “I might as well make sure that the plan to use the nonprofit isn’t causing problems while I’m at it.” While he was normally loath to suggest additions to his workload, that one was different, since it had actually been his idea to use the crazy human interest group in the first place. “Uh, that is, assuming you’re going through with this rainfall plan.”

Fluttershy let out a deep breath and nodded, which was Pencil’s cue to find his saddlebag and start extracting assorted blank forms for her to fill out to create an official record of her plan. He returned with a massive pile of paperwork and a smile on his face. He set the forms in front of Fluttershy and gave her a quill. “Okay, this should be pretty straightforward. Just sign here, here, here, initial here, sign and date here, sign here, here, here, and hoofprint here.”

“Wow...” Pinkie Pie said. “That’s a lot of forms to sign.”

“Actually, that’s just the first form. There’s about a dozen more, two of which need to be filled out in triplicate. Oh, and some of them need the signatures of witnesses, so I’ll need the rest of you to stick around until we’re done.”

Thirty minutes later, Fluttershy’s hoof was severely cramped from repeatedly signing her name, her friends (particularly Rainbow Dash) were bored out of their skulls, and Pencil Pusher was getting ready to fly north to Cloudsdale.

September 1 – 12:23 AM

When Hard Hitter entered the Dive Bomber bar located on Cloudsdale’s main thoroughfare, it didn’t take him very long to spot Greg; the pudgy, balding government employee was quite possibly the only pony in the establishment who looked like he was in a bad mood. Then again, there was a good chance that he’d been preparing to go to bed when the telegram had arrived at his door, and Hard Hitter had known Greg long enough to have learned how much he disliked being even mildly inconvenienced.

“You’re late,” Greg said gruffly as he set down his cider mug.

Hard Hitter sat beside the bureaucrat at the bar and ordered a Manehattan for himself and a second round of cider for Greg. “Sorry,” he replied. “That fog’s causing some odd shifts in wind patterns, and I got caught in a downdraft or two.”

Greg wasn’t really in the mood for small talk. “Was going to bed. What couldn’t wait?”

“It’s about the fog specialist. She refused to answer questions about her qualifications at her press conference, and I want to know why.”

Greg scratched his head. “Who is it? Haven’t paid attention.”

Hard Hitter rolled his eyes; Greg never seemed to pay much attention to anything that didn’t directly affect him. “Fluttershy,” he said.

“Oh, right. Element of Harmony. What do you want to know?”

“How did she get to be a fog specialist?”

“Filled out a form. Somepony rubber-stamped it. I don’t know. Not my job. Underlings’ work. I just make sure they aren’t slacking off.”

Hard Hitter took a swig from his cocktail before continuing the conversation. “I don’t suppose you can direct me to an underling who can actually tell me more about what’s going on, can you?”

“Depends,” Greg replied as he knocked back his cider. “What’s in it for me?”

Hard Hitter’s eyes narrowed into slits. “You know, for an overweight, middle-aged stallion, you pull off an evening gown quite well.”

Greg’s eyes widened with alarm. “You said you would keep that quiet as a favor!” he said in an agitated whisper.

“It was a favor. Now I’m calling it in.”

Greg glowered at the journalist for a second or two before he caved in. “Actually, one of the ponies under me is volunteering his time as the specialist’s liason. Pickle Barrel, or something like that. Not sure on the name, though. Basically a nopony. Total pushover. Should be returning to Cloudsdale soon. Something about working things out with Caligo. If you’ve got contacts there, they can let you know when he’s back.”

Hard Hitter smiled as he finished his Manehattan and rose from his chair. “Well, it looks like ‘Drag Racer’ was just an unfounded rumor. Sorry for troubling you, Greg.”

September 1 – 6:05 AM

Considering how important it was to Cloudsdale’s economic structure, not to mention the impact that the decisions made within had on everyday Equestrians, the Central Weather Office Building didn’t have a very prestigious-sounding name. Then again, it didn’t exactly look very impressive, either. Instead of grand columns and impressive flourishes, this was little more than a hollowed-out cube filled with bureaucrats and office furniture. That said, as he stood outside staring at the front door to his workplace, Pencil Pusher couldn’t help but feel a little bit intimidated. After all, there was a lot that needed to get done before his appointment at Caligo, and he wasn’t just trying to get to his next paycheck without a reprimand from Greg—he was trying to impress a mare.

For a few moments, he just stood there, taking several deep breaths. “All right, you stupid rectangle,” he said, twisting his neck to address the thin red line on his flank, “it’s time to work your magic.”

September 1 – 6:07 AM

“Hey, Pencil Pusher. Did you finally get off of ‘volunteer’ duty?”

Pencil Pusher rolled his eyes as he walked up to his coworker’s desk. “Laugh all you want, Cloud, but you’ve never met Fluttershy.”

Cloud Storage had a pale red coat and a black mane that was flecked with streaks of grey, and he had been the DOW’s head archivist since before Pencil Pusher had started working there. Pencil set the first of his bulging manila envelopes on the stallion’s desk. “Mind filing that away for me?”

“I take it from your tone of voice that it won’t be going under ‘Great Triumphs in Weather Management,’” the old pegasus said wryly as he opened the envelope and leafed through its contents. In theory, the Department of Weather filed away reports on all of its activities for future review, in case similar situations came up again in the future. In practice, the only ponies who ever read the darned things were journalists looking for easy accolades by uncovering government incompetence and the occasional office worker who needed to look like he was doing something important for an hour or two. “Do you need anything else filed away into oblivion?” Cloud Storage asked.

“Not in the archives,” Pencil Pusher replied.

The old stallion chuckled. “Oh, right. I suppose you’re going to have to drop off all of the specialist’s paperwork.”

“Not just that—I sort of promised that I’d do what I could to make sure it all got processed quickly. You know, to make sure that there aren’t any complications later on.”

“Well, good luck with that,” Cloud replied. “This mess is stressing out everypony here, so you’ll have your work cut out for you.”

“I was afraid of that,” Pencil Pusher said with a sigh. “You seem to be handling it well.”

“That’s just because I’m too old and jaded to care,” Cloud replied with another chuckle.

This time, Pencil Pusher joined him. “Heh... take care, Cloud.”

“Same to you!”

September 1 – 6:22 AM

“Look, Pencil, I get that the mare’s going to need some help, okay? But that’s true of most of the cases I deal with. This is Worker’s Comp, after all. I’m sure she can just sit tight for a bit until the paperwork goes through.” Sudsy Waters was a plump blue mare with a curly white mane who worked in the Department’s workers’ compensation division. She was normally quite cheerful for somepony who had to deal with miserable ponies all day, but it seemed that the stress being caused by the fog was getting to her, too.

In fact, on most days, Pencil Pusher would have accepted this explanation and moved on to his next task, but this was not most days. On this day, he’d promised Fluttershy that Flitter would get special treatment, and Fluttershy was single and cute. “Come on, Suds, can’t you make an exception? I mean, this fog is big news. If she doesn’t get the medical services she deserves, it’s going to leak into the press. They’ll have a field day.”

“They’ll also have a field day if it gets out that I let her jump in line just because she’s a high-profile case.”

“Can’t you just squeeze her in over your lunch break?”

“Are you kidding? That’s when The Young and the Flightless is on,” she said, gesturing to a nearby radio. “Exotica is due to come out of her coma any day now. I’m not missing that.”

Pencil Pusher bit his lip as he frantically tried to figure out how to change his coworker’s mind. However, a glance at the clock on the wall made this answer abundantly clear: if he was going to get everything done in time, he’d have to jettison his dignity and crank up the melodrama. “Oh, well, that’s alright, I suppose, it’s just that...” he trailed off, deliberately breaking eye contact with the mare to give the impression that he was becoming emotional (and to give himself a chance to glance over Flitter’s profile).

“What?” Sudsy asked with a note of concern in her voice as she unconsciously leaned forward.

“Well, the more time she spends waiting to get all the various procedures done, the longer she’ll have to go without working. And... well, she has a sister... and from what I’ve heard, the two of them are very, very close. But...” Pencil Pusher trailed off again, praying that Sudsy would fill in the blank with something tear-jerky.

“She needs to take care of her sister?”

“It doesn’t really matter what her sister needs her to do at the moment,” Pencil replied. “Not with her hoof in this condition.” He opened opened up the folder and pulled out the rather gruesome photograph of Flitter’s worst injury.

Sudsy clapped a hoof over her mouth. “Oh, Celestia, no! Does she... do they live on their own?”

“I’m fairly sure of that,” Pencil Pusher replied. “Her sister is the only family member listed here.” Granted, if Flitter’s parents had retired to Las Pegasus, they were unlikely to be listed as her emergency contacts, but actually pointing this out would probably break the mood.

“All alone with only her little sister,” Sudsy muttered softly to herself.

Pencil Pusher nodded. Cloudchaser may have been a fully-grown mare, but he was almost certain that he’d heard that she was the younger of the two.

Sudsy, meanwhile, looked over the form for a few seconds before she paused. “It says here that she may need skin grafts.”

“Well, she was pushed into a bonfire.”

Sudsy gasped audibly as her face contorted in anger. “Was her attacker arrested?” she asked with in an indignant tone that suggested that she would have readily joined whatever mob had rushed to Flitter’s aid.

This question took Pencil Pusher off guard a bit, but he managed to recover: “Huh? Uh, no. It was the fog that pushed her. She was injured in the line of duty, after all, doing her best to protect her friends and family.”

When the mare looked up and made eye contact again, she was blinking away tears. “Was she... was she beautiful?”

“She was,” Pencil Pusher confirmed with a somber nod, not bothering to mention that that hadn’t really changed. At least, he was pretty sure it hadn’t.

Sudsy’s words were beginning to be interrupted by audible sniffles. “Does... does her sister know?”

Pencil Pusher sighed. “I’m not sure if she’s been told yet.”

“But she can still fly, can’t she?” Sudsy asked, her voice becoming more earnest.

“Not while she’s in a hospital bed. As for the future, well, who can say?” Pencil Pusher stared at the floor as he worked up a few tears for added effect. “I just hope that she can hold out until all that paperwork gets filed....”

When he looked up, tears were streaming down Sudsy Waters’ face. She pulled the forms in front of her, and without a second thought slammed a large rubber stamp on to them. “She’ll have the money by this afternoon,” the mare said as she tried in vain to keep her lower lip from quivering. “I promise you.”

Pencil Pusher reached forward and gently patted the mare on her hoof. “Celestia bless you, Sudsy.”

September 1 – 6:34 AM

Pencil Pusher blinked as the first rays of Celestia’s sunrise shone through the window into Cardsharp’s cubicle. Normally, he enjoyed the company of the white pegasus stallion, though he’d long ago learned the folly of playing poker with a pony who had a royal flush for a cutie mark. Now, however, Cardsharp was as overworked and stressed-out as anypony else in the building, and unlike his poker games, his job allowed for very little tolerance of questionable tactics.

“Look, Pencil, I appreciate your efforts to make things easy on us in Pony Resources. I really do. But you can’t just make up a fantastic creature and create an alleged nonprofit around it and expect it to fly with the higher-ups.”

“I didn’t make it up. SPHERE was already in existence, and they agreed to help out. They’ve even got all the paperwork filed with the ERS to qualify as a nonprofit.”

“Uh-huh,” Cardsharp replied, unconvinced. “And how exactly does helping out the DOW have anything to do with these hoomin things?”

“It was part of a membership drive. They raise awareness of their cause while helping out the community.”

“Couldn’t they just pick up litter in a local park or something? Why would they volunteer for something complicated like this?”

“Um, well, I think some of them might think that humans had something to do with the fog in the first place.”

“And you didn’t bother telling them otherwise?”

Pencil Pusher scratched his head nervously. “Actually, I was asleep when most of this happened. Besides, some of them don’t seem like the type who’d let evidence get in the way of a good theory.”

“Oh, so they’re crackpots.”

“Not all of them! Just the ones who think humans are real.”

Cardsharp looked really confused at this. “‘The Society for the Prevention of Human Exploitation in the Realm of Equestria,’” he read aloud from the form. “Doesn’t that mean all of them would have to think that they’re real?”

“Er, not really. Some of them are opposed to the abstract concept of human exploitation, even if humans don’t actually exist.”

Cardsharp didn’t look impressed by this. He sighed and rubbed his temples. “Look, Pencil, I’d love to help you out, but my boss has really been clamping down on stunts like this. They want everything by the book now. Maybe if this was a legitimate group—”

“But it is legitimate,” Pencil Pusher interrupted. “I already told you that the ERS classified them as a nonprofit, didn’t I?”

“It still looks fishy enough to mean lots of headaches for me.”

“And filing information on eighty or so new volunteers won’t? At least this way, you only need to deal with one form.”

Cardsharp answered with a sort of noncommittal grunt that Pencil Pusher interpreted as a sign of progress. He moved in for the kill.

“Look, do this for me, and I can give a little boost to that request for vending machine upgrades for your department’s break room once everything settles down back in Requisitions.”

Cardsharp’s eyebrows slid up his forehead. “You mean we’ll get the kind that dispense hot drinks? No more bickering about whose responsibility it is to refill the coffee pot?”

“Maybe...” Pencil Pusher said with an exasperatingly coy smile on his face.

“Okay, you win,” Cardsharp said, rolling his eyes. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some work to do.”

September 1 – 6:48 AM

Pencil Pusher was extremely familiar with the requisitions division; after all, this was where he spent his time while performing his actual job: going through stacks of forms, approving or denying the use of resources to ponies he’d never actually meet. He’d saved the task of getting approval for the extra clouds to feed to the fog bank last, as he’d assumed that it would pose the least difficulty. Normally, this was the kind of task that Greg would blindly shove onto Pencil’s desk so that he could go back to doing whatever it was he did when he was alone in his office.

Unfortunately, this was anything but a normal day.

“No.”

Pencil Pusher blinked rapidly several times as he tried to process his surprise, which was partly due to the abrupt denial, but mostly due to the fact that couldn’t remember the last time Greg had made a decision like this himself. “No?”

“No,” Greg repeated.

Since no further information appeared to be forthcoming, Pencil Pusher then asked the obvious question: “Uh, why not?”

“Enough problems already without diverting resources. Clouds in the area should be enough,” Greg said curtly. The paunchy stallion scowled as he stared out of his office window. Clearly, Greg was feeling unusually irritable today, and something told Pencil Pusher that the rogue fog bank north of Ponyville was only partly to blame.

“But they’re trying to oversaturate the fog bank until it condenses to rain. Where are they supposed to get the clouds to do that?”

“Fog,” Greg said simply.

“Uh, okay... and how do they get clouds from the fog?”

“Carve them out.”

Pencil Pusher massaged one of his temples as he tried to formulate his response as tactfully as possible. “You think they should take clouds from the fog so they can put them back into the fog?”

“Of course.”

“Sir, if we could do that, wouldn’t it be easier to just spread out the clouds in the sky?”

“Even better idea. Tell the specialist to do that instead.”

“Greg, this is construction-grade cloud we’re talking about here. It doesn’t dismantle that easily.”

“She’s a specialist. If she can’t make fog break apart, it’s not my problem.”

“Actually, DOW guidelines say it is your problem, because right now, we’re all supposed to assume that she knows what’s best.”

“An airheaded model lucky enough to have powerful friends. That’s it.”

Pencil Pusher was not by nature an outspoken pony. Usually, he meekly put up with Greg’s stupidity, deeming it more trouble than it was worth to correct him. This, on the other hoof, was something else entirely. He slammed a hoof on his superior’s desk, looked him squarely in the eye, and said, “Look, Greg, I don’t know what your problem is, and what’s more, I don’t really care. Right now, I’m working for Fluttershy, and my job is to make sure she gets what she wants. And the fact remains that the fog specialist wants more clouds, and she has the authority to get more clouds, so whether or not she actually needs them is beside the point. If you don’t want to approve it, I can just head upstairs and talk to your boss about it.”

Greg seemed to freeze in place; his mouth was hanging open, as though he’d been about to begin dressing down his insubordinate employee. For several seconds, he stared at Pencil Pusher, as if he couldn’t decide whether the bureaucrat had just made a legitimate threat.

For his part, Pencil Pusher didn’t wait for his boss to regain enough of his faculties to formulate a response. Instead, he stood up, walked to the office’s door, and pushed it partway open. “Your boss’s name is Fussbudget, right?” he asked, turning his head back towards his boss. When no answer came, he opened the door completely and stepped out of the room.

“Wait!”

Pencil Pusher had never won an argument with his boss before. It was a very satisfying experience.

September 1 – 7:03 AM

There was a broad smile on Pencil Pusher’s face as he descended the stairs into the Central Weather Office Building’s lobby. It was hard not to, given that he’d just experienced the most unequivocally successful fifty-eight minutes of his entire life. Everything had gone more or less as he’d hoped it would, and he’d dealt with the few setbacks he’d encountered with relative ease. He’d even gotten to hear Greg whimper like a scared little colt on his first Nightmare Night, which was totally worth the extended misery his boss would doubtless subject him to once this fog business had cleared up. Best of all, there was still plenty of time to get to his next destination before his meeting with Jasmine Breeze.

He exited the building with a notable spring in his step, trotting merrily out into the sidewalk. After glancing around to make sure that nopony was watching, he looked at the thin rectangle on his flank once again. “Okay, cutie mark,” he whispered. “You win this time.” With that, he took off towards the headquarters of Caligo Manufacturing.

September 1 – 7:04 AM

The Cutie Mark Crusaders awoke to both good news and bad news. The bad news was that the fog was still there, and the adults in Ponyville seemed to be noticeably stressed out as a direct result (also, Apple Bloom wasn’t getting any dessert for a week as punishment for “bein’ sneaky”). However, the good news (which in their opinion far outweighed the bad) was that this meant that there was still a need for their human trap, which in turn meant that their maddeningly elusive cutie marks were at long last within their grasp.

Of course, that made unforeseen problems all the more infuriating—for instance, when they made their initial plans, the three fillies had never expected to tangle with labor disputes. Nonetheless, the hamster whom they’d surreptitiously “borrowed” from Fluttershy was being remarkably intractable, and the fact that he’d had the foresight to contact a negotiator to hammer out the details of the arrangement didn’t make things any easier.

“Ugh, look, Angel, I don’t see why this has to be so complicated,” Scootaloo said. “We’re offering food, water, and shelter. What more does Mr. Shnookums need?”

Undeterred, Fluttershy’s pet rabbit lifted a piece of white posterboard and pointed to the symbol that he’d drawn there, tapping it repeatedly to emphasize his point.

“He wants a stick with a pair of wings and two snakes wrapped around it? Isn’t that kind of dangerous? I mean, snakes eat rodents, right?” Scootaloo looked longingly out of the clubhouse window. Even though the heat was already becoming uncomfortable, even at this hour, she’d much rather have been out there with Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom building the trebuchet, but she’d been too slow on the draw when it came time to declare herself “not it.”

Angel simply rolled his eyes and looked briefly to where Mr. Shnookums was sitting inside a hollow pink plastic ball, almost as if he was asking his client for more patience, and then he turned his attention back to the pegasus filly, letting out a long stream of annoyed squeaks and grunts.

“C’mon, Angel, I don’t speak rabbit,” Scootaloo said with a rather irritated glare. “Not everypony is like Fluttershy, after all.”

Scootaloo had absolutely no idea what the odd facial expression that appeared on the bunny’s face meant, nor could she figure out why he suddenly hopped out the clubhouse door, leaving his client behind. However, when he returned to the clubhouse followed by a rather confused looking hen, whom he “introduced” with a sweeping flourish of his paws, Scootaloo let out a groan. “Please tell me that’s a stupid attempt at a joke, and that you don’t actually think I can speak chicken.”

When Angel’s response was to awkwardly shift his weight back and forth while avoiding eye contact, Scootaloo smacked a hoof into her forehead. “This is going to be a long morning....”

September 1 – 7:38 AM

Ponyville’s weather team hadn’t fully assembled for the morning’s operation when the clouds arrived at the base of the mountains. Fluttershy just stared at the approaching delivery of a dozen massive globs of greyish-white vapor, all contained in equally massive nets that were being pulled through the air by teams of pegasi.

“Um, Rainbow Dash?”

“What is it, Fluttershy?” answered her friend, who was standing next to her. Rarity had already sewn Rainbow Dash back inside her silver fog suit, and had planned to spend the morning at Douglas Fir’s cabin in case she needed to take any “breaks.”

“Uh, well, it’s not, you know, critically important, but... why haven’t I ever seen clouds being delivered like this before?”

Rainbow Dash smirked. “Because usually the deliveries happen at night so all the clouds are there in the morning. I’ve had to help out with daytime deliveries once or twice. Wasn’t too bad, but I can’t imagine working the third shift to do it every night. Still, I hear the pay is good. A lot of weather ponies start out doing it to get their hoof in the door, actually. They do it for maybe a year until they get the experience to get transferred to a job where they can actually have a social life. Anyway, enough small talk—I think somepony’s flying down here to see you.”

Indeed, no sooner had Rainbow Dash finished her statement when a light purple pegasus mare with a short, green mane landed in front of them. “Are you Fluttershy?” she asked.

“Um, yes, I am,” Fluttershy responded uncertainly, “and this is my friend, Rainbow Dash.”

The mare blinked a few times as she stared at the silver-clad pony for a few seconds. “Whoa, Dashie. Never knew you were into that sort of thing.”

“Hate to break it to you, Climate, but you’re hardly the first pony to try that one.”

Fluttershy looked rather surprised. “You know each other?”

“Of course,” Rainbow Dash said. “Fluttershy, this is Climate Change, the lead weatherpony for Canterlot and its suburbs.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” Climate Change said, extending a hoof.

“Um, likewise,” Fluttershy replied as she extended her own hoof and timidly bumped Climate’s. “I, uh, guess that these clouds are for us?”

“You got it,” Climate Change replied. “We got the order to transfer them to Ponyville by telegram about a half-hour ago. Lucky for you guys Canterlot was scheduled for a massive thunderstorm this afternoon, otherwise you’d have to wait until they could be shipped from the Weather Factory. These should be enough to hold you over until the first shipment from Cloudsdale gets here.”

Fluttershy nodded absently. “Thank you. Um, I’m sorry about the inconvenience.”

Climate Change laughed out loud. “Oh, you wonderful, idealistic specialists. I hope you guys never change. Listen, we’ve had thunderstorms held up for much longer periods of time, for far stupider reasons. Trust me, we can handle this pretty well.”

It was around this time that the first of the draft teams drove a rather large stake into the ground, to which they then tied their cloud-net. “So,” Climate said genially, “want to inspect the shipment?”

Fluttershy would have very much liked to do so, but she wasn’t entirely sure what to look for. “Um, Rainbow Dash? Do you think these clouds will work?”

“Hey, you tell me,” Rainbow Dash replied with an awkward smile. “You know fog better than I do.”

Of course, the fact that Rainbow Dash had made this comment nonchalantly didn’t change the fact that it was actually a very good point, and as such Fluttershy needed to keep her friend from dwelling on it if she was to stay out of the clutches of the Equestrian Revenue Service. “I suppose that’s true,” Fluttershy answered in what she hoped was an equally easygoing tone, “but it’s not often that anypony attempts to deal with fog this way, and you have more experience with rainmaking.”

Fortunately, desperate wishing seemed to be effective this time. “Eh, I guess you have a point there.” Rainbow Dash flew up to one of the nets and removed a small chunk of cloud, batting it back and forth with her tail as she evaluated its properties. “A bit more static electricity than I’d like, but I guess that’s to be expected with thunderheads. Yeah, it’s good.”

“Well,” Climate Change said, “then all I need is a signature, and I’ll be on my way—unless you need me for something else, since you’re apparently the absolute ruler of the DOW until further notice.”

“Oh, um, of course,” Fluttershy said awkwardly as she searched for a pen. As the pony flew back towards Canterlot, Fluttershy turned to Rainbow Dash. “I guess the weather team should get started, then.”

“You got it, boss!”

September 1 – 8:11 AM

Pencil Pusher was still riding high from his success at the Department of Weather as he entered Jasmine Breeze’s office in Caligo’s headquarters for the second time and placed a stack of forms on the androgynously-named stallion’s desk. “There you go. Fluttershy’s set up to become a consultant. All that’s needed is Caligo’s approval.”

The executive didn’t answer directly; instead, he started rifling through the paperwork, nodding in approval as he looked over the completed forms. “Yes... everything seems to be in order.” He looked up and made eye contact with his guest. “I can’t thank you enough, Mr. Pusher. Your idea has made an extremely awkward situation much easier for us to manage.”

As Pencil Pusher was not accustomed to receiving credit for his own ideas (at least not the good ones), he was a bit taken aback by this praise. “Oh... uh... you’re welcome, I guess.”

“You have no idea how much of a relief it will be to walk into the next meeting with the board of trustees with something positive to report.”

“I can imagine,” Pencil Pusher replied. “I bet the guys at the insurance company won’t be pleased when they hear about this.”

“Oh, they already know,” Jasmine Breeze said with a dismissive wave of his hoof.

“Really?” Pencil asked. “How’d they take it?”

“Pretty well, considering the circumstances. I think they were too impressed with the creativity behind the idea to get angry.”

“But doesn’t their company risk losing millions of bits if they have to pay off your policy?”

“Of course they do. That’s why they took out a reinsurance policy against having to pay it.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” Pencil Pusher said. Two seconds later, he changed his mind. “Hang on! If they’re insured against paying off your policy, why did they raise such a fuss in the first place?”

“More than likely it’s because the reinsurance policy doesn’t cover everything they’d owe us if we made a claim. Also, their premiums would rise.”

Pencil Pusher let out a long sigh. Insurance companies were a completely different breed of bureaucracy than what he was used to, and without firsthoof knowledge, even his special talent could only go so far in piercing their murky depths. “Anyway,” he said, getting the conversation back on track, “do you have the information, or does your legal department need to go over these forms?”

“No, I’m authorized to expedite the process,” the executive replied as he began signing several of the forms. Minutes later, he’d pulled open one of his desk drawers and placed a thick, sealed envelope in front of Pencil Pusher. “Everything that Ms. Fluttershy needs to know should be in there. I assume you’ll be delivering it yourself?”

Pencil nodded. “I figure the fewer times it changes hooves, the better.”

“You’re absolutely right on that count. And for the love of Celestia, don’t let that seal break before it gets to her.”

“Right,” Pencil said with a nod as he placed the envelope in his saddlebag. “Still, with any luck, this data won’t be necessary. The Ponyville weather is going to start on a new attempt to disperse the fog this morning.”

“Oh?” Jasmine Breeze said as he began drinking from a plain, white porcelain mug of coffee. “It’s good to hear that the specialist isn’t sitting on her haunches,” he remarked between sips. “No offense, but our past experience with government employees has been... mixed at best.”

Pencil didn’t seem to mind this sentiment. “None taken.” After all, his boss was a pretty good example of exactly the kind of pony Mr. Breeze was talking about.

“Mind if I ask what the plan is?” continued the executive.

“It’s fairly ingenious, actually. They’re going to add clouds to the fog to try and make—” Pencil Pusher halted in mid-sentence as he scrambled away from the spray of coffee that erupted from Jasmine Breeze’s mouth.

“What did you say?!”

Author's Note

In case you were wondering, I am aware that technically, Angel should have drawn a picture of a normal stick with one snake wrapped around it. However, I'm from North America, where, accurately or not, the caduceus has been associated with medicine for more than a century.

September 1 – 8:12 AM

Even though the weather team had spent much of the previous day removing the humidity from the region around Ponyville, Celestia’s sun was already hot enough to make that accomplishment feel completely irrelevant. The fact that Rainbow Dash was flitting back and forth across the southern edge of the fog bank like a hummingbird in her fog suit did little to make them feel better, since the reflective silver fabric (and the fact that she could periodically duck inside the cool, dark fog) at least gave her some relief from the ever-growing heat. Still, most of the weatherponies knew better than to grumble about their boss while she was in the midst of barking out orders.

“Come on, ponies! The sooner we get this done, the sooner everything can get back to normal.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure we’ll be out of here in no time,” Thunderlane said sarcastically as he stopped pushing a particularly energetic puff of storm cloud towards the fog to wipe some sweat from his forehead. “After all, we’ve got more than enough cloud on hoof to seed the biggest fog bank any of us has ever seen.”

Rainbow Dash sighed; Thunderlane had been her unofficial second-in-command for quite some time, which meant that he was far more fearless in voicing his dissatisfaction than the rest of his coworkers. “Look, it doesn’t have to rain all at once. Once we get this section raining, the north winds will push the rest of the fog into the rain, which will keep up until it’s too thin to keep precipitating.” The final word in that sentence was enough to keep Thunderlane (and by extension, most of the regulars) quiet, since Rainbow Dash generally only used weatherpony jargon with her team when she wasn’t in the mood to argue.

The reservists, however, were a different matter entirely. “Ow!” shouted a rough male voice as the scent of ozone filled the air. “Why can’t we use normal clouds?”

Rainbow Dash didn’t personally know the burly brown pegasus stallion with a wooden crate for a cutie mark, but she felt quite sure that this level of whining over a relatively minor lightning mishap ought to be grounds to revoke his perma-stubble privileges. “We’re using storm clouds because they’ll make the fog rain faster. Now quit your bellyaching!”

Meanwhile, on the ground below, Fluttershy nervously tugged on her cravat.

“It’s best not to tighten it too much, darling,” Rarity said as she glanced up from her book. The fashionista had tagged along in case Rainbow Dash’s fog suit needed “periodic upkeep” (which was the euphemism she had taken to using in place of “letting Rainbow Dash out of her suit so she could use the little filly’s room”), but had otherwise decided to use the opportunity to pretend that she and Fluttershy hadn’t missed their weekly spa appointment. Granted, sitting on a chaise longue and reading the latest bodice-ripper from the celebrated pen of Ruffled Feathers wasn’t really comparable to getting a massage from Aloe or Lotus Blossom, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“Oh, I know,” responded Fluttershy (who really looked like she could use one of those massages), “but I’m still nervous. What if this doesn’t work?”

“Well, then you’ll simply form a new plan, of course. After all, by then, Mr. Pusher should be back with that information you need from the manufacturer, correct?”

Fluttershy sighed and smiled weakly. “I suppose that’s true. There’s probably nothing to worry about.”

September 1 – 8:12 AM

“Well, how’d it go?” Sweetie Belle asked as Scootaloo trudged back from the clubhouse. She and Apple Bloom had been waiting in the clearing that had been designated as the staging ground for the trebuchet for nearly fifteen minutes.

Scootaloo, however, didn’t seem to hear the question; instead of responding, she launched into a tangentially-related rant. “I don’t see why those stupid animals can’t just learn to talk normal. This is Equestria! Speak Equestrian!”

“Um, I’m not sure that they can,” Sweetie Belle said with a note of apprehension in her voice. “I think it has something to do with their vocal cords.”

Scootaloo, however, was in no mood to discuss zoology. “Thirty minutes,” she said, pausing briefly for dramatic emphasis. “It took me thirty minutes to figure out that Mr. Shnookums wanted a comprehensive health care plan, and another twenty minutes to bargain him down to paying for a trip to the vet if anything goes wrong. It wouldn’t have been so bad if that hamster hadn’t gotten Angel to negotiate for him, though. I mean, Angel kept pushing for full dental coverage, and he refused to listen when I tried to explain that this was just a temp job!”

“Well, now ya know why Sweet Apple Acres only hires family members,” Apple Bloom called out from beside the trebuchet, where she was inspecting the various support beams.

“But do we have our hamster?” Sweetie Belle said, hoping to circumvent any further rants about the inconvenience of labor relations.

“Yeah, Shnookums is on board,” Scootaloo said wearily. “All I can say is that we better get some cutie marks out of this.”

“Sounds ta me like somepony needs some cheerin’ up,” Apple Bloom said. “How ’bout we test out the trebuchet?”

“It’s finished?” Scootaloo asked.

“Yep,” Apple Bloom replied as she gingerly patted the catapult with her hoof. “At least, I’m pretty sure it is. I figure a couple of test shots oughta let us know if everything’s workin’ the way it’s s’posed ta. C’mon, we’ll even let you take the first shot.”

Scootaloo looked genuinely touched by this gesture. As she lifted a hoof to her face to wipe away a drop of sweat that had made it all the way to her eye and was most definitely not a tear, she said, “You guys are the best friends anypony could ever ask for,” and pulled the other two fillies into a tight hug.

It was only when she released them a few seconds later that Scootaloo asked the most pressing question: “So, what are we going to use for ammo?”

Apple Bloom slowly looked around the orchard. “Well...”

September 1 – 8:14 AM

“Well?!” Bon Bon shouted as she gesticulated wildly in the general direction of the apple in the middle of her living room, still surrounded by shards of glass from her now-broken window. “How much more evidence do you need?!”

Lyra took a slow, deep breath and tried to address her friend’s concerns as diplomatically as possible. “Bon Bon, are you certain you aren’t jumping to conclusions here?”

“Of course I’m jumping to conclusions, because there isn’t anything else to jump to! The humans have clearly announced their warlike intent by firing the first shot as a warning. The invasion has begun, Lyra, and we need to call an emergency meeting of SPHERE immediately so we can start distributing weapons.”

“Weapons? Like what?”

“Oh, you know, knives, scissors, knitting needles... um... and other pointy objects which I might think of later. Speaking of which, you should really consider sharpening your horn for self-defense.”

“What the— It’s a horn, not a pencil! Not only would filing it to a point hurt like nopony’s business, my ability to use magic could be permanently damaged. And what’s even more important, I don’t think you’re right about the apple.”

“Oh, come on, Lyra, are you seriously going to argue that ponies chucked this into my window?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course it was the humans who did it. However, I happen to think that this was intended as a demonstration of their goodwill.”

“Goodwill? Since when is property damage a sign of goodwill?”

Lyra, however, shook her head. “You’re assuming that the property damage was intentional. For all you know, the wind threw off their aim. What’s important is that they didn’t send a weapon, like a bomb or something. They sent food. One does not offer apples to somepony one wishes to harm.”

“Unless they’re poisoned apples,” Bon Bon countered.

Lyra rolled her eyes. “Okay, now you’re just being difficult.”

Bon Bon slumped onto her couch. “Listen, we’re getting nowhere with this conversation. What we need is somepony who’s completely impartial, but is willing to actually take what we say seriously.”

Three seconds later, the answer came to both ponies simultaneously: “Pinkie Pie.”

September 1 – 8:15 AM

As Pencil Pusher couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen anypony shift from calm to panic as quickly as Jasmine Breeze, he was inclined to assume that getting back to Fluttershy really was as important as the executive had claimed. In his effort to exit the headquarters of Caligo Manufacturing as quickly as possible, he nearly tripped over his own hooves while rounding a corner in the labyrinthine hallway. This happened three more times before it occurred to Pencil that, as a pegasus, he could avoid this problem by hovering above the floor. Unfortunately, this was not the only obstacle he’d have to deal with before getting outside.

“Excuse me, sir, are you Pickle Barrel?”

Pencil suppressed a groan as best he could as he continued to make his way towards the office building’s lobby. He had never met this particular stallion before, but he recognized his reddish-brown coat and baseball cutie mark from the times he’d visited Greg in his office. A reporter of some sort, if he remembered correctly. Pencil Pusher didn’t know his name, and at the moment, he didn’t really care. There were far more productive things for him to be doing at the moment than acquainting himself with Greg’s friends. “Sorry, that isn’t my name.”

“But you do work in Requisitions at the Department of Weather, right?”

Pencil Pusher sighed. “Yes, I do, and I’m very busy right now.”

However, the stallion refused to be brushed off so easily, and flew directly in front of Pencil. “Hard Hitter, Cloudsdale Eye. I was hoping for a moment of your time.”

“Pencil Pusher,” the bureaucrat reluctantly replied. “I don’t really have much time at the moment,” Pencil said absently. “I need to get back to Ponyville.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I’m acting as the liaison to the fog specialist. Now, please get out of my way.” Pencil Pusher finally managed to squeeze around the reporter and make his way to the staircase.

Unfortunately, Hard Hitter had decided to use the “pester your subject with questions until they give you something worthwhile” strategy that day. “Well, perhaps you can tell me about the specialist, then,” he called out as he caught up with Pencil Pusher in the main lobby.

“She’s already a public figure. I doubt I could add anything to the mix,” Pencil replied, doing his best to avoid eye contact.

“But how did she get the position? It seems a little odd that an animal caretaker and a former supermodel would stoop to being a mere fog specialist in her spare time, after all.”

Pencil Pusher didn’t bother suppressing a groan this time. He stopped moving and glowered directly at Hard Hitter. “Look, I don’t know what you’re trying to get at, but it doesn’t matter. I’m positive that Fluttershy wouldn’t be listed as a fog specialist if she didn’t have the prerequisite qualifications. But if you really think that there’s some sort of funny business going on, you can just head to the DOW archives and have a look at her file, which I’m fairly certain is open to the public. If anything fishy was actually going on, that’s where you’d find your evidence. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a job to do.” Pencil Pusher didn’t wait for a response, and took off southwards, towards Ponyville.

Hard Hitter just stared at the grey stallion as he flew farther into the distance. “But... you were supposed to be a pushover....”

September 1 – 9:23 AM

The plan to make the fog rain out had moved forward with relatively few hiccups in its first hour, and Rainbow Dash was feeling particularly optimistic about its chances for success—though part of that optimism might have stemmed from the fact that she was the pony who’d suggested it to Fluttershy in the first place. The weatherpony had just emerged from her seventh excursion inside the fog when she heard a familiar voice.

“Um, Rainbow Dash?”

The silver-clad pegasus wheeled around to see her temporary boss hovering behind her and rubbing her hooves together nervously. “Oh, hey, Fluttershy. Is there a problem?”

“Um, not really. I’d just like to know how the plan’s working out, that’s all.”

“Oh, okay. Well, things are going pretty good, all things considered.” Rainbow Dash waved a forehoof in the fog bank’s general direction as she continued, “As you can see, the section of the fog that we’re feeding is getting pretty dense, and it’s darkening up nicely. It shouldn’t be too much longer before it starts raining out.”

“I see,” Fluttershy said as she rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Do you have any idea how long it will take before we know if it’s working?”

Rainbow Dash chuckled apprehensively at this particular question. “To be honest, I’m pretty sure the rain would have started already if this was a normal cloud. It’s not really a problem, though. There’s still plenty of storm clouds left for seeding, and if it doesn’t start on its own, we can try a series of synchronized bucks to give it some encouragement. That sound good to you?”

“Well, uh, I can’t think of any reason not to try it,” Fluttershy said.

“Cool,” Rainbow Dash said. “I’ll start figuring out where its weak points might be.”

September 1 – 9:50 AM

As soon as Lyra and Bon Bon had explained the situation to Pinkie Pie (which had taken considerably longer than expected—they had interrupted each other constantly, as neither wanted to let the other have the advantage of molding Pinkie’s first impressions), the pink earth pony had wasted no time before rushing over to Bon Bon’s home. Well... she didn’t think she had wasted any time, but the other SPHERE members clearly believed that the hour she’d spent scouring her room for a briefcase full of strange chemicals and doodads had been largely unproductive.

“Uh, Pinkie?” Bon Bon asked as her friend started to spread white powder around her house.

“Yeah?” Pinkie said absentmindedly.

“What are you doing?”

“Dusting for prints.”

When no further information was forthcoming, Bon Bon asked the obvious question: “Why?”

“So I can find them. Prints are really hard to see if they haven’t been dusted, you see.”

Lyra scratched her head. “Uh, but nopony touched the apple before it came through the window.”

“I know. That’s why I haven’t bothered dusting it. Ooh! A hair! Hey, Lyra, can you get the tweezers from that briefcase?”

Thirty seconds later, Pinkie Pie was sealing a dark blue hair inside a clear plastic bag. “This is definitely a clue.”

“Actually, that hair is probably mine,” Bon Bon said. “I mean, it does match my mane perfectly.”

“We’ll let the lab techs decide that.”

“You have a lab?”

“Uh, no, but Twilight does, and she’s pretty good about analyzing clues. Have I told you about the time the Cakes asked me to guard their entry in a dessert contest?”

“Pinkie, you’ve told everypony that story,” Lyra said. “Multiple times.”

“Well, then you know Twilight’s just the pony to figure out whose hair this is.”

Bon Bon briefly considered protesting, but she decided that it would be futile. Instead, she let her friend continue to “investigate” her home.

“Oh, my gosh!” Pinkie suddenly gasped.

“What is it?” Bon Bon asked as she trotted into the room where the pink pony was crouched.

“When I turn on my fancy flashlight, there’s a glowy splotch right here on the floor. See?” And indeed, when the painfully bright bluish bulb was lit, there was a suspiciously irregular stain on Bon Bon’s floor that was otherwise invisible.

“What does that mean?” Lyra asked.

“Um... I’m not sure. I couldn’t find an instruction manual when I borrowed this stuff from Twilight. But in the detective stories I’ve read, glowy splotches are almost always clues!”

Bon Bon sighed. “Well, given that you’ve wandered into my kitchen, it’s probably residue from candy that I dropped onto the floor at some point.”

“Aw...” Pinkie Pie said. “Are you sure it isn’t blood? The best clues are the bloody ones, because that usually means something gruesome happened.”

“Uh, Pinkie?” Lyra asked. “What does this have to do with the apple?”

“Oh, nothing, really,” Pinkie Pie said nonchalantly. “I just wanted to try out this cool stuff.”

“Okay, so why not use it on the apple?” Lyra asked.

“Because I don’t need to use it on the apple to figure out where it came from.”

Bon Bon sighed. “Pinkie, we already know it came from the humans—”

“Don’t be silly. It came from a pony, or possibly a donkey, zebra, or griffon.”

Lyra didn’t seem convinced. “How do you figure that?”

“If the humans are hiding in the fog, they won’t have access to apples. It’s in rock farming country, remember?”

“Oh, yeah...”

“That said,” Pinkie continued, “it seems to me that whoever chucked this apple through your window...” Pinkie paused to pull a pair of sunglasses from the briefcase and put them on.

“...is rotten to the core.”

“YEEEEEAAAH!!!”

Pinkie, Lyra, and Bon Bon turned their heads towards the broken window, where a white pegasus stallion with bulging muscles and undersized wings hovered. “Thanks, Bulk!” Pinkie said cheerfully.

“Don’t mention it,” Bulk Biceps replied before flying off towards the fog bank.

September 1 – 10:41 AM

Pencil Pusher hadn’t really had a chance to get a good look at the fog bank during the previous night’s flight, but during his third flight to Ponyville, things at least looked like they were starting to improve, though something told him that the executives at Caligo would probably bust a gasket if they heard anypony suggest such a thing. It seemed to be taking longer to actually reach the fog bank, and fog itself looked at least a little bit thinner, so there was definitely a chance that things were working out despite the worries of Jasmine Breeze. That said, Pencil was in no mood to take any chances, and he continued to fly south at a brisk, steady pace.

This turned out to be a wise decision, because it wasn’t long at all before the fog was as thick as ever, and possibly even more menacing since it now appeared to be covering most of the Unicorn Range, which, now that he thought of it, looked considerably larger in the light of day. His mind started to drift as the greyish-white mass zipped along underneath him; he still had quite a way to go before he needed to start his ascent over the mountains. At least this mess would all be over soon. If the current plan didn’t work, then surely Fluttershy would come up with the right one once she had all the relevant information at her hooves. Then he would never have to make this three-hour flight again... no, wait, that wasn’t right. After all, if Fluttershy actually agreed to go out with him, he’d need to make at least one more trip. And what if things clicked, and something more serious happened? Was he really willing to commute such a long distance just to be with a cute mare? No, but Fluttershy was so much more than a cute mare. The real question was whether he was physically capable of pulling it off. But then again—

Pencil’s train of thought abruptly derailed as one of his forehooves was snagged by the fog’s uneven surface, pitching him forward and nearly causing him to lose control. “What the heck?” he said aloud even though he knew perfectly well that there was nopony around to hear him. “How did I drop so much altitude without noticing?” It didn’t make sense; at the height he’d been flying at, he should have noticed an increase in the temperature, especially since today was scheduled to be quite warm, but right now, despite the lack of air movement from his transition to flying to hovering, he still felt somewhat chilly—

Pencil Pusher leapt skywards once again as the fog bumped into his hooves again. One minute previously, he’d been at least one trot higher than the fog’s surface, and this time, he was certain that he’d been maintaining his altitude, so how could the fog possibly have bumped into him a second time?

His puzzlement continued for some time before he glanced back at the Unicorn Range. Now that he thought of it, not only did the mountains look taller, they seemed to be significantly closer to Cloudsdale than they were supposed to. Suddenly, it hit him: he wasn’t looking at fog-shrouded mountains; he was looking at mountains made of industrial-strength clouds. In other words, the fog wasn’t dissipating; it was starting to pile up.

“I... I need to get moving.” Without further delay, Pencil Pusher resecured his saddlebags and began his ascent over the fog, moving as fast as his wings could carry him.

September 1 – 11:11 AM

Rainbow Dash’s decision to start looking for bucking points had turned out to be far more prudent than she’d ever expected. “This is ridiculous!” she said to herself in between barking orders to members of her team. “We’ve been seeding that thing all morning! It ought to be dense enough to be a solid blob of water,” she continued with only a small amount of hyperbole. “It should have been ready to burst a long time ago.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that,” Thunderlane replied flatly. The black pegasus stallion had been waiting for his boss to give him orders for several minutes now. “That’s why you were going to tell me where to buck the darned thing, remember?”

“Huh? Oh, right. Um, why don’t you head over to that pass?” she said, gesturing westward. Rainbow Dash had decided to have her regulars do the bucking while the reservists continued feeding clouds into the fog bank. “There’s definitely some concentration about twenty trots from ground level. Shouldn’t be too hard to find.”

“Roger that. So, what’s the signal?”

Rainbow Dash groaned. “Ugh, I knew I forgot something. No way everypony will be able to hear my whistle with the way they’re going to be spread out. Okay, change of plan: you head into town and find a bullhorn for me to use. I’m pretty sure that Pinkie Pie...” Her voice trailed off as she noticed something high in the air, near the top of the fog bank. “What the hay is that?”

“That little grey blur?” Thunderlane replied as he craned his neck to get a better view. “I don’t know. Think a piece of the fog broke off?”

“I guess it could be... but it’s moving awfully fast for a stray cloud. Er, hang on,” Rainbow Dash said. “Change of change of plan: you tell Fluttershy about this, and I’ll go investigate.”

Rainbow Dash took off, flying along the surface of the fog bank as she tried to get a better view of the unknown object, but whatever it was, it was descending far too quickly to be falling. As she got closer, she was able to make out the familiar motion of flapping wings, which made it obvious that this was a pegasus who was apparently flying as fast as possible over the fog. But why? Was this a thrillseeker of some sort? Rainbow Dash could understand that kind of mindset, of course, but this hardly seemed seemed like the time for that sort of thing.... Hold on. Isn’t that that bureaucrat who’s been helping Flutter—

Rainbow Dash didn’t get a chance to finish her thought before Pencil Pusher plowed into her, knocking her for a loop and causing her to fall down through the fog. Rainbow Dash began to flap her wings rapidly to regain her altitude, but the fog was so thick, and the collision was so jarring, that the normally exemplary flyer couldn’t tell which way was up.

Fortunately, this problem fixed itself when she slammed into the ground. “Ouch...” she moaned as she slowly got to her hooves. Once she determined that her legs and wings were still functioning properly, she looked around to determine the fate of the other pony. Of course, since she was in the middle of an abnormally thick fog, this didn’t really work. “Hey! Pencil Pusher! Can you hear me?” When no response came, Rainbow Dash briefly considered which ponies she could spare for a search party, but she soon thought better of it. Pencil Pusher hadn’t been wearing a fog suit, and at the speed he’d been flying, he probably would have bounced off of the surface of the fog, rather than sinking into it.

“Ugh... looks like somepony needs to hear a lecture about the dangers of reckless flying.” Luckily for Pencil Pusher, Rainbow Dash had heard several dozen over the years.

September 1 – 11:13 AM

Pencil Pusher didn’t have much time to properly identify the multicolored blur that had slammed into him, mostly because his flight trajectory was a bigger concern. He barely had time to register that it had changed from “in the general direction of Fluttershy” to “uh, down-ish, I guess?” before he crashed into the surface of the fog. Pencil hadn’t flown this fast since his days as a benchwarmer on the junior varsity flight team, which was actually rather fortunate, since the impact temporarily compacted the fog, which bounced him back out into the air instead of enveloping him in its mists. What was significantly more unfortunate was the fact that all the extra exertion had made him feel rather lightheaded, which in turn made reorientation rather taxing.

Eventually, he managed to clear his head—just in time to collide with an isolated white object on the ground.

September 1 – 11:14 AM

Fluttershy rubbed her hooves together nervously as she flew back and forth over Rarity’s chair, making various whimpers that clearly signaled her vague sense of unease to anypony who might be in hearing range. Regrettably, this category included Rarity, who was not very appreciative of having her mind continually distracted from images of a sophisticated city mare falling for a simple (yet unquestionably hunky) country blacksmith, especially since the two characters were getting close to the section of the story that was completely inappropriate for foals (i.e., “the good part”).

Eventually, the fashionista was left with no choice but to turn down the corner of her page and set her novel aside. “Is something the matter, Fluttershy?”

“Oh, um, no, not really. I mean, besides the massive fog bank that looks like it’s getting bigger and hasn’t gone away yet and it’s going to ruin everything and it’s all my fault—”

“Would you like me to fetch my fainting couch for you?” Rarity asked drolly.

“Um, no, that’s alright,” Fluttershy said as she landed. “I’m just a little nervous, that’s all.”

“That’s perfectly understandable, but I daresay you’ll need to find a more constructive way to deal with your emotions. After all, other ponies are looking to you for your leadership.”

Fluttershy stared at the ground. “That’s because I’m the fog specialist, so I’m supposed to know everything.”

“Darling, I know you’re troubled by the situation, but it isn’t as though the answers are just going to fall out of the sky.” Apparently, fate had grown tired of that particular figure of speech, as it chose that particular moment to knock Rarity onto the ground in the most ironic way possible.

“Urgh...” Pencil Pusher groaned as the dust cloud around him started to settle down. “That was... unpleasant. But at least I landed on something soft this time.”

Something soft, on the other hoof, had a rather different take on the matter. “Would you kindly get off of me?! And watch where you’re putting those hooves!”

“Yipe!” Pencil Pusher lept back into the air, giving Rarity the chance to survey the damage that comes from having an out-of-control pegasus smack into your side and grind you into the dirt as he skids to a halt.

“Ah! My coat is completely soiled! It seems that I will have to make a trip to the spa today. And my mane! I spent a solid forty-five minutes getting it just so, and now it looks like I just rolled out of bed... and into a pigsty,” she added as she plucked some of the larger clumps of dirt out of her mane with her magic. “I swear, if I end up with split ends over this, so help me...”

Concerned though he was by Rarity’s ominous mumbling, Pencil Pusher still had a job to do. “Do you know where I can find Fluttershy?”

“I’m right here, Pencil.”

The stallion froze as he heard Fluttershy’s voice. She called me “Pencil....” Fortunately for his professional reputation, Pencil Pusher managed to drag his mind back to matters of more immediate concern. “Fluttershy, I’ve got the formula from Caligo here,” he said, silently thanking Celestia that the thick envelope hadn’t fallen out of his saddlebag in all of the chaos.

“Oh, thank you very much,” Fluttershy said nervously as she accepted the surprisingly heavy package. “I’ll have a look at it later.”

“Um, actually, you might want to have a look at it now,” Pencil Pusher replied uneasily.

“Why?”

“Well, I’m not sure, because you’re the only one outside of Caligo who’s authorized to read the formula, but the executive seemed to think it was really important that I get this to you as fast as I could. As in, ‘no time to think about how you’re going to stop’ fast.” Pencil Pusher hoped that the last sentence would be enough to make his crash landing seem heroic, rather than pitiful.

Fluttershy was about to open the envelope when she suddenly froze. “Oh, I just realized; they probably won’t want me to read this where anypony else might see it. Um, do you two mind if I go off by myself for a bit?”

Given the way Rarity was glowering at him, Pencil Pusher did indeed mind, but he wasn’t really in any position to do anything about it. “You’re the boss, Fluttershy.”

“Okay,” Fluttershy answered with an uncertain nod. “If anypony needs me, I’ll be in that grove of trees over there,” she said before flying off to finally learn just what she was up against.

There was an awkward silence for about thirty seconds before Pencil Pusher broke it. “So, uh, how has your morning gone?”

In retrospect, this was not the smartest way for Pencil Pusher to strike up a conversation with a mare who was obviously irritated with him, as Rarity proceeded to launch into a highly detailed screed about her activities that morning, making sure to point out precisely how he’d ruined her efforts with his carelessness. Somewhere around the ten minute mark, however, it started to get tedious.

“...and I brushed each lock of my mane fifty times before setting it with Pomade’s Mousse. Have you any idea how many bits that costs?! And then, of course, I had to repeat the process with my tail—are you yawning?!”

“Huh?” Pencil Pusher asked as he quickly moved his hoof away from his mouth. “Uh, sorry.”

“Sir, I am a lady in the middle of a diatribe! How dare you not give me your full attention!”

“Look, Miss Rarity, with all due respect, I basically got your point a while ago. I should have paid more attention to where I was flying.”

“You’re darned right you should have!” shouted a new, rougher, and even more irritated voice. Pencil Pusher turned his head and saw Rainbow Dash, flying towards him with a scowl to match Rarity’s.

For her part, Rarity’s attention immediately zeroed in the most pertinent detail. “My goodness! What happened to your fog suit? It’s all scuffed!”

“Yeah, that sort of thing happens when you accidentally fly into the ground after getting knocked for a loop by a high-speed desk jockey. Mr. Pusher here collided with me over the fog bank while he was making his descent.”

“More irresponsibility! Do you know how long it takes me to help Rainbow Dash get that suit on in the first place?”

“Is... is it really that important that the suit be shiny?” Pencil Pusher asked.

“Of course! Do you really think I’d let one of my friends wear something that hideous if it wasn’t absolutely necessary?”

Pencil Pusher sighed. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I just really needed to get that cloud formula to Fluttershy as fast as possible.”

“Whoa! Easy there, loverboy,” Rainbow Dash said. “I know you’re all excited to give it a shot, but I think Flutters is a bit busy at the moment.”

“That’s right,” Rarity said, “you can’t just think of y—hang on. ‘Loverboy’?”

Pencil Pusher groaned as Rainbow Dash explained, “Oh yeah. Mr. Bureaucrat here is hoping that by going the extra mile, Fluttershy will be so impressed that she’ll agree to a date.”

“A date?” Rarity asked. “That’s it?”

“Well, it’s not just that,” Pencil Pusher said awkwardly. “I mean, Fluttershy seems really nice, and if there’s something there, I wouldn’t mind, you know, something more long term. But you’ve got to start somewhere, right?”

Rarity didn’t answer right away, but then again, she didn’t really need to say anything. The fact that her skeptical scowl had morphed into an ecstatic smile in an instant was enough to convey exactly how she felt about this. “That... is... the most fabulously wonderful thing I’ve ever heard!” she shouted, galloping over to Pencil Pusher and squeezing him in the tightest hug she could manage.

“Ugh... can’t... breathe... Rainbow Dash... help....”

Rainbow Dash, however, had doubled over in an obvious effort to suppress peals of laughter. That said, the brief flashes of eye contact she made with Pencil Pusher convinced the stallion that this was precisely what she’d hoped would happen when she let Rarity in on his secret.

Rarity, meanwhile, had already begun giving advice. “Now, for the most part, I think you’re going about this the right way; if you’re too aggressive, you’ll just kill the relationship before it has a chance to truly blossom, especially since her experience with that motivational speaker has made Fluttershy overly sensitive to hyper-assertiveness. That said, you’ll definitely want to make the first move, since she’s definitely the type of mare who’d enjoy being swept off her hooves, though preferably not by crashing into her.”

“But that was—”

Rarity, however, didn’t even pause to let her new protégé get a word in. “Now, given that you don’t exactly have a draft pony build, you’ll no doubt need to use charm and wit as you win her over. Fortunately for you, I’m the most charming and witty pony I’ve ever met, so I can coach you in that department. If you own a thesaurus, I suggest you start memorizing it. The more synonyms you know, the more cultured and erudite you’ll sound.”

“So... Fluttershy likes the intellectual type?” Pencil Pusher asked.

“Er... well, I’m not sure. She doesn’t really discuss her taste in stallions very often—though I am fairly certain that she is indeed interested in stallions, so you’ve definitely got a good head start on that front.”

Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “Look, Pencil. You know how there’s this stereotype about mares who ignore nice guys and go for bad colts instead?”

“Yeah,” he replied, his ears drooping forlornly.

“Well, Fluttershy has absolutely no interest in bad colts whatsoever. She wants a nice guy.”

Rarity’s eyes widened. “She told you that?”

“No, but she didn’t have to. In all the time I’ve known her, the stallions she’s shown the most interest in have always been nice guys. The problem is that most of those nice guys were almost as shy as she is, so nothing ever got started. Bad colts, on the other hoof, just make her nervous.”

“Are you sure?” Rarity asked. “She does seem to get along with some rather intimidating animals at times.”

“Yeah, so? I’m talking about ponies here,” Rainbow Dash said.

Pencil Pusher decided to enter the conversation again. “So, what are you saying? I should be myself?”

“Well, yeah. After all, if you—”

“Rainbow Dash!” The three ponies’ heads all turned as Fluttershy flew back into the clearing.

“Oh, hey there, Flutters,” Rainbow Dash said. “Is everything—”

“There’s no time to explain! We need to stop seeding the fog right now, before it’s too late!”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“The fog... we’re only making it worse!”

September 1 – 11:25 AM

Hard Hitter was in a rather foul mood as he sifted through a stack of files in the Weather Department’s archives. Somehow, his normally flawless technique of badgering an interviewee with aggressive questions had failed, and his efforts to convince himself that what’s-his-name had directed him to the archives so that he could “leak” information about Fluttershy without technically “leaking” anything had fallen rather flat, as the past two hours hadn’t produced anything that was even remotely scandalous.

Sure, there were quite a few things that were unusual, most notably the fact that, despite having been certified as a fog specialist two years earlier, this was the first time that Fluttershy had been called into active service. Hard Hitter had been all but certain that this was evidence that she’d been using her pull as a celebrity to snag a high-profile job over other, more qualified ponies, but when he ran this idea by the archivist, the old stallion merely chuckled derisively and explained that the more experienced specialists were legitimately unavailable.

Without any juicy internecine squabbling to uncover, the intrepid-yet-stymied reporter had been reduced to going through lists of certification records, hoping that Fluttershy’s entry would show some evidence that something inappropriate had been going on. This might not have been so bad were it not for the fact that there were so few fog specialists that their records were lumped in with every other miscellaneous expert who’d applied for certification over the past few years. And though it would have been a coup to discover that Fluttershy’s qualifications were, in fact, nonexistent, verifying it would mean having to spend even more hours checking and double-checking to make sure that there hadn’t been any oversight, and by the time Hard Hitter was done with that, the public’s interest could easily have moved on elsewhere. More importantly, though, using that method to prove his suspicions was boring.

Also, it was irrelevant, because Hard Hitter somehow managed to spot Fluttershy’s name in that bureaucratic morass. At first, it appeared to be another dead end: all of the appropriate information was present, with nary an asterisk to indicate that any chicanery had gone on. Hard Hitter groaned in frustration and was just about to close the file when he glanced again at the entry and suddenly froze. He scanned the words which had caught his attention, silently mouthing them as he mentally worked through their implications. As he did so, the corners of Hard Hitter’s turned upwards into a vindictive smile.

Perhaps this story had wings, after all....

September 1 – 12:02 PM

After several hours of rigorous testing, the Cutie Mark Crusaders declared their trebuchet to be an unequivocal success. Well, that’s what Sweetie Belle had wanted to call it, since “unequivocal” was on the list of vocabulary words that they were supposed to have studied during the summer, but Scootaloo flatly rejected the idea of connecting any aspect of the human trap to something as dull as their education. In any case, the trebuchet had been safely hidden away underneath a canvas tarp in time for them to break for lunch.

They’d returned to the shade of their clubhouse to escape the midday sun so they could assemble another key part of their trap. This was a fairly simple toy that Scootaloo’s mother had made for her when she was just a toddler who needed to be kept occupied on a rainy day. It consisted of a paper clip with one end bent around an empty sewing machine bobbin, with the other end curved to form a hook. Scootaloo’s mom had then weighed the toy down by putting large buttons on the hook and placed the bobbin on length of twine that had been stretched out across the room, creating a miniature zipline.

Apple Bloom brought the twine, Scootaloo brought the paper clips, and Sweetie Belle brought the buttons and bobbins, and, after some trial and error, they’d produced a gizmo that was not only well-balanced, but strong enough to allow Mr. Shnookums to take several test runs for his new employers (though the hamster seemed disappointed to learn that this would not actually be part of his job when the trap was finished). There was, however, one tiny detail that still needed to be settled.

“Sorry, Apple Bloom,” Sweetie Belle said with a short sigh, “but I’m with Scootaloo on this one. It only makes sense to call it a thingamabob, since the whole thing is made using a bobbin.”

“But it’s shaped like a fishin’ jig,” Apple Bloom countered. “There’s a hook, and it’s even on a line. Besides, why are those things even called bobbins in the first place?”

“Rarity says that folks thought they made a sound like ‘bobbin, bobbin’ in the first sewing machines.”

“Aw, come on, she probably just made it up ’cuz she don’t know herself.”

“Look, don’t be a sore loser, Apple Bloom,” Scootaloo said as she lifted Mr. Shnookums up for his seventh run on the zipline. “I was right, and you were wrong. Just leave it at that, and we can move on to the next part of the trap.”

As much as Apple Bloom wanted to keep the argument going, she had to admit that Scootaloo had a point. They still needed several hard-to-acquire parts for their trap—most notably an anvil. They really needed to figure out the best way to get their hooves on one of those, because it wasn’t like one was going to fall from the sky.

That sort of thing only happened in cartoons.

September 1 – 12:09 PM

After the abrupt end to the morning’s efforts, Fluttershy’s friends had all gathered in the library for another strategy session, joined once again by Pencil Pusher, although this time Spike had been tasked with guarding the door, ostensibly to make sure nopony eavesdropped on the sensitive information that would be discussed, but mostly to prevent any ponies from needlessly interrupting them. If they were going to come up with a solution, their full concentration would be necessary, which meant that they didn’t have the luxury of engaging in esoteric quibbles.

Unfortunately, somepony had forgotten to tell this to Fluttershy, whose concentration seemed to be focused with the most extreme precision on not discussing anything. She hadn’t been the one who called this gathering—that had been Rainbow Dash’s idea. Fluttershy had wanted to get home as fast as she could and hide underneath a pile of blankets until the heat death of the universe made the fog completely irrelevant. Indeed, if Twilight Sparkle and Rarity hadn’t been trying to make conversation with her while Rainbow Dash fetched Pinkie Pie and Applejack, she probably would have tried to sneak away.

Sadly, with escape so cruelly denied to her, Fluttershy had little recourse but to enter a semi-catatonic state, sitting on a chair near the flight of stairs that led up to Twilight Sparkle’s bedroom and silently rocking her torso back and forth as she stared at a knothole on the wooden floor and resolutely refused to have any sort of discussion whatsoever. There were far more pressing matters than the fog that she needed to think about, such as where she could go if she needed to make a break for freedom by flying out of one of the library’s windows.

Her friends, on the other hoof, were beginning to get annoyed. “C’mon, Fluttershy, we’re trying to help you out, here,” Rainbow Dash said as she hovered over her friend with a ragged edge to her usual raspy voice.

“You can’t,” Fluttershy responded as she continued teetering on her haunches, her forelegs curled tightly across her barrel. Her motion had been constant for nearly ten minutes, with the only interruptions coming in the form of spasmodic flaps of her wings, like a persistent nervous tic.

“Well, I suppose that’s technically true,” Rarity remarked. “That being said, we may be able to help you if you tell us what is going on.”

“That’s right,” Twilight Sparkle agreed. “The first step to overcoming this setback is to make sure that everypony here knows just what the setback is.”

Fluttershy didn’t even bother to cease her swaying to make eye contact as she answered, “I can’t tell you that. I’m not allowed to tell anypony, and I’m in enough trouble as it is.” She started nervously tugging at her cravat, which was starting to become loose from all the fidgeting that she’d done.

Pencil Pusher awkwardly coughed to clear his throat. “Well, actually, I believe that the agreement you signed only covers the process that Caligo used to make the clouds in the first place. You should be safe telling us what’s going on, as long as you don’t go into too much detail about why it’s happening.”

This, at least, finally got Fluttershy to stop rocking and look away from the floor. “But how do I do that?”

“Just avoid talking about pegasus magic, and you’ll be fine,” Rainbow Dash said. “Er, right?” she added, casting a sideways glance at Pencil Pusher.

“More or less,” the bureaucrat confirmed with a nod.

Fluttershy leaned back in her chair and slowly rubbed her face. She supposed that there was little point in continuing to delay the inevitable. She inhaled deeply and steeled what little remained of her resolve as best she could. “Okay... well, you know how these clouds were meant to be used in the desert?”

“Yeah,” Rainbow Dash replied.

“Well, what makes them valuable is the fact that they can last for a long time in hot, dry conditions. Eventually, any cloud will dry out if nothing’s done to it, but clouds with more moisture take longer to dissipate. So Caligo’s researchers found a way to stop the clouds from raining, which means you can keep feeding fresh clouds into it, and they’ll only get stronger, and once they reach their maximum density, they simply repel any additional clouds that come in contact with them.”

“Hold up there,” Applejack said from her seat near Twilight’s kitchen door. She stood up and started walking towards Fluttershy as she continued speaking. “I thought these clouds were all compressed in their containers when this mess happened in the first place. If they’re so goshdarned strong, why’d they spread out?”

“The clouds are sort of like cement,” Fluttershy said. “They need to set before they’ll hold their form.”

“And how long until this fog sets?” Rarity asked.

“It already has,” Fluttershy answered, half-wailing in despair. “That’s why the fog stopped when it hit the bonfires.”

“No way,” Rainbow Dash replied. “It couldn’t have happened immediately. Otherwise, the fog would have been so consistent that there wouldn’t have been a clump to knock Flitter into the fire. Plus, I could easily spot weak points this morning, so it can’t be over just yet.”

Somehow, Fluttershy didn’t seem to think there was much point in being optimistic anymore. “It’s over. I failed. There’s nothing I can do!”

“Why are you being so silly, Fluttershy? Silliness is my job!” Pinkie Pie said. “Your job is to figure out how to deal with the fog. And I know you can do your job, because you’ve been doing a really good job at your job so far.”

“That’s right,” Applejack said. “You’ve faced worse things than this before, and you’ve always come through. This ain’t a full-grown dragon, and it ain’t Discord. It’s fog! Okay, granted, it’s some mighty weird fog, but you’re a fog expert. Ain’t no reason you shouldn’t be able to come up with something. I got faith in you, Fluttershy. We all do.”

Fluttershy started rocking back and forth. “You really shouldn’t,” she said in a strained voice.

Rarity smiled warmly as she said, “There’s no need to be modest, darling—”

“I’m not being modest,” Fluttershy interrupted with a panicked look in her eyes. “I mean you really shouldn’t have faith in me. There’s absolutely no reason why anypony should.”

By now, all the ponies in the room were more than a little unnerved. “Why not?” Pinkie Pie asked.

“Because... I... I’m not really a fog specialist!”

September 1 – 12:13 PM

Fluttershy buried her face in her hooves. She was too ashamed to make eye contact with anypony else in the room, but she didn’t have to. She could feel the anger and resentment burning through the damning silence as her friends passed their dreaded judgement on her crimes. At least it would all be over soon, though the fate of her animal friends still hung in the air. Perhaps—

“Um, Fluttershy?” Applejack asked in obvious puzzlement. “Mind runnin’ that by us again?”

Of course she wanted to hear it a second time. After all, what pony in their right mind would ever think Fluttershy was capable of such craven fraudulence? “I’m not really a fog specialist! I’ve been lying the whole time but now everything’s ruined and I’m going to jail and you all hate me!” Fluttershy cried out, covering her head in case one of her ex-friends lost control and decided that physical violence was in order (because it probably was).

“Um, Fluttershy?” Pencil Pusher said tentatively. “What are you talking about? You’re on our files as a certified fog expert. I know; I’ve seen them myself.”

Somehow Fluttershy’s ears managed to droop even lower as she looked up at the poor, naïve bureaucrat who’d been going the extra kilotrot for her for nearly two days now. She couldn’t really blame the stallion for attempting to deny the obvious; if she’d invested as much time and energy into a project like this as he had, she’d make desperate attempts to stave off the cold, harsh reality as well. “I’m sure it looks that way, but... but did you see where I took my certification classes?”

“Well, no...” Pencil Pusher tapped his chin as he tried to recall what Fluttershy’s file actually said. “But I really don’t see how that would make a difference.”

“Wait a minute,” Rainbow Dash said. “How did you get that certification? There aren’t any colleges in the area, and somepony would have noticed if you were away from home for hours at a time.”

Rarity gasped. “Fluttershy, are you saying that you faked a course?!”

“That’s impossible,” Pencil Pusher said. “In order to be certified, you have to take the course at an educational institution that’s been accredited by the Department.”

“Which is why it doesn’t count in my case,” Fluttershy admitted. “I... I took a correspondence course. I never left my home.”

“Uh, Fluttershy, that sounds like a matter of semantics, not a moral failure,” Twilight Sparkle said. “Many institutions offer quality education through the mail.”

“Maybe... but I got my course from Five-C.”

Twilight would have asked Fluttershy what “Five-C” was had Rainbow Dash’s wincing groan not cut in: “A Central Cloudsdale College Correspondence Course? Are you kidding me?!”

Applejack raised an eyebrow at this outburst. “I take it this here school ain’t exactly the Manehattan Institute of Technology.”

“It’s your standard-issue diploma mill,” Rainbow Dash with a dismissive wave of her hoof. “They’ve got ads all over Cloudsdale. Save money, get your degree from home, that sort of thing. What they don’t mention is that those degrees aren’t worth the paper they’re printed on... or at least that’s what I thought.” She turned her attention over to Pencil Pusher. “How the heck did Five-C end up getting accredited by the Department?”

Pencil Pusher, for his part, had an oddly disgusted look on his face, as though he’d accidentally stumbled across an open sewer. “That’s... a really good question, actually,” he finally answered. “They didn’t let you take the certification test at home, did they?” he asked Fluttershy.

“Yes,” Fluttershy replied sadly. “I mean, I had to contact a notary public to come to my house so I could take it. You know, so they could verify that I followed the Department of Weather’s rules.”

“Oh,” Pencil Pusher said, looking relieved. “Well, if a licensed notary administered the test, then that shouldn’t be a problem. You see, regardless of what you learned from the course, the actual certification test is standardized. The Department of Weather developed it, and we’re also the ones who grade it.”

“So she really is a specialist after all!” Pinkie Pie proclaimed. “This calls for a party!”

“Uh, maybe later would be a better idea, sugarcube,” Applejack advised. “We still got other things to worry about, even if this problem’s behind us.”

Fluttershy, however, was having none of this optimism; she suddenly burst into tears, much to everypony’s surprise. “It... it doesn’t matter if the certification’s valid,” she managed to say in between shudders. “Even if... even if that’s true, it still doesn’t change the fact that I’ve... been cheating on my taxes.”

Finally, her friends were showing an appropriate display of shock, instead of bewilderment. “What?!” the shouted in unison.

Fluttershy nodded sadly; it was almost a relief to hear her confession generate the indignation it so rightly deserved. She wiped the moisture from her eyes and did her best to regain her composure long enough to tell the whole, ugly truth. “I’ve been writing off the utilities on my home because I read that fog specialists are allowed to do that, but you don’t actually need to live on the ground to be a fog specialist, so it’s not really a business expense. I was just trying to make ends meet and support my animal friends, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m a tax cheat, and I’m no better than a common criminal!”

There it was again. That harsh, unforgiving silence, judging—

“Er, Fluttershy, that’s not cheating,” Rainbow Dash said as she awkwardly scraped a hoof across the library floor. “In fact, you kind of did exactly what the government hoped you would.”

The urge to shed tears was suddenly gone, mostly because this claim was so blatantly ridiculous that Fluttershy was too busy trying to make sense of it to feel sorry for herself. “Why would the government want me to commit fraud?” she eventually asked, her face finally mirroring the bemusement of her friends.

Pencil Pusher sighed. “Fluttershy, are you familiar with the concept of a tax incentive?”

“Um, I think I’ve heard of it. I’m not certain what it means.”

“It’s never come up in discussions with your accountant?” Pencil asked.

“I’ve sort of been doing my own taxes for the last few years, because... well, I guess it’s obvious why.”

“Oh, I can explain it!” Pinkie Pie shouted enthusiastically as she waved her hoof in the air. “Pick me! Pick me!”

Although she was almost completely certain that Pinkie had no accounting experience, Fluttershy was still curious about what the pink earth pony might have to say on the subject. “Um, okay...”

“A tax incentive is when you don’t have to pay as much money to the ERS because you’re doing something super-duper awesome!” Pinkie grinned broadly as she finished.

“That’s... reasonably close to a standard definition,” Twilight admitted. “How do you know about that, Pinkie?”

“Because the Cakes found out about a loophole that reduces their property taxes to next to nothing, all because they’re housing a public servant. That’s me, by the way.”

“What?!” Applejack cried out. “How come nopony told me about this? If bein’ one of the Elements of Harmony means I count as a ‘public servant,’ that’ll cut down on the farm’s expenses like nopony’s business.”

“Aren’t you already doing that?” Pinkie Pie asked as she scratched her head. “I mean, Big Mac was the one who told the Cakes about it in the first place.”

Applejack seemed stunned to learn this. “Huh... I really oughta talk to him more often during tax season.”

“Wait,” Rarity said, “we’re allowed to use that loophole if we’re housing ourselves? Perhaps I ought to have a discussion with Macintosh as well....”

Fluttershy wasn’t certain how the conversation had morphed into a discussion of Applejack’s brother, especially since the fact that she was a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad pony seemed to be much more pertinent. “But why would the government let ponies write off so much money on their taxes just because they’re fog specialists?”

“Because we need fog specialists,” Rainbow Dash said. “Like, really badly.”

Pencil Pusher nodded. “If you’ll recall, when we first met, I told you that the reason the Department put you in charge is because you were the only available specialist, and I wasn’t exaggerating. The shortage has been bad for years.”

“But why?” Fluttershy asked.

“Because under normal circumstances, ‘fog specialist’ is one of the most boring and thankless jobs in the whole DOW,” Rainbow Dash said, “and it requires specialized knowledge that most pegasi don’t want to get, because most of them don’t like being at ground level unless they have to. I’m pretty sure that the idea behind the loophole was to encourage pegasi who already have a vested interest in ground-level weather to consider becoming specialists on the side, or something like that. And in your case, it worked perfectly.”

“You sound unusually well-versed in Equestrian tax law as well,” Rarity noted.

Rainbow Dash, however, shrugged it off. “Actually, most of that was from a pamphlet all the lead weatherponies got a while back. We were supposed to tell any pegasi we knew who lived on the ground about the specialist thing, but I sort of procrastinated and never got around to telling Fluttershy,” she said with a slight blush.

“Well, there you go,” Twilight Sparkle said cheerfully. “Not only have you not been doing anything illegal, but your actions aren’t even unethical, since the government tried to publicize the loophole in the first place.”

Fluttershy felt like crying again, but this time out of frustration, rather than despair. Why didn’t they understand? This wasn’t about whether her actions were legal or illegal (at least, not any more it wasn’t), this was a matter of compromised principles. “But none of that changes the fact that I thought I was cheating on my taxes. I was trying to do something illegal!”

“And you failed spectacularly, darling,” Rarity said as she flipped a hoof through her mane.

Pinkie Pie nodded vigorously in agreement. “That’s right! If you’re going to be bad, it’s better to be bad at being bad, and you’re so bad at badness that you actually managed to do something good!”

“Um...” Fluttershy said, clearly not following her friend’s reasoning.

“I think what Pinkie’s tryin’ to say is that your actions are more important than your intentions,” Applejack said as she pushed her hat up her brow. “I mean, sure, the fact that you tried to be a tax cheat is a problem, but we can deal with that later. Right now, there are more important things to worry about, like that massive fog bank sittin’ on the other side of the mountains. Besides, it sorta sounds like the government managed to fool you into bein’ a good citizen anyway, so becoming a qualified fog specialist is sorta like your community service, if you think about it.”

Fluttershy sighed and stared at her hooves again, which were now rubbing each other with small circular motions. “I... I guess you have a point. And I suppose I should be relieved that I won’t have to find somepony to take care of my animal friends, but...”

“Oh, come on!” Rainbow Dash said as she smacked her forehead with a hoof. “There’s another reason we’re supposed to think you’re a bad pony?”

“Well, I suppose this wouldn’t technically make me a bad pony. It’s just that I’m not really qualified to be a fog specialist.”

“Darling, we’ve already been over this,” Rarity said. “You’ve already passed the test.”

“But it was a fluke!” Fluttershy insisted. “The notice in the mail said that my test score was only ‘Acceptable,’ and I had to answer all of my questions from my personal experience, since the course hadn’t really taught me anything! I can’t possibly know everything I need to know about fog to do a job like this.”

Twilight Sparkle gasped. “‘Acceptable’?! Oh, no!” There was look of genuine panic in her expression as she rushed over to Fluttershy and nearly poked her in the forehead with her horn in an effort to make uncomfortably close eye contact. “How far off were you from the top of the grading scale?”

“Uh, actually,” Pencil Pusher cautiously cut in, “that is the top of the grading scale. The test is a simple pass/fail: if you get more than three-quarters of the questions correct, you’re certified. For all we know, Fluttershy answered every question correctly.”

Far from being relieved, the yellow pegasus looked like she was about to burst into tears again. “But... but I’ve been worrying about this for the past two days! I must have done something wrong!”

Pencil wasn’t quite sure what to make of this. He never expected that a fashion model with the confidence to get away with picking her nose on the runway would have this many self-esteem issues. Eventually, though, he decided that this didn’t matter. After all, if he’d spent two days convinced he was facing jail time, he’d probably assume that a simple solution was too good to be true as well. “The only thing you’ve done that could be considered ‘wrong’ was the decision to try to make the fog rain out, and that’s just because you didn’t know enough about it to make an informed decision at the time. Now that you know better, you’ll be able to come up with a real plan.”

“But I can’t! Even if I am qualified, nothing like this was in the course or on the test!”

“Maybe, but that means that none of the other specialists are ‘qualified’ to handle this, either.” Pencil Pusher walked over to Fluttershy and cautiously rested a hoof on her shoulder. He was momentarily distracted by a barely repressed squeal from Rarity, but he shrugged this off and continued, “Listen, from what I’ve seen so far, you’re doing everything that could be reasonably asked of you. I don’t see any reason to give up—especially since trying to quit in the middle of an emergency when there’s nopony to replace you will probably get you into actual trouble, if I understand your contract with the Department correctly.”

Fluttershy looked slightly pale. “Oh... right. I forgot about that part.” She stared at the ceiling for several interminable seconds before looking at Pencil Pusher. “You really think I can do this?”

The bureaucrat turned his gaze towards Fluttershy’s assembled friends. “What do you guys think?”

“I don’t ‘think’ anything,” Rainbow Dash said as she flew out of her chair and landed behind Fluttershy. “I know she can.”

“Hear, hear!” Rarity concurred as she rapped the tabletop with her hoof enthusiastically.

Pinkie Pie had already grabbed a pair of pom-poms and had begun a cheer: “Gimme an F! Gimme an L! Gimme a U...”

“Oughta be a snap now that she don’t gotta worry about gettin’ in trouble,” Applejack said sagely.

“That’s right,” Twilight Sparkle agreed. “Fluttershy, if you put your mind to it, you’ll come up with something. I’m positive.”

Pencil Pusher smiled as he turned his attention back to Fluttershy. “Well, the experts sound pretty confident, so I’m assuming they’re right.”

Fluttershy wiped a tear from her eye as she finally cracked a smile. “Well, I guess it can’t hurt to try again....”

Pencil Pusher hadn’t known this group of mares for more than two days, which was probably why he hadn’t expected this to be a cue for a spontaneous group hug. He also hadn’t been expecting to be caught in the middle of that hug, which was a lot tighter than any he’d ever experienced before. “Ugh... can’t breathe....”

The mares, however, were focusing all of their attention on somepony else. “Hey, Fluttershy, are you crying again?” Pinkie Pie asked.

“Yes...” the yellow pegasus said timidly.

“Um, but that’s the ‘tears of joy’ kind, right?”

“Actually, I think Pencil Pusher’s hoof slipped and poked me in the eye.”

“Uh, yeah, sorry about that,” Pencil Pusher wheezed out. “I don’t have much experience with group hugs.”

This was enough to get the Elements-Bearers to release their friend, who sat in silence for a few seconds rubbing her eye, which, fortunately, was not injured.

“So, feelin’ better?” Applejack eventually asked Fluttershy.

“A little bit,” Fluttershy said. “Though I’d feel more confident if I already had an idea.”

“Well, then,” Twilight said as she gathered up her notes from a nearby desk, “I’d say it’s high time we got to work.”

September 1 – 12:22 PM

Greg was still stewing in his office as his lunch break neared it end. He still couldn’t believe that Pushme-Pullyou had shown the audacity to speak to him that way. That stallion had hardly seemed like the type who would let a pretty face convince him to be so disrespectful to his thoughtful, caring boss who’d given the kid countless opportunities to prove himself over the years. So what if that floozy had more authority? That was mere flowchart authority (and temporary flowchart authority at that!), which was far less important than loyalty to those who had shown you repeated kindness. Once this fog business was in the past, that backstabbing little ingrate would was going to pay. First, he would—

Greg’s train of thought was interrupted by a series of rapid knocks on his office door, which immediately swung open before he could actually tell whoever was knocking to enter. “Greg!” Hard Hitter said at the top of his lungs as he carelessly slammed the door behind him. “You are just the pony I wanted to see.”

“Hard Hitter?!” Greg said, clearly surprised to see the journalist in his office. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I’ve been in the archives, following up on a lead.”

Greg seemed skeptical of this explanation. “Actual journalism? Seriously, what are you doing here?”

If this had been intended as a jest, Hard Hitter was rather unappreciative. “What crawled up your butt and died? I’m on the trail of a big scoop.”

“Uh huh. Headline: ‘Ditzy airhead fog specialist is ditzy airhead.’”

Hard Hitter just waved his hoof dismissively. “Actually, I’m dropping the Fluttershy angle. I saw her file, and the worst you can say about her is that she doesn’t like to spend money, and that won’t get anypony’s attention. Besides, I found something bigger.”

“Bigger?”

“Oh, yeah. I just need a question or two answered.”

“Don’t really have time for this—”

Hard Hitter cut Greg off here. “I’m almost certain that you aren’t going to be in trouble.”

That, as the saying went, was a horse of a different feather. “Ask away.”

“Which division is in charge of accrediting certification programs for the Department?”

The journalist’s smirk was so gleefully malicious that Greg was already questioning whether he was going to stay out of trouble, but he answered anyway. “Personnel.”

“Excellent... and who actually makes the final decisions about it?”

“Subcommittee, I think. Headed by Synergy—she’s the Personnel Division manager.”

Hard Hitter chuckled darkly. “Well, that’s true for now....”

Author's Note

Fun Fact: One of the reasons I named the journalist "Hard Hitter" was because "Red Herring" made things too obvious.

September 1 – 12:39 PM

After a particularly filling lunch of Granny Smith’s famed Waldorf salad, the Cutie Mark Crusaders returned to their clubhouse to continue with their project. “Okay, so here’s what we still need,” Scootaloo said as she looked at the plans. “One mirrored disco ball, one roll of bubble wrap, and an anvil.”

“I thought we already got the bubble wrap,” Sweetie Belle said as she scratched her head in confusion.

“We did,” Apple Bloom said as her eyelids lowered into a squint. “An’ then you two spent about thirty minutes poppin’ it to make sure it was real bubble wrap, so now we need some more.”

“Hey, I’ve been burned by fake bubble wrap in the past,” Scootaloo insisted. “We had to make sure it was legit.”

“And you had to pop every single bubble in an entire roll to do that?” Apple Bloom asked with a scowl.

“Um, maybe?” Sweetie Belle responded sheepishly. “So, uh, where’d we get the last roll?”

“Here on the farm,” Apple Bloom said. “We use it to protect our jars of Zap Apple Jam for shippin’. I s’pose we can get another roll, but if we ain’t careful with it, we’re gonna be in trouble, on account of Applejack is probably gonna notice we’re runnin’ low. I figure I oughta handle that, so that nopony else gets tempted to test it out on her own.”

“The disco ball shouldn’t be a problem,” Sweetie Belle said in an effort to change the subject. “I bet Pinkie Pie has plenty to spare.”

“Yeah, nothing to worry about there,” Scootaloo agreed with a nod. “So that just leaves the anvil. Um... you wouldn’t happen to have one of those here on the farm too, would you?” she asked Apple Bloom with an odd wrinkle in her eyebrow.

“Why in tarnation would we need an anvil?” Apple Bloom asked. “It ain’t like we got time to forge our own shoes.”

“Okay, so I guess we need to head over to the blacksmith’s, then,” Scootaloo said.

“Actually, I’m pretty sure he’ll notice if one of his anvils is gone,” Sweetie Belle said. “Rarity took me over there once to pick up some custom shoes he’d made for her, and I think he uses all of them.”

“Well, that’s no good,” Apple Bloom said. “I mean, if we can’t get one from the blacksmith’s, where else will we find an anvil?”

“Hmmm...” Sweetie Belle said as she idly tapped her hoof against her chin. “Does it actually have to be an anvil, though? I mean, we just need something heavy, right?”

“Basically,” Scootaloo said with a shrug. “Why? Do you have an idea?”

Sweetie Belle grinned. “Let’s just say that Rarity knows somebody that might be able to help us out.”

September 1 – 12:54 PM

As Fluttershy’s friends split up to begin their roles in her plan, one thing was quite obvious: Mayor Pinkamena Diane Mare needed to know what was going on. Thus, with Pinkie Pie in tow (partly so that the earth pony could secure the town hall for her party, and partly because Mayor Mare really liked her niece), Fluttershy went to the Mayor’s office and outlined her intentions for the next day or so.

To the Mayor’s credit, her reaction to the news was considerably more reasonable than Fluttershy had expected. “Okay, so, if I understand you correctly, your plan is to blow the fog through Ponyville and into the Everfree Forest. Have I got that right?”

“Um, yes,” Fluttershy said.

The Mayor nodded her head calmly. “And this was Pinkie Pie’s idea, correct?”

“Um, no, I came up with most of it myself,” Fluttershy responded.

“Are you sure about that?” the Mayor said, looking Fluttershy in the eye. “Because that sounds like it might be something she’d come up with.”

“Aw, you’re just being silly now, Auntie Diane,” Pinkie Pie answered in her usual cheery voice. “I suggested cutting up the fog like a brownie! This is Fluttershy’s idea all the way.”

The Mayor blinked several times at this, but otherwise her face remained impassive. “I see. Er, Fluttershy, you do realize that it’s important for a leader to be able to keep things in perspective, right?”

“Well, yes,” Fluttershy said, though she looked a little confused by the Mayor’s question.

“Ah, I’m glad we’re on the same page,” Mayor Mare said as she pushed her pince-nez glasses further up her muzzle. “Perhaps now would be a good time for you to take a short break. A session at the spa can do wonders for the mind. After a few hours, I’m sure you’ll be feeling refreshed and ready to consider a solution to the problem.”

“But... I already did that,” Fluttershy said as a somewhat stern edge crept into her voice. “This is the best solution to the problem. The long-term consequences of the alternatives make them completely unacceptable.”

“I understand,” the Mayor said in an artificially soothing tone of voice, “but perhaps you should wait a bit before—”

“Waiting is one of the unacceptable alternatives I just mentioned,” Fluttershy said, taking a few steps toward the Mayor to emphasize her point. “We don’t have much time to act.”

The Mayor seemed perturbed by Fluttershy’s forwardness. “Well, in that case,” she replied as the smile vanished from her face, “you might want to consider a different retreat on the outskirts of Baltimare where you can get your head cleared. This one has individual apartments, all of which are upholstered for maximum comfort, and ponies in white coats will attend to your every need, and there are even specialists there who will listen to your problems until your mind working properly again.”

“Hey,” Pinkie Pie said suspiciously, “that doesn’t sound like a retreat. That sounds like the Whispering Pines Sanitorium for Complete Nutcases!”

Mayor Mare sighed. “Well, it is rather effective. Screw Loose swears by their doctors; she says they’re the reason she was able to become a functioning member of society again. According to her neighbors, she hardly ever howls at the moon these days, and now she uses a shovel to bury her assorted belongings for safekeeping.”

Pinkie scratched her head, looking quite confused. “Really? But if that place is for real, why do ponies keep telling me I should try checking in there?”

Apparently, both the Mayor and Fluttershy thought it best to ignore Pinkie’s question entirely, because they continued their conversation as if Pinkie hadn’t jumped in. “My idea isn’t crazy, Ms. Mare,” Fluttershy said, deliberately dropping the Mayor’s title to subtly remind her which pony actually had the authority to make this call. “I’m an expert, and I know what I’m doing.”

“Then why does this plan sound like it might kill us all?!” The Mayor abruptly shouted. She jumped out of her seat and began pacing rapidly across the room, gesticulating wildly as she made her points. “Why is it that a town as small as Ponyville has to put so much at risk for the rest of the country? Do you have any idea how much property damage we’ve sustained over the past year alone? The emergency room at the hospital only has so much space, and you’re asking me to subject the citizens to the same fog that nearly killed Pinkie Pie?!” By the end of her tirade, the Mayor was standing on her desk with her cravat askew and her glasses dangling precariously on the end of her snout.

“Um, to be fair, I think it would have been a while before the fog actually killed me,” Pinkie pointed out in an attempt to diffuse the situation.

Apparently, this was enough to get Mayor Mare back on a more even keel, as she returned to her chair and straightened her cravat. “Sorry,” she said with a sigh as she pushed her glasses back to their usual spot on her face. “I’ve just been under a lot of stress over this fog business, but I shouldn’t have indulged in unprofessional behavior. I’m sure you have very good reasons for thinking this will work, Fluttershy, and I know you wouldn’t put anypony at risk unless you had to.”

“Wow,” Pinkie Pie said. “Was that one of those political apology thingies you were telling me about? Because you said all the right things, but I still can’t tell whether or not you’re actually sorry.”

“Elected officials can’t afford to apologize for their opinions,” Mayor Mare explained. “Not if we want to be reelected, at least. They create openings for accusations of being wishy-washy.”

“But I thought Wishy Washy just got elected to Parliament last year,” Pinkie Pie said as she wrinkled her brow in bewilderment.

Mayor Mare groaned. “Don’t remind me.” The last thing anypony needed now was a discussion of local electioneering. “How can I help you?”

“Well,” Fluttershy said, her expression softening, “if you could call a town meeting so I can explain the situation to everypony else, that would be good.”

“Consider it done,” the Mayor said as she scrawled a memo onto some stationary. “Anything else?”

“Oh, right,” Pinkie Pie said as her legs abruptly stiffened and her attention refocused on the reason Fluttershy had brought her along in the first place. “I’m going to need to use the town hall for my fog party.”

“A party?” replied the Mayor, whose eyes widened in shock. “Pinkie, is this really the time?”

“Well, yeah. We need to make sure all the foals are safe, especially the pegasus foals, and what better way to keep them from wandering outside than to throw a party to keep them interested?”

“That is a solid idea,” Mayor Mare responded, bobbing her head in an approving nod, “but I don’t think town hall is the best place for it.”

Pinkie Pie’s ears flattened in disappointment. “Why not? There’s plenty of room.”

“Yes, but we still haven’t quite finished the repairs from the... er... ‘incident’ with Ms. Hooves. They’re using tarps to keep the rain from coming through the back walls and the unfinished windows, but I doubt that will be much help against fog.”

“Oh, yeah... that is a problem, isn’t it?” Pinkie said, looking rather despondent as she stared at her hooves. “I guess it’s too much to ask the construction workers to hurry up.”

“Definitely, especially since their jackhammer has gone missing,” the Mayor replied drolly.

“Why would a construction crew need a jackhammer?” Fluttershy asked.

“I have no idea,” said the Mayor. “All I know is that their union agreement stipulates that they need to have all of their necessary equipment on site before they can work on anything, and they consider the jackhammer to be necessary equipment.”

Pinkie shifted her weight back and forth for a few seconds before looking up again. “You, um, wouldn’t know of any other places that might be large enough for all of Ponyville’s foals to fit in, would you?”

“The schoolhouse, perhaps?” suggested the Mayor.

“Maybe...” Pinkie Pie said unenthusiastically, “but there’s not a lot of room in there, once you also include all the foals who are too young for school, and the adults who’ll need to watch them all. Plus, if it gets really stuffy, somepony might be tempted to open one of the windows.”

“Well, I’m not aware of any other public buildings that might serve your needs,” the Mayor said apologetically. “Perhaps you can bring the issue up at the town meeting and find somepony who can volunteer their facility.”

“Volunteer?” Pinkie Pie repeated in distant-sounding voice.

“Don’t worry if you need to rent a space, Pinkie,” Fluttershy reminded her friend. “The Department of Weather will cover the cost.”

“No, it’s not that,” Pinkie Pie said as she shook her head dismissively. “I was just thinking about something.”

“And...” the Mayor beckoned, clearly interested in what her niece had to say (albeit in the same way one might show interest in a potential train wreck).

“There just might be a place that can work for us,” Pinkie Pie said, breaking out into a wide grin.

September 1 – 1:24 PM

Twilight Sparkle placed her final diagram on the easel and turned back to Fluttershy. “So, in conclusion, there’s no reason to think that the fog won’t be over the mountains in your proposed time frame, so long as the north winds reach gale force speeds before sunrise tomorrow.”

Fluttershy nodded as she stood up from her chair. “Okay, then that’s what we’ll aim for.” She looked over at Twilight’s desk, where Pencil Pusher was plowing through a mountain of forms. “Do you have the paperwork to handle that with you?” she asked the bureaucrat.

“Not really, but I can just modify a general request form,” the stallion responded without looking up from his work.

Fluttershy let out a sigh of relief. “Well, it’s nice to hear some enthusiasm for the plan again,” she said. “Mayor Mare wasn’t nearly as supportive.”

Twilight seemed surprised by this. “Really? What did she say?”

“Well, she basically said the stress had gotten to me, and that I should head to the spa so I could relax and come up with a more sensible idea.” Fluttershy paused so Twilight could respond with an appropriate statement of shock and, perhaps, mild-to-moderate indignation.

Twilight, however, had a rather unexpected response. “Actually, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” she said as she cocked her head thoughtfully to one side and glanced towards the ceiling.

Fluttershy wasn’t sure what to make of this; moments ago, Twilight had sounded so optimistic about the plan, but now she was dismissing it as stress-induced folly? What could have changed her mind so quickly?

Luckily, Twilight glanced back downwards and read the expression on Fluttershy’s face before this particular train of thought could leave the station. “Oh, I don’t mean to say that you’re too stressed to make a good decision,” she hastily clarified for her friend. “I’m saying that taking some time to relax can help you stay focused when you return to the task at hoof. Trust me, I’ve had to learn that one from experience. Multiple times.”

“Oh, well, I suppose I can’t really argue with you there,” Fluttershy said as she broke off eye contact with Twilight and nervously rubbed her left hoof against her right foreleg. She didn’t particularly feel like dwelling on any similarities between her tax confusion and Twilight’s adventures with the “Want It, Need It” spell.

For her part, Twilight didn’t seem to take note of the awkward tone of Fluttershy’s voice. “All I’m saying is that you have a few hours to recuperate a bit, so why not treat yourself at the spa? If any major changes happen, we’ll be sure to let you know.”

Fluttershy looked over at Pencil Pusher, who had nearly reached the end of the stack of paperwork piled on the table. “What do you think?” she asked him.

The bureaucrat looked surprised to have his opinion requested. “Uh, sounds good to me,” he said. “I’d recommend against charging the services to the Department of Weather, though.”

Fluttershy smiled in response, and as a result Pencil Pusher’s explanation for party supply expenses reached the edge of the paper and continued onto the surface of the table. “I suppose it would look rather suspicious if I tried something like that,” the fog specialist said as her liaison frantically searched for some blotter paper.

“Well, that, and my writing hoof is getting cramped,” Pencil Pusher absently responded as Twilight used her magic to erase the ink stains. “In any case, I’d appreciate it if you signed these forms before you head over there,” he added. “The sooner we get everything cleared by Cloudsdale, the better.”

September 1 – 1:27 PM

“Anyway, that’s basically the situation at the moment. There’ll be more information at the meetin’, of course, but I figure I’d best be gettin’ volunteers right now. So, are y’all in?” Applejack had done a very thorough job of explaining the need for a safety patrol to her audience, and to the farm pony’s credit, roughly half of them expressed an interest in helping out.

“Yes!” Lyra cried as she sprang to her hooves, nearly knocking over Bon-Bon’s coffee table. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes! We’ll be happy to help out, and we can make sure the humans have a warm welcome, too!”

“What do you mean, ‘we?’” Bon Bon said as she looked around her otherwise empty home. “I don’t see anypony else here, and I won’t be ‘welcoming’ any humans if I have any say in the matter.”

“Really?” Applejack asked mischievously. “I’d’ve thought you woulda jumped at the chance to get the first shot in when they showed up.”

“Well, you thought wrong, especially since they already got in the first shot when they chucked an apple into my house!” Bon-Bon shouted, pointing to the apple-shaped hole in her living room window.

“Bon-Bon!” Lyra countered, rather offended. “Pinkie Pie already exonerated the humans.”

“That’s only because she doesn’t think they exist in the first place,” Bon-Bon countered. “She joined SPHERE because she opposes human exploitation as an abstract concept, remember?”

“Whoa, back up there a minute,” Applejack said. “Somepony threw an apple at your window?”

“Someone,” Bon-Bon corrected. “And don’t worry, I don’t hold you liable. It’s not your fault humans are stealing your crops.”

“What the hay makes ya think it was stolen?”

“Well, I’m assuming you’d remember if a hairless sasquatch walked up to your cart and paid you for it,” the candymaker said, rolling her eyes.

Applejack let out a frustrated groan. She’d have an easier time lassoing a hyperactive flea than convincing Bon-Bon to reconsider any of her ideas about humans—granted, Lyra was just as bad, but the unicorn wasn’t giving her any trouble at the moment. Logic having failed, a different tactic was required here: an appeal to civic pride. “You sure about this, Bon-Bon? This is a chance to really help out the community.”

“Of course I’m sure,” Bon-Bon said, stamping her hoof against the floor to emphasize her point. “If Fluttershy’s really going to let that fog roll through this town, I’m going to do the smart thing and hunker down inside of a hermetically-sealed, blast-hardened, stainless steel shelter. I mean, seriously, what’s the point of preparing for a disaster if you aren’t going to use your bunker when disaster strikes?”

Before anypony could respond, a loud slam came from Bon-Bon’s front door as Pinkie Pie galloped into the room. “Did you just say that you weren’t going to use your hermetically-sealed, blast-hardened, stainless steel bunker?” the pink pony asked, her words surging out of her mouth like whitewater rapids.

Lyra looked astonished. “Pinkie, did you hear all that from outside?”

“I didn’t even know that anypony was talking,” Pinkie Pie replied with a rapid shake of her bushy mane. “Why would I have asked if I already knew? Anyway,” she said, turning her attention back to Bon-Bon, “if you aren’t going to use it, can I throw a party there? It’s for the foals of Ponyville.”

The candymaker, however, didn’t seem able to fully process Pinkie’s questions. “What? I, well, I don’t know about that, Pinkie, you see—”

Pinkie smacked her forehead. “Oh, of course! We need to see if there’s enough room first.”

“Well, uh, I suppose that’s true, but—”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Pinkie Pie replied as she bounced around the room excitedly. “Let’s have a look at that bunker!”

September 1 – 1:32 PM

Without a doubt, Thunderlane was the most unenthusiastic client Rarity had ever attended to, but then again, most of the clients at the Carousel Boutique actually wanted to use her services. Thunderlane, on the other hoof, had simply been ordered here by Rainbow Dash, who hadn’t even bothered to explain why she wanted him there before zooming off to collect fog data. When he learned that he was to receive a shiny suit of his very own, any pride he might have felt at being trusted with such an important job was more or less canceled out by the awkwardness that came from having to stand still while the suit itself was sewn around his body.

Still, Rarity did what she could to keep his mind occupied, mostly by asking him about recent events. “So, how is Flitter doing?” she asked as she began closing up seams around Thunderlane’s back legs.

“Pretty good, actually,” the stallion replied. “I mean, when you compare it to how bad it could have been. Last I heard, all the paperwork for her remaining surgery went through this morning, and she should be in the operating room right now. I think Cloudchaser said that her skin grafts were going to be a little later, once she’s gotten some rehab behind her.”

“I see,” Rarity replied. “And do they expect her recovery to take a while?”

“Well, Cloudchaser told us she’s not supposed to be walking on ground for several weeks. It might cause more damage to the hoof from the impact, or something like that. Luckily, she lives in a cloud house, so she won’t have to spend all her time hovering.”

Before Rarity could formulate a response to this, her thought process was abruptly cut short when the doors of the Carousel Boutique burst open and her little sister ran into the showroom. “Rarity! I need to ask you something,” Sweetie Belle said earnestly as she skidded to a halt near her sister, who had accidentally poked Thunderlane’s hip with her needle in surprise, causing him to yelp in pain.

“Sweetie Belle, you can’t simply barge in here like that,” Rarity said crossly as she peered over the rims of her glasses. “I’m doing some very delicate work right now.”

“Extremely delicate,” Thunderlane confirmed as he tried to get his mind off the sharp pain in his backside.

“Sorry, Rarity,” Sweetie Belle replied, flashing her most innocent expression.

“That’s all right,” Rarity said as she resumed her stitching. “Just try to remember to knock in the future. Now, I believe you had something to say?”

“Oh, right,” Sweetie Belle said. “Do you know where I can find Tom?”

“Ouch!” shouted Thunderlane as Rarity’s needle poked him near the base of his tail.

“Tom?” Rarity said through a blatantly false smile. “I don’t believe I know of anypony by that name.”

“Well, duh,” Sweetie Belle said. “That’s because Tom isn’t a pony. He—”

“I don’t know any zebra, donkey, dragon, minotaur, goat, sheep, cow, rabbit, or draconequus by that name, either,” Rarity interrupted as the fake smile morphed into a very real snarl.

However, Sweetie Belle must not have noticed the expression on her sister’s face. “Yeah, but Tom isn’t any of those things, either. He’s that r—”

This time, Rarity put down her needle and thread and walked over to her sister, pressing her face directly against that of the filly so that her glare filled the entirety of Sweetie Belle’s vision. “My darling sister,” Rarity growled through gritted teeth in a tone that suggested anything but endearment, “I am an extremely busy mare, and I simply do not have time to divert my attention away from the fog recovery effort to dwell on the names of nonexistent beings whom I have never met and who never, ever should be discussed with me, especially in front of other ponies. Do I make myself clear?”

“Um, I guess,” Sweetie Belle said, rather intimidated by her sister’s aggressive posturing. “But can’t you at least give me a hint?”

“No! Now please leave.”

“Awww, but Rarity...”

“Out, out, out!” Rarity shouted as she forcibly slid her sister outside and onto the porch of the Carousel Boutique and slammed the double doors behind her.

Once Sweetie Belle’s grumbles could no longer be heard through the boutique’s walls, Rarity let out an exasperated sigh and ran a hoof through her mane, which had become ever-so-slightly unkempt during her quarrel with her sister. She then picked up her needle and thread with her magic and returned to the sensitive task of enclosing Thunderlane’s haunches in silver fabric.

For his part, Thunderlane was still curious about the incident. “So, uh, who is this ‘Tom’ person anyway?”

The pinprick that followed was somewhat less accidental than the previous two.

September 1 – 1:33 PM

It didn’t take very long for Pinkie Pie’s badgering to completely demolish any resistance Bon-Bon could muster, and she soon led Pinkie, Lyra, and Applejack to the back of her candy shop’s storage room. What first appeared to be a large, brushed-metal wall turned out to be a massive hatch resembling the door of a bank vault, complete with a large, brass, circular handle that had eight polished rods radiating out from the center. On the left side of the hatch were a pair of sturdy-looking hinges, each one nearly as tall as a pony in its own right, and on the right was a non-descript black pad of some oddly resistant foam.

“What is this?” Lyra asked as she gently prodded the pad with her hoof. She’d never really taken an interest in the machinations of Bon-Bon’s misplaced paranoia, which apparently had somewhat better funding than she would have expected from a candymaker’s income.

Bon-Bon looked very proud as she answered: “It’s a hoofprint recognition system—magically based, of course,” she added hastily. “If it was all technology, the humans probably wouldn’t have much trouble cracking it.”

Applejack pushed her hat back and scratched her head. “So, what, only ponies can open this thing?”

“No,” Bon-Bon replied, “only I can open it—from the outside, that is. That said, anypony can open it mechanically from the inside, as long as they’re tall enough to reach the handle.” She walked over to the pad and pressed a hoof against it, causing it to emit a series of chimes as several metallic clanks resounded from the door. Bon-Bon then reared up on her hind legs and pulled one of the handle’s spokes.

Seconds later, the vault door swung open with a hiss of escaping air. “Okay, you’re going to have to explain this one to me,” Lyra said. “Why on earth would you bother pressurizing your bunker? It’s not going to make a difference to a visiting human.”

“Well, it’s certainly true that pressurizing the bunker probably won’t be much of a deterrence to an invading human, but it does deter fluctuations in humidity and temperature, which is why I can use some of the space as additional climate-controlled storage in the meantime until the inevitable assault. And as a bonus, I got to partially write-off the construction of my bunker as a business expense,” Bon-Bon answered as she led her guests through a chamber with shelves full of sugary delights.

“If’’n y’all do throw a party here, I reckon you’ll have to cover these up,” Applejack remarked with a sideways glance at Pinkie Pie, who had started to drool at the sight of all the tooth-rotting goodness before her. “Don’t want the foals goin’ crazy over peanut brittle, do we?”

“Technically, that shelf is holding almond brittle with some hazelnuts for extra flavor. In any case, you haven’t even seen the actual living space yet,” Bon-Bon said as she began to descend a wide staircase in one corner of the storage room. “Follow me, please.”

At the bottom of the stairs was a small, rather boring-looking room with several hooks on the wall and a single door. “This is the living space?” Lyra asked incredulously as she and the others looked around the at the underwhelming space.

Bon-Bon rolled her eyes as she walked over to the door and set her hoof on the knob. “No, this is the coat room.” She opened the door and flicked a light switch, adding, “This is the living space.”

A long row of incandescent light bulbs hanging from the ceiling flickered for a second or two before illuminating a large, sparsely furnished room with beige walls, a high-angled ceiling crossed by several metal rafters painted in a matte brown, and a floor covered in large squares of low pile carpeting in various shades of green, giving it the appearance of cultivated farmland. Including the entrance, there were a total of eight doors, each made of a dark, reddish-brown wood. On the whole, the room felt a bit like a windowless hotel lobby. However, with the exception of a pair of overstuffed armchairs and a side table in one corner, and several large, unopened wooden crates labeled “survival gear” in another, the expanse was otherwise empty, which only served to underscore the room’s spaciousness.

Pinkie Pie gasped at the sight before her. “It’s bigger on the inside!” she exclaimed. To her mild surprise, she didn’t hear her voice echo—but then again, perhaps that was what the carpeting was there for.

Bon-Bon turned towards the pink pony with her face twisted in confusion. “Uh, no, it isn’t. We’re just underground.”

Pinkie Pie gasped again. “It’s bigger on the underside!”

“That sorta brings up a good point,” Applejack said as she walked out into the middle of the space turned back towards the candymaker. “I mean, this room alone is almost as large as a decent-sized barn! Ain’t some of this bunker beneath your neighbors’ property?”

Bon-Bon bobbed her head in a noncommittal shrug. “Actually, most of my neighbors are leasing their homes from me in the first place. My family was part of the first generation of settlers in Ponyville, and they were granted a rather large homestead.”

After briefly pausing to let Pinkie Pie take advantage of the relatively high ceiling and perform about a half-dozen backflips, the tour continued. Behind one door was a large kitchen filled with gleaming metal appliances and cupboards that opened to reveal a cornucopia of dehydrated fruits and vegetables, as well as myriad herbs and spices to make sure there would be plenty of variety in the menu. The sinks had hot and cold running water, which Bon-Bon explained came from the bunker’s well, which, like the generator that provided all of the electricity for both her bunker and her house, was on an even lower floor than the living area.

A second door revealed a dining area with a large wooden table and two long benches on a floor made of rough-hewn oak timbers, and behind the next was a small library, mostly containing books on long-term survival and human theories, though Bon-Bon had thought to acquire several dozen novels for entertainment purposes, including every Daring Do volume that had been published to date. A fourth room, nearly half the size of the spacious main area, was completely empty, with only bare concrete for a floor. “This is where I was planning to set up a hydroponic garden to make the bunker more self-sufficient, but I had to make sure it was ready for a short-term survival situation first,” Bon-Bon explained. “If we manage to survive this initial assault, I’m definitely going to get right on that.”

The remaining doors all led to bedroom suites, all of which had two separate sleeping areas and a full bathroom. Of course, this raised a very obvious question, and Lyra was quick to voice it: “Okay, Bon-Bon, what’s with all the bedrooms? Don’t you live by yourself?”

“Well, yes,” Bon-Bon replied, “but I’m not the only pony who’s going to need shelter once those deranged gorillas overrun the country. Besides, a pony could go stir-crazy down here with nopony else to talk to, so I wanted to make sure there was enough space for several families. That’s actually the main reason the great room is so large; that way, there’s plenty of space for latecomers to sleep on cots if we run out of beds too quickly.”

Pinkie Pie nodded her head enthusiastically. “That makes sense. Also, it reminds me: I need to figure out if that space is going to work for this party.” As Bon-Bon took the other two ponies further downstairs to view the bunker’s utilities, Pinkie began to pace out the dimensions of the great room, mentally arranging the space to determine if it could contain enough fun to keep the foals from giving in to their curiosity and leaving the safety of the area.

As it turned out, Applejack’s initial comparison of the space to one of her barns wasn’t too far off the mark. The room had about two-thirds the floor area of the pavilion in the center of town, though the ceiling was much lower. There wasn’t much furniture, true, but in Pinkie’s experience, that was a plus when throwing a party for foals, since that meant that there were fewer obstacles to run into, which meant there were fewer injuries, and injuries tended to suck the fun out of a party. By the time Bon-Bon, Applejack, and Lyra returned, there was a huge smile on her face.

Bon-Bon opened her mouth as if to say something, but Pinkie Pie rushed over to her and broke the silence herself. “This is great! There’s just enough room in here for everything that I really want for this party. Okay, I admit that it’ll be a little bit cramped, and we’ll have to use your unfurnished room to provide a separate space for really young foals, but the fact that we can keep the fog out makes this a no-brainer, especially since we can use your kitchen to make snacks for everypony, and we can use the bedrooms for naptimes if the whole thing takes longer than expected. And the best part is, there’s still going to be space for—oh, but I don’t want to spoil the surprise!” Pinkie reached out and clasped the still-stunned candymaker’s hoof in her own and shook it vigorously. “Anyway, thanks for letting us throw the party in your bunker. You’re providing a real service to the community. Well, I’d love to stay and chat, but I need to get on those plans!” With that, she bounded out of the room and up the stairs.

Bon-Bon stared at the spot where Pinkie Pie had been standing moments before for a few seconds before turning to Applejack and Lyra. “What the hay just happened?”

September 1 – 1:49 PM

Back at the clubhouse, Apple Bloom had procured a second roll of bubble wrap and had been vigilantly guarding it against Scootaloo’s itchy hooves when Sweetie Belle returned and told them of her setback. Not surprisingly, they were quite sympathetic to her plight.

“She seriously just kicked you out like that?” Scootaloo asked. “Talk about rude!”

“I s’pose I can understand why Rarity doesn’t wanna talk about it,” Apple Bloom admitted, “but it ain’t like she was the only pony actin’ like an idiot when Discord was around. Y’all shoulda heard some of the whoppers Applejack tried to pass off.”

Sweetie Belle sighed. “Thanks, but that doesn’t change the fact that we still don’t know where to find Tom.”

“Hang on, let’s just think this through a bit,” suggested Apple Bloom. “It can’t be easy to just get rid of a boulder that big, so maybe it’s still around Ponyville somewhere.”

“Well, it’s definitely not anywhere near the Carousel Boutique,” Sweetie Belle said. “There’s no way she’d ever put Tom somewhere where she might see him and be reminded of their ‘fling.’”

“Sure, but she doesn’t seem like the kind of pony who’d just leave a huge rock at somepony else’s home without permission, either,” Scootaloo said as she idly rubbed her chin.

“Yeah, and it ain’t like she could just ask any old pony to take Tom off her hooves, either,” Apple Bloom pointed out. “After all, if she doesn’t want anypony else to know about it, she ain’t likely to risk gettin’ asked those kinda questions, is she?”

“So, Tom’s probably with one of her friends, then,” Sweetie Belle said. “I guess the question is: who?”

“I think we can cross Pinkie Pie off the list right away,” Scootaloo said. “After all, she rents an apartment, and I don’t think the Cakes are just going to let something like Tom sit around their place.”

“I don’t think Rarity would want Tom sitting around in somewhere in the middle of town anyway,” Sweetie Belle said. “Somepony might ask something. I guess that means it’s probably not at Twilight’s place, either.”

“Especially since Twilight don’t actually own the library,” Apple Bloom said, “so it’s pretty much the same thing as with Pinkie. What about Rainbow Dash? She lives near the edge of town, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah... in a cloud house,” Scootaloo replied. “She doesn’t have anyplace to put a boulder other than the ground directly beneath it, and somepony would definitely have seen it, since it’s just grass.”

“Maybe Tom’s somewhere on Sweet Apple Acres, then,” Sweetie Belle suggested. “It’s on the outskirts of Ponyville, and there’s plenty of room and lots of trees to keep it from being seen out in the open.”

“I doubt it,” Apple Bloom said. “I’m pretty sure I’d’ve seen a rock that size during the last harvest. And besides, the three of us are runnin’ all over the orchard all the time. One of you probably would have spotted it, even if I didn’t.”

“Okay, so Tom probably isn’t here,” Scootaloo said. “So, that leaves... Fluttershy.”

There was silence for several seconds in the clubhouse as the three fillies mulled over this possibility. “She does live on the edge of town,” Sweetie Belle said.

“And we know she’s got plenty of space for all those animals,” Apple Bloom added.

“Yeah, but she’s gonna be way too busy with the fog to answer questions about Tom, won’t she?” Scootaloo asked.

Apple Bloom had a somewhat mischievous look on her face as she answered, “Maybe, but she’s not the only one who lives there.”

Scootaloo scratched her head. “What do you mean by that?”

“Not it,” Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom said in unison as Scootaloo realized what Apple Bloom had been implying.

“Aww... but I don’t wanna talk to that rabbit again....”

September 1 – 2:02 PM

“Oh, hello, Fluttershy. We did not expect you to be here.”

Fluttershy smiled at the pale blue earth pony behind the reception counter at the Ponyville Day Spa. “I’m sorry about missing my appointment yesterday, Lotus Blossom. Do you have time for a walk-in this afternoon?”

“We would make the time,” Lotus Blossom replied in her Stalliongrad accent as a sly grin formed on her face. “You are one of our best customers, after all. It’s just... well... you are busy at the moment, correct?”

“I guess it’s true that there are a lot of things on my plate at the moment,” Fluttershy admitted sheepishly, “but right now, there’s not much for me to do personally—at least, not until the town hall meeting this evening.”

“Ah, yes, the rumors have been spreading,” the spa pony said with a nod. “The fog might come through here at any minute. You have a plan to keep it out of Ponyville, yes?”

Fluttershy shifted her weight somewhat nervously. “Um, well, I definitely have a plan....”

“Excellent!” Lotus Blossom shouted happily. “Tell you what: Super Deluxe package, on the house, just for you.”

“Oh, I don’t really think that’s necessary—”

Lotus Blossom, however, wouldn’t even hear a refusal. “I insist! You do good work for Ponyville, so Ponyville should do good work for you.” She turn towards behind her and called out, “Aloe! Get the works ready!”

“You don’t have to do this for free,” Fluttershy protested feebly.

“Nonsense!” Lotus Blossom replied as she rushed over to Fluttershy and slipped the pegasus’ monogrammed bathrobe over her withers. “It will be our pleasure. By the time we are done, you will be the most relaxed pony in Equestria.”

September 1 – 2:31 PM

Scootaloo slowly massaged one of her temples as she attempted to will the frustration away from her. “Angel, I know you can understand Equestrian, and I also know that you aren’t a moron, so will you please stop playing dumb and tell us where the stupid rock is?!” The late summer sun, combined with the stress of attempting to hold two conversations with Fluttershy’s pet rabbit in a single day, was making the pegasus filly unusually irritable.

However, at least during the first conversation, Angel Bunny had at least tried to communicate with her, even if his gesticulations and inscrutable rabbit noises hadn’t been that effective. Now, he was just standing in front of her with his arms folded and his eyes shut tight, barely even acknowledging the presence of the Cutie Mark Crusaders. About the only lucky break they’d had was that Fluttershy appeared to be out for the afternoon dealing with the fog, which at least meant that they didn’t need to worry about answering any awkward questions about why they were looking for an allegedly nonexistent rock.

“Look,” Sweetie Belle said, finally jumping into the conversation. “What if we made some food for you? Anything you want, just name it.”

This, however, did not produce a particularly favorable response; instead of warming up to the fillies, Angel audibly gagged and shook his head violently.

“I’m guessin’ he still remembers that time we tried to get our cutie marks by makin’ pet food,” Apple Bloom remarked.

“Well, what about the rest of the animals?” Sweetie Belle asked as she looked hopefully around Fluttershy’s yard, but the other creatures seemed even more reluctant to make eye contact with them, although their demeanor was for the most part sheepishly guilt-ridden, in contrast to the rabbit’s brazenly defiant attitude.

Scootaloo groaned. “Angel Bunny’s their official negotiator, remember? They probably trust him to make sure they get a good deal—and after having to deal with him, I can’t really say I blame them.” As obnoxious as that rabbit could be, he seemed more than willing to stand up for his friends.

“I guess you got a point there,” Apple Bloom admitted. “But how are we gonna find Tom without any help?”

“Actually, we might not need any help,” Scootaloo said as a smile crept onto her face for the first time since the trio had arrived at Fluttershy’s.

“What do you mean?” asked Sweetie Belle.

“You can do it!” the pegasus answered excitedly.

Sweetie Belle didn’t quite know what to make of this. “Huh? What are you talking about?”

Scootaloo sighed. “Look, cutie marks tend to run in families, don’t they?”

“I guess...”

“Well, isn’t your sister’s special talent basically just finding rocks? Maybe it’s a family thing!”

“But I don’t even know how she performs that spell,” Sweetie Belle protested.

“Maybe not, but I don’t reckon Rarity knew how she did it when she got her cutie mark, either,” Apple Bloom said. “Maybe if you just think like Rarity for a bit, everything’ll fall into place, and your horn’ll just drag you to the biggest rock around—an’ that’s bound to be Tom!”

Sweetie Belle let out a sigh. “Okay, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try....” The unicorn filly shut her eyes and did her best to focus her mind on all things stylish and fabulous, but after a full minute of absolutely nothing happening, it was obvious to all that a somewhat different tactic was needed.

“Hmm...” Apple Bloom mused after a few moments of pondering. “Maybe it’s a little more complicated than just thinkin’ like Rarity. Maybe you need to be in the sorta state of mind she was in when she figured out how to find rocks in the first place.”

Sweetie Belle screwed up her muzzle in confusion. “But I don’t have anything that needs to be decorated with me.”

In response to this, Scootaloo glanced around the animal pen for a bit before breaking out in a wide grin. “I’ve got just the thing,” she said as she pushed a very reluctant Angel Bunny in front of the unicorn. “There you go. One boring, white, and totally lame bunny rabbit for you to pretty up.”

Unsurprisingly, Angel did not react well to being insulted to his face, and immediately commenced gesticulating and screeching in protest.

Scootaloo, however, wouldn’t have any of this. “Hey, if you’d agreed to help us out in the first place, you wouldn’t be in this situation, so unless you want to tell us where Tom is, keep quiet.”

Grudgingly, the rabbit ceased his protests, though he continued glowering at the three fillies with his ears lowered and his forelegs crossed over his chest.

Sweetie Belle, meanwhile, cleared her throat and spoke in a loud, somewhat clipped monotone: “Oh, no! I have nothing with which I can make this plain white rabbit look fabulous! Whatever shall I do?!”

Silence filled Fluttershy’s backyard as the three fillies waited for something to happen, interrupted once or twice by the sound of clucking chicken. “Well?” Apple Bloom finally asked. “Gettin’ anything yet?”

“Not really, but... hang on....” Sweetie Belle closed her eyes and started walking around, following a vague, instinctual urge that seemed to be forming within her. Her two friends stayed right behind her as she meandered further away from Fluttershy’s cottage. “I think... I think I might be feeling something.... I think it’s coming from somewhere around—” The unicorn’s musings were abruptly cut off as she tripped over her hooves and landed face-first in the dirt.

Her friends didn’t hesitate for a second before rushing back to their wagon to retrieve the shovels they’d brought along for Tom’s extraction and, once Sweetie Belle had gotten to her hooves again, the trio immediately began their excavation. The hard work combined with the afternoon sun soon had them covered in sweat as they removed layers of soil, but eventually, they reached their prize.

“Rubies?!” Scootaloo moaned in disappointment as she lifted a small cache of red gemstones out of the hole. “What the hay are we supposed to do with these?”

“Well, maybe we can use them to buy ourselves somethin’ else that’s heavy,” Apple Bloom suggested in a rather strained effort to be optimistic.

“Oh, yeah, that won’t raise any suspicions,” Sweetie Belle replied sarcastically. She sighed as she looked dejectedly at her still-blank hip. “All that, and I didn’t even get my cutie mark out of it.”

The three fillies sat down in the shade to try and regain their bearings. “This stinks,” Scootaloo said. “How on earth are we supposed to find Tom? We’ve got nothing.”

“Hey, it could be worse,” Apple Bloom said.

“Really?” Scootaloo asked. “How?”

“Well, for starters, this big ol’ boulder might not be here to keep the sun off of us,” she said, tapping the massive rock they were leaning against with her hoof.

“Apple Bloom, can you please stay focused on what we need to do?” Sweetie Belle asked. “We’re trying to find Tom, and you’re going on about a big... rock....”

Comprehension simultaneously dawned on all three fillies, who stared at the large grey stone in dumbstruck silence for several seconds. “I’ll get the wagon,” Scootaloo eventually volunteered.

September 1 – 2:35 PM

Pencil Pusher raised a forehoof to his head to wipe some sweat away from his eyes as he continued flying northwards. By now, he’d made the commute often enough that it was starting to seem less mentally overwhelming than it originally had when he first flew down to Ponyville, though it was still physically exhausting. Has it really only been two days? the bureaucrat idly thought to himself as he made his way through the hot, sun-beaten air over the fog bank. It was odd to think that less than forty-eight hours ago, he’d been sitting at his workstation with no idea that he was about to be press-ganged into acting as a messenger for the Department—not that he minded that much anymore. After all, he never would have met Fluttershy if he hadn’t been forced to deliver the news about the fog to her in the first place.

Of course, he still wasn’t exactly sure how to go about asking Fluttershy out. Granted, it seemed that some of her friends were willing to help him out in that regard, but whether their assistance would actually improve his odds of getting a “yes” seemed a bit doubtful. Rarity, in particular, seemed to be looking at the situation through the rather stylized lens of tacky romance novels.

All that, however, could wait until later, once the fog had cleared. In fact, it was probably a really bad idea not to wait until everything was over, as asking out one’s coworker in the middle of an emergency was generally not considered professional behavior. Not even Greg had ever tried something like that—at least as far as Pencil Pusher knew (notwithstanding some unverifiable rumors written on the walls of a bathroom stall near the department archives).

But that, of course, raised the question of how he could best help get rid of the fog so the two of them could be “off the clock,” as it were. If this plan worked as well as she thought it would, all that was left for him to do was to deliver the forms to the appropriate ponies, and then... well... he had no idea. His initial instinct was to return to Ponyville once the forms had been dropped off, but there really wasn’t much for him to do there, since the local residents were handling most of the preparations themselves. Twilight Sparkle had seemed keen on having him stick around in Cloudsdale in case any unexpected bureaucratic hiccups got in the way, but she wasn’t aware of his plan to ask Fluttershy out.

Besides, once Fluttershy’s orders were distributed to the appropriate personnel, there wouldn’t be any red tape left to clear. After all, he knew the Department of Weather’s bureaucracy like it was the back of his hoof, and he’d already accounted for all of the internal pitfalls that could have threatened her plan. Regardless of what happened in Ponyville, there wouldn’t be any surprises waiting for him in Cloudsdale.

September 1 – 3:10 PM

Bon-Bon stared slack-jawed as a hyperactive pink blur zipped around her bunker, putting up all sorts of decorations to make the rather dull space more festive. She knew of Pinkie’s reputation for throwing together parties on short notice, but this was a little ridiculous—Bon-Bon had only given her tentative agreement to let Pinkie Pie use her bunker about an hour and a half ago, and already she’d piled several crates of party supplies in the middle of the cavernous great room and started festooning pastel bunting across the room’s rafters (and that was leaving aside the question of how she’d gotten up there without using Bon-Bon’s stepladder).

Concluding that it was best to deal with weirdness one issue at a time, Bon-Bon decided to ask the most perplexing question she had: “Pinkie Pie, could you just explain to me how you can get this many party supplies on such short notice?”

Pinkie left the unhung bunting in the rafters and zipped down to the ground and over to the candymaker to provide her answer. “It’s not that difficult. After all, you aren’t the only shopkeeper in town who I’ve given ‘Code Polkadot’ instructions to. Oh, that reminds me: Bon-Bon, we’ve got a Code Polkadot on our hooves.”

Bon-Bon rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll have plenty of candy sampler packs ready for your party. But if ‘Code Polkadot’ is for merchants in Ponyville, which one rented you that bounce house?” she asked pointing at the uninflated amusement which looked like it would take up nearly a third of the floor space in the main room.

“Quills & Sofas, obviously.”

This didn’t seem particularly obvious to Bon-Bon. “What? But they only sell quills and sofas.”

“Well, of course, but they also rent bounce houses,” Pinkie replied as she returned to her decorating.

“But... but why....” All attempts to make sense of Pinkie’s statements having failed, Bon-Bon sighed and went off to gather the requested candies from her inventory.

September 1 – 3:37 PM

“Hey! Be careful with those columns!”

By taking turns with Thunderlane, Rainbow Dash actually had fairly large chunks of time to kill between data runs for Twilight. Up until now, that time had been spent making sure that the rest of the town’s weather team was up to speed—which also included the unenviable task of convincing them that Fluttershy hadn’t lost her marbles. This was her first break for which she didn’t have any particular obligations assigned to her, so naturally, she was using it to move her house.

“Never mind the rainbows! If they break, I can make more later. The building is what’s important here, people!”

Of course, the fact that she had to keep wearing her fog suit meant that she wasn’t actually doing any of the moving herself, mostly because it was rather difficult to manipulate a large cloud while wearing an outfit specifically designed to allow a pegasus to pass through them. That was why she’d enlisted the help of several members of the reserve team. This wasn’t entirely self-serving, of course: after all, there were around a half-dozen cloud structures in the Ponyville area besides Rainbow Dash’s home, and this would be good practice for when they needed to be moved later in the day. This was done by carefully dividing the structure along lines established in its blueprints, allowing the individual pieces to be lifted upwards, where they were reassembled using ordinary cloud as a temporary glue. After the danger had passed, the building could then be moved back to its original spot, this time being held together by clouds specially formulated to act as cement.

“No, that’s the second floor, not the third one! Are you guys even looking at the plans I gave you?”

“Frustrating, isn’t it?” Rarity asked with a barely perceptible grin as Rainbow Dash landed and set her megaphone down on the ground. Ever since she’d finished Thunderlane’s fog suit, the fashionista had been sticking around the weather team so she could be easily found to perform repairs.

“No kidding,” the pegasus replied. “I mean, I could do this on my own in no time if I didn’t have to wear all this tin foil―yes, I know that it’s not actually metal that makes it shiny,” she hastily added to stave off the incoming correction.

“Well, as it happens, that fabric does contain a significant amount of silver thread... but I digress. I was wondering if you had the time to let me bounce an idea off of you.”

Rainbow Dash glanced upwards as the reserve team continued relocating her house; despite her frustrations, they weren’t doing that bad, so she could probably spare a minute or two. “Okay, lemme hear it.”

“It’s about Fluttershy and Pencil Pusher.”

Rainbow Dash cocked an eyebrow. “What about them?”

“Well, don’t you think things are moving a bit slowly between them?”

“Rarity, they only met each other two days ago―not even that, actually. It was early yesterday morning.”

“Precisely!” the unicorn replied, stamping the grass with one of her forehooves for emphasis. “Pencil Pusher has known Fluttershy for nearly two days, and he has yet to even ask her out for coffee.”

“Uh, well, they’ve been kinda busy, in case you didn’t notice.”

“Be that as it may, I still think that it’s in Fluttershy’s best interest that her new relationship begin under the best possible circumstances, and to that end, I’ve come up with a plan to ensure that their first date is flawless.”

“Whoa, hold up. You’ve already come up with a plan? You didn’t even know Pencil Pusher was interested in Fluttershy until this morning.”

“Well, I’ll admit that it’s not exactly a customized plan; I’m basically putting Mr. Pusher into the preexisting plan I had for Fluttershy.”

Rainbow Dash stared blankly at her friend. “Does it involve a picnic, frolicking in gorgeous vistas, and watching the sunset from a windswept cliff?”

“How’d you know that?”

“Because I read the back cover of one of your cheesy romance novels once.”

“Hmph,” Rarity sniffed. “I suppose you’d rather they searched a dank cavern for some long-forgotten treasure?”

“No, because I know that Daring Do is just a fictional character,” Rainbow Dash replied flatly.

“Then what would you suggest we do?”

The pegasus chuckled. “That’s easy: We do absolutely nothing, and let Pencil Pusher and Fluttershy figure out if they’re right for each other on their own. The way I see it, we only need to get involved if one of them starts acting like a super-aggressive jerk.”

Rarity seemed rather nonplussed by this option. “You will not consider the possibility that neither will be aggressive enough to ensure that the first date takes place, then?”

“Nope,” Rainbow Dash said as she picked up her megaphone and hovered in the air, ready to start giving a new round of orders to the reservists. “From what I’ve seen, Pencil Pusher really seems like the kind of stallion who can take care of things on his own.”

September 1 – 4:16 PM

Greg was in a spectacularly bad mood. Of course, this was partly due to the fact that his recent conversations with Hard Hitter had left behind a distinctly sour aftertaste, despite the reporter’s assurances that he wasn’t in any danger of fallout from his current investigation. Indeed, under most circumstances, he’d be glad to hear that Synergy was in trouble; Greg had been eyeing that mare’s position in the Personnel Division for several years now, and he was reasonably certain that he had the connections to nab it if she was forced out. But the knowledge that a self-important hack like Hard Hitter was doing actual journalistic work felt so wrong that all of Greg’s optimism seemed to evaporate before it could take hold in his mind.

But even if he had been able to muster up some enthusiasm for his potential career advancement, Greg would have been hard-pressed to ignore a far more glaring irritant: Pepperbox, or whatever his name was. It seemed like everypony in the DOW’s Central Office was talking about the work he’d been doing as the fog specialist’s liaison, and he was getting sick of listening to his peers gush about his underling’s “dedication” and “selfless volunteerism” for hours on end.

“Big deal!” the administrator ranted to himself as he paced around his office. “Never would have had the chance to be selfless if I hadn’t pushed him. Nopony thanking me. Shoving that holier-than-thou attitude in everypony’s face―where does he get off?!” None of them had seen him in Greg’s office earlier that morning, ordering him around and threatening to report him to his boss, as though his work took precedence over everything. The fact that DOW guidelines clearly stated that the fog specialist’s desires really did take precedence was irrelevant: this was a matter of principle.

In fact, the more Greg thought about it, the more obvious it was that he was the truly selfless one here. After all, if he hadn’t magnanimously forced Puddleglum to deliver the initial message to Whatshername in the first place, he might have been the one with the chance to show off for the whole department. “Anypony thanking me for that?” he asked the empty space in the corner of his office. “Nooooo. Just yammer on about how he’s ‘serving the community’ without even getting paid.” Here was another sore point: if it wasn’t for Greg’s knack for spotting and avoiding unnecessary paperwork, Pinetar Incident would be getting paid for his work, and then where would all the praise for his so-called “volunteerism” be?

The paunchy stallion was just about to launch into another tirade when he heard a series of rapid taps on his door. Quickly reseating himself behind his desk, Greg pulled out a boring-looking report on quarterly travel expenses and did his best to look like he was engrossed in its contents as he called out: “Enter.”

As if to emphasize Greg’s unlucky streak, into his office walked Pimple Popper, who doubtless intended to gratuitously throw his weight around once again. The grey stallion didn’t even bother making any small talk; he just reached into his saddlebag and pulled out some paperwork, flopping it onto Greg’s desk as he tried to avoid making eye contact. “Fluttershy has new plans for tomorrow,” he said tersely. “I need you to look this over and sign some things so there’s a record that you were informed about what’s going on, and then I’ll be out of your mane.” He didn’t even have the decency to try to make his order sound like a request.

Though Greg’s first instinct was to protest Pigwidgeon’s blatant insubordination as loudly as possible, a far better course of action soon presented itself; as he glanced over the proposal, he immediately noticed a glaring flaw, and what was more, he knew how best to exploit this flaw to prove his point. “No point in rushing,” he said as he made a pretense of looking over the paperwork. “Mistakes happen. I mean, Everfree? Seriously?”

“Greg, there really isn’t any time for office politics right now,” Poodle Hat said in a somewhat exasperated tone of voice. “Besides, technically, you aren’t even granting permission for anything: just acknowledging that you’re aware that Fluttershy’s going to be accessing the emergency fund. All that’s left is for you to sign these forms, and the plan can get underway.”

“Not arguing there.” Greg said as he picked up a quill and idly dipped it into an ink pot. He paused, somewhat melodramatically, before moving in for the kill. “Not sure if Interior will feel the same way, though.”

“What? I’ve never heard of that pony.”

“Department of Interior. Last I checked, Everfree’s a protected area. Their jurisdiction. Might need their say-so to dump experimental clouds there.”

“But Fluttershy is supposed to―”

“Weather policy. Only covers the Weather Department,” Greg said, setting down his quill and standing up from his desk again. “Should bring this up with my superiors. Make sure Interior’s okay with this. Fewer headaches in the long run.”

“Fewer headaches?!” Pago Pago shouted incredulously. “If this plan isn’t ready to go by tomorrow morning, the situation is going to get even worse!”

Greg did his best to repress the triumphant grin that threatened to spread across his face; it was about time this pencil pusher got put back in his place. “Maybe they’ll see it that way.”

The grey stallion sighed in resignation. “Yeah, right. Like anypony that high up will risk their neck by stepping into another department’s territory. I need to take care of this myself. Do you know when the Interior Department’s office closes?”

“Six, maybe seven?” Greg said with a shrug.

“Well, that should at least give me some time for a quick dinner before heading to the local branch.”

“Never mentioned a local branch,” Greg responded, no longer making any effort to hide his glee. “Interior isn’t that big. Just the main office.”

Party Platter’s eyes widened in shock. “I’m going to have to go to Canterlot?”

“Could send a telegram,” Greg replied facetiously.

“There’s no way something like this would be approved without a face-to-face meeting,” Piggly Wiggly said with a glare.

“Might want to get moving, then.”

“Yeah, thanks for the help,” Pinball Wizard said sarcastically as he headed for the door.

“Good luck,” Greg lied.

September 1 – 4:30 PM

“One... two... three!” With a final heave, the Cutie Mark Crusaders managed to get Tom exactly where they wanted him, bringing the most strenuous afternoon in any of the fillies’ memories to its long-awaited conclusion. The task of transporting the boulder to Sweet Apple Acres had strained their emotions multiple times (and in Sweetie Belle’s case, one of her shoulders as well), but the colossal task of installing their substitute anvil was now complete—though that, in turn, had necessitated a hasty redesign in order to accommodate Tom’s bulk.

“Good thing we had some extra rope from makin’ our net,” Apple Bloom said as she finished knotting several lines around the great stone. “The human trap is really startin’ to come together. I think all we need now is that disco ball, right?”

“Pretty much,” Sweetie Belle replied as she slowly massaged her shoulder, “though it’ll have to be a strong one now that we’re using Tom. I mean, aren’t they usually hollow?”

“I’m pretty sure Pinkie Pie has a reinforced mirror ball,” Scootaloo said.

“How on earth do you know that?” Apple Bloom asked.

“I don’t,” Scootaloo admitted. “I’m just assuming she has one because she’s Pinkie Pie, and that’s the sort of thing Pinkie Pie would have.”

“Is it really a good idea to leave Tom out in the open like this, though?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“Well, it ain’t like we’ll have time to get him in place once the humans start comin’ outta the woodwork, so we don’t have much choice,” Apple Bloom replied.

Scootaloo nodded. “That’s right. Besides, this part of the orchard is out of the way, and considering that we managed to get Tom here without being seen, I’m guessing that the rest of Apple Bloom’s family is too busy with the fog to do their regular chores.”

“Okay,” Sweetie Belle replied as she uncertainly eyed Tom, “but can we at least throw a sheet or something on him so he blends in better?”

“How is a boulder dressed up like a ghost going to blend in?” Scootaloo asked.

Sweetie Belle shook her head. “No, I meant a sheet with something printed on it; you know, so Tom could look like a pile of apples.”

“Why in tarnation would we leave a pile of apples lyin’ on the ground?” Apple Bloom asked. “That’d make ’em even more suspicious than a big ol’ rock-colored rock.”

“I guess you have a point,” Sweetie Belle said as she conceded defeat with a sigh. “Still, I wonder what the grownups are doing that let us get Tom here without being seen.”

“Boring grownup stuff, probably,” Scootaloo replied. “Now, come on. We still need to find Pinkie and get that disco ball.”

September 1 – 5:03 PM

Fluttershy slowly exhaled as Mayor Mare started to wrap up her opening remarks. She couldn’t quite shake off all of her nervousness; as physically relaxing as her session at the spa had been, she had still come away from the experience with the distinct impression that her neighbors thought her job was to save Ponyville from the fog, rather than doing what was best for Equestria. If the initial reactions of her closest friends were any indication, this town hall meeting was likely to become quite confrontational.

She briefly glanced over at Twilight Sparkle, who nodded back reassuringly, as did the rest of her friends, who had all gathered on the stage with her to provide support. Twilight had actually offered to present the plan to the townsponies in her place, but Fluttershy had turned this offer down. This was her idea, after all, and if she couldn’t explain it herself, how could she expect to overcome any lingering skepticism?

Fluttershy was still lost in her thoughts when a chorus of hooves stamping on the wooden floor informed her that it was time for her to explain everything. She slowly walked up to the podium, took a deep breath, perked her ears up, and began: “Hello, everypony. As Mayor Mare just said, the Department of Weather has placed me in charge of managing this fog, and I’m pleased to tell you that there is now a plan in place to deal with this threat to the safety of Equestria.”

So far, so good, but Fluttershy was about to get to the controversial part of her announcement. “At some point tomorrow afternoon, that fog will come over the mountains, heading straight through Ponyville towards the Everfree Forest.”

“And how are you going to stop it?” called out an unrecognizable voice from somewhere in the back.

“I’m not going to stop it,” Fluttershy explained.

“You mean that all of us have to work together to stop it?” another anonymous voice from the crowd called out.

“No, I mean that nopony is going to stop it.”

“But you just said you had a plan!” called a third voice, which sounded rather angry.

“I do. This is the plan.” The murmured grumbles from the crowd grew louder.

“You’re joking!” shouted a cream-colored mare who Fluttershy recognized as a local carrot farmer. “There has to be more to this plan than sitting back and letting the fog just go out of control.”

“You bet there is!” Pinkie Pie shouted. “I’m also throwing a party!”

If this outburst was meant to ease the worries of the audience, the increasing volume of the varied mutterings suggested that it hadn’t succeeded. Fluttershy took a deep breath and tried to make her voice sound as firm as possible. “The fog will be going through Ponyville because that’s exactly what we need it to do. If we left it alone, it would solidify right in the middle of Equestria, where it could hurt weather and crops throughout the whole region. I don’t think anypony wants that.” Apparently, bringing up the possibility of failed crops was enough to get the room to quiet down a bit, if only because nopony had thought up a quick rebuttal.

“Right,” Pinkie Pie agreed in an equally firm tone. “But what anypony would want is a party.”

Before the crowd could latch onto her friend’s single-minded focus and renew their grumbling, Fluttershy moved forward. “I believe that blowing the fog into the Everfree Forest will make it act like normal cloud again, but we’re running out of time to do something about it. I know it sounds risky, but pushing the fog through Ponyville might be our only chance to avoid worse problems further down the road. The weather team is getting ready to move the fog as we speak, but there’s a lot more that needs to be done, and we’ll all need to work together to do this safely.”

“And speaking of safes, there’s going to be a party in a place that looks just like one!”

Fluttershy sighed and turned to her friend. “Yes, Pinkie, I’m getting there,” she said quietly as she raised one of her forehooves in a subtle halting motion. She then turned back to the crowd and continued. “Any pegasi who have cloud houses will need to raise them above the fog. Those pegasi who don’t have a cloud house are encouraged to help out those who do.”

“We have a bounce house,” Pinkie interjected. “Sorry,” she quickly added after she noticed the mildly irritated look on all of her friends’ faces. She began chewing her lower lip as Fluttershy continued.

“Because it’s so dangerous, pegasi who are not directly involved should remain indoors unless it’s absolutely necessary. Earth ponies and unicorns who are interested in helping their neighbors, whether by running errands or simply looking out for any pegasus who gets caught outside, can speak with Applejack, who will be coordinating a safety patrol.”

Pinkie Pie emitted an unintelligible, high-pitched squeak as she attempted to keep herself from interrupting again, though the sight of her rapidly bouncing in place on the stage ended up being nearly as distracting as her interjections.

“Finally,” Fluttershy said, “because the fog poses a threat to all of Ponyville’s foals, Pinkie Pie will be throwing a special party to keep them entertained until the danger has passed. Pinkie, would you like to tell us more?”

“Yesyesyesyesyes!” Pinkie shouted as she zipped up to the podium, nearly bowling Fluttershy over in her haste to allow the flood of information spill over the crowd. “This party is going to be totally awesome!”

As Pinkie Pie launched into her sales pitch for the party in Bon-Bon’s bunker, Fluttershy breathed a sigh of relief. None of the ponies in the room looked as hostile as they had when she’d first explained the plan, even if a few uncertain expressions remained. It really looked like this plan might actually go off without a hitch.

September 1 – 6:21 PM

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Pencil Pusher had always known that there would be consequences to all the extra flying he’d been doing in the last two days, but thus far, his response had been to ignore those pesky thoughts and focus on impressing Fluttershy with his work ethic. That however, was no longer an option, as a sharp stab of pain in his right wing had grounded him on the outskirts of Canterlot, forcing him to make the final leg of his journey on foot.

This is not good, Pencil Pusher thought to himself as he walked through the capital city’s crowded streets, searching for the Interior Department’s office. Aside from the fact that his wing hadn’t felt this bad since he was a colt in flight camp, the time he lost walking was going to make reaching the office before it closed a rather dicey matter. Still, he had to try, not just for Fluttershy’s sake, but also to spite his jerk of a boss. Sure, technically, Greg had actually been doing his job when he pointed out that Fluttershy didn’t have the authority to send the fog into the Everfree Forest, but Greg’s workplace obligations normally had very little to do with his workplace activities.

At the moment, though, Pencil didn’t have the luxury of dwelling on soul-sucking office politics. He had to get to the Department of Interior and get this administrative roadblock taken care of, if only because he had no idea what to do if he failed, and he was worried that he’d get hit by an irony attack and find the place mere minutes after it had closed.

He stopped briefly at a street corner to try and get his bearings. It was so much easier to navigate a city when you had the option of viewing it from the top down. But now, trying to find where he was on the cheap tourist map he’d snagged on the way into the city seemed almost impossible, let alone the location of an obscure government building, and he hadn’t thought to bring along the bits necessary to pay the fare for a taxi. Getting from Point A to Point B had never seemed like such an insurmountable challenge.

He was almost ready to give up, when suddenly fortune smiled on him. “Excuse me, sir, are you lost?”

Pencil Pusher looked up from his awkwardly-folded map and saw a well-dressed white unicorn stallion with a blue mane and a pencil mustache smiling at him. Pencil was briefly distracted by the stallion’s choice of eyewear (he’d never seen anypony actually wearing a monocle before), but he soon regained his senses. “Uh, yes, actually. I’m trying to find the offices of the Department of Interior. It’s, um, sort of important.”

The upper-class pony chuckled briefly before answering, “I can see why you’re having trouble. That’s hardly the usual tourist destination.”

“Well, I’m not really a tourist...”

“Doubtless. In any case, you don’t seem to have much time for small talk, so I’ll just give you some directions. Simply head south for three blocks, then make a right on Star Swirl Avenue. Keep going for two more blocks, and you’ll find the Department of Interior in a three-story marble building on your left.”

“Thanks, mister,” Pencil Pusher said as he took off in a gallop.

“Don’t mention it,” the unicorn called back with a kindly smile.

Pencil Pusher’s legs generally received even less exercise than his wings, but right now he had enough adrenaline rushing through his bloodstream to ignore such a minor detail. He narrowly missed collisions with several pedestrians in his haste, but he didn’t care. Once he got to the Interior Department, he’d be able to put this mess behind him and his self-serving boss wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it. As he turned the corner onto Star Swirl Avenue, his eyes lit up. He could see the office building. Pencil Pusher increased his pace as much as he could, galloping faster than he could ever remember doing before.

Finally he was there. Elated, he rushed up the steps to the door. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so euphoric. Pencil Pusher pulled on the door... and it didn’t open. Stunned, he tried pushing, but this didn’t work either. It was only then that he read the signage on the door, and his heart crashed into the ground.

Office, Department of Interior

Hours: 9 AM – 5 PM

September 1 – 6:36 PM

After briefly splitting up to return home for their respective dinners, the Crusaders headed off to Sugarcube Corner. There weren’t many customers present when they arrived at the bakery, and most of them looked like they were in a hurry to be somewhere else as soon as possible. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem as though many of the employees were present, as only Mrs. Cake was behind the counter, with neither her husband nor Pinkie Pie anywhere in sight.

“Oh, Mr. Cake is taking care of the twins, dearies,” Mrs. Cake explained with a smile. “We need to make sure we’re ready for tomorrow.”

“Why?” Scootaloo asked. “Is something happening?”

“Mm-hmm,” Mrs. Cake nodded. “They’re going to try to take care of that fog problem, but unfortunately, there’s no way to keep it from coming through Ponyville.”

“Oh,” Scootaloo replied before quietly whispering to her friends: “Did you hear that? The humans are going to be here tomorrow.”

The other two Crusaders responded with quick, almost imperceptible nods before returning their attention to Mrs. Cake. “So, um, is Pinkie Pie around?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“I’m afraid she isn’t,” Mrs. Cake replied kindly. “She’s helping Fluttershy with the preparations.”

“Well, do ya think she’d mind if we borrowed some of her supplies?” Apple Bloom asked. “I mean, we’d ask her ourselves, but we’re kinda short on time right now.”

“Oh, I don’t think she’d be able to let you have them even if she was here,” Mrs. Cake said. “She’s cleared out most of her room for tomorrow’s party.”

“Huh?” the Crusaders asked in unison confusion.

“Since the fog is so dangerous, there’s going to be a party for all the foals at Bon-Bon’s store to keep them safe,” Mrs. Cake said.

“And Pinkie Pie’s there right now?” Scootaloo asked excitedly.

“I assume so,” Mrs. Cake said. “But—”

However, the shapely baker didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence, as she was cut off by a chorus of rapid thank-yous as the Crusaders rushed out of the bakery and towards the candy shop.

September 1 – 6:39 PM

Pencil Pusher didn’t have the slightest clue what to do next. He may have been immensely skilled at maneuvering through bureaucracies, but without other bureaucrats to interact with, all those skills added up to little more than a thin, red rectangle on his hip. He didn’t know what he was going to tell Fluttershy, though that hardly mattered at the moment, as his wing was going to keep him grounded for at least a little while longer, which meant that flying back to Ponyville to deliver the bad news wasn’t really an option. He supposed he might have had enough money to send a telegram, but at the moment, that money was being used to fund something altogether more appealing: a box of glazed donuts.

Sitting in the donut shop he’d stumbled upon, Pencil took another bite of the cakey ring in his hoof as he glumly considered his situation. Once again, he asked himself if it was really worth all this trouble just to impress a mare—but by now, this was about a lot more than trying to get a date. Something about “volunteering” to be Fluttershy’s liaison was different from the usual drudgery of his cubicle, and it wasn’t just the insane amount of physical exertion, nor was it even having a reason to get testy with Greg. This wasn’t just a series of thankless form-checking and rubber-stamping; this had been important. Pencil hadn’t quite been able to fully identify his impetus for going above and beyond what was necessary to look good as a potential partner, but as his hope rapidly faded, he only now realized exactly what he was about to lose: pride.

And now he was going to be shoved back into the same soul-sucking role as before, all because he’d neglected to consider government agencies other than the Department of Weather when advising Fluttershy. The fact that it was Greg of all ponies who’d pointed out the discrepancy only made it worse. He half suspected that his boss had deliberately given him the wrong time when he’d asked when the Interior Department closed, but Greg had also suggested sending them a telegram, which, in retrospect, would probably have been enough to at least convince them to stay open late so they could talk to him. In theory, that suggestion could have been intended as reverse psychology, but that, in turned, implied that Greg was actually capable of subtle psychological warfare, when Pencil knew full well that his boss preferred to use the blunt force of his personality to do everything.

That said, there was little point in dwelling on this now; he was stuck in Canterlot, smothering his troubles in donuts, and praying that some sort of solution would fall into his lap in the next few hours, because his own brain had utterly failed to come up with a “Plan B.”

Oh, who am I kidding? he thought to himself. Stuff like that only happens in—

“Need somepony to talk to?”

Pencil Pusher looked up to see the donut shop’s owner, a stocky unicorn stallion with a beige coat and brown mane. He had a look of knowing concern on his face. Pencil Pusher sighed and answered him: “Is it that obvious?”

“Well, there aren’t too many ponies who go on donut binges before the sun sets,” the owner replied. “The name’s Donut Joe. And you?”

“Pencil Pusher,” the pegasus replied, listlessly extending a hoof, which Joe politely shook.

“Well, Pencil, what seems to be troubling you?”

“The weather,” Pencil replied drearily.

“Well, there’s not much point in getting mad about that. From what I understand, right now, the Weather Department has to deal with some sort of runaway fog thing, so they can’t really avoid getting off their published schedule.”

“Oh, believe me, I know all about the ‘fog thing.’”

Joe eyed his customer warily. “Okay... you’re going to need to go into more detail on that one.”

Taking a deep breath, Pencil launched into a summary of his plight, skipping most of the technical details and office politics to focus on the big picture: a mountain of incredibly dangerous fog, and his probable loss of the one chance anypony had to get rid of it because he couldn’t get in touch with the Department of Interior.

Donut Joe rubbed his chin for a bit, as though he was mulling over a response. Eventually, he had a suggestion. “Well, if it’s an emergency, why not just go around the whole bureaucracy and take it directly to Princess Celestia? She holds court almost every day to hear requests from her subjects, so she’ll probably have time to listen to you.”

Pencil Pusher didn’t say anything at first—he was stunned that he hadn’t thought of this idea himself. Even if Princess Celestia wasn’t holding court, she was still the one who’d appointed Fluttershy to be the Element of Kindness in the first place (or something like that), so the two of them probably knew each other reasonably well. And now that he thought of it, Twilight Sparkle had mentioned something about studying with the Princess before her first consulting job with the Weather Department, though he doubted that meant that Twilight had taken lessons directly from the Princess herself. It seemed like there was a reasonably good chance that she’d be willing to lend some assistance... but would she really believe that some schmo she’d never heard of before had any connection to those two?

Then again, it’s not like I’ve got any better ideas. Pencil Pusher quickly dug the bits to pay for his donuts out of his saddlebag and deposited them on the counter. “Thanks!” he said as he quickly exited the donut shop, galloping towards the Royal Palace, leaving behind the two donuts remaining in his box.

September 1 – 6:48 PM

Given that Pinkie Pie was getting ready to throw a party there, Bon-Bon’s candy shop didn’t look all that different than it had when the Crusaders had entered it the previous day. The shelves were still lined with colorful displays of sweets for sale, the scent of peppermint still filled the air, and Bon-Bon herself looked every bit as nervous and paranoid as she had when she’d first told them about the humans. The only noticeable differences were the various boxes strewn about the area overflowing with all manner of party supplies and decorations, and the fact that Bon-Bon appeared to be deep in conversation with Pinkie Pie.

“I mean, I know that I should be willing to stand behind my beliefs, and I know that my decision is the smart one... but I can’t shake the nagging feeling that Lyra might actually be doing the right thing, even if it’s for the wrong reasons.”

Pinkie Pie nodded sagely as she put her hoof on the candymaker’s shoulder. “I know just what you mean: I make my friends feel that way all the time.”

“That isn’t exactly the most comforting thought,” Bon-Bon replied. “Besides, I really should stay here. Those foals are going to be on my property, after all. Their wellbeing is my responsibility.”

Pinkie Pie, however, was more dismissive. “I don’t think you need to worry about the legally-weaselly stuff. Technically, you’re just renting out the place, so I’m pretty sure it’s our responsibility. Look, why don’t you talk to Fluttershy? I’m pretty sure she can answer most of your questions, and you can bet she’ll know where you’ll be the most help.”

“You really think she’ll have time to talk to me?” Bon-Bon asked.

“Are you kidding? You’re the one who made this party possible, and the party was her idea in first place! Of course she’ll talk with you, and once she does, everything will be better. You’ll see.”

Bon-Bon sighed. “Alright. Would you mind watching the shop for me while I’m gone?”

“Not a problem!” Pinkie chirped.

It was only when Bon-Bon exited her shop that Pinkie Pie noticed the three new arrivals. “Hey, girls! Getting some last-minute crusading in before tomorrow?”

“Uh, basically,” Scootaloo said as she shifted her weight nervously. “We actually came here to ask you a favor.”

“Well, don’t just stand there,” Pinkie replied. “Ask away!”

Sweetie Belle got right to the point: “Do you have a reinforced disco ball we can use?”

“Sure, I always keep plenty of spares,” Pinkie Pie said as she waved a hoof towards a corner of the shop. “Help yourself.”

“Thanks a bunch,” Apple Bloom said once the three had picked out the final component of their human trap. “Hope you have fun with the foals tomorrow!”

“Oh, I will,” Pinkie Pie said with a wave. “I’ll see you then!”

The Crusaders all froze mid-stride halfway to the door. “What do you mean, ‘you’ll see us then’?” Scootaloo asked. “I thought that party is for little foals.”

“Yeah, and it’s also for medium-sized foals and big foals, too, like the three of you.”

“Uh, well, thanks for the invitation, but we sort of have other plans for tomorrow,” Sweetie Belle said with halting politeness.

“Er, actually, I’m pretty sure that you won’t have much choice in the matter. The party is being held in Bon-Bon’s bunker for protection against the fog, and Rarity and Applejack have already told me that you and Apple Bloom are going to be attending. As for Scootaloo, I kind of doubt that any pegasus foals are going to be allowed outside tomorrow afternoon, so she’ll probably be here too.”

“But... but what about our crusadin’?” Apple Bloom asked with a pained expression on her face.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Pinkie Pie said as she strode over to the trio and scooped them up in a tight hug. “Once the fog’s gone, you’ll have plenty of time to try for your cutie marks. In the meantime, we’re going to have lots of fun!”

September 1 – 6:57 PM

It took a little bit of searching, but eventually, Bon-Bon managed to locate the local fog specialist in the Carousel Boutique. This was hardly surprising—after all, Rarity was one of Fluttershy’s best friends—but Bon-Bon hadn’t expected to see Fluttershy wrapped in thick, reflective fabric as Rarity flitted around her, stitching various panels together. Thus, after a brief round of greetings, Bon-Bon delayed asking about her concerns to satisfy her curiosity. “Uh... if you don’t mind my asking, what’s going on here?”

Fluttershy smiled kindly at the candymaker, though otherwise she didn’t move at all. “Oh, well, Rarity had enough material left over for one more fog suit, and she reminded me that I might need to get around in the fog myself once it reaches the town. I’m not exactly the strongest flyer around, so I’ll need all the help I can get if I have to travel through it.”

“Uh, right,” Bon-Bon said. “Er, should I come back later, then?”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Fluttershy replied. “Talking with somepony gives me something to do while I’m standing still, after all.”

“But this is a little personal,” Bon-Bon said, eyeing Rarity warily.

Rarity looked up from her needlework when she noticed the awkward lull in the conversation. “Hmm? Is something the matter?”

“You won’t repeat anything you overhear between Bon-Bon and me, will you, Rarity?” Fluttershy asked.

Rarity let out a mildly condescending sigh as she peered wearily over her pince-nez spectacles. “Darling, at the moment, I’m working on some rather intricate stitching, which means I can’t afford the luxury of multitasking. Thus, actively listening to the two of you is quite out of the question. That said, I assure you that anything that does manage to filter through shall not leave this room.”

Bon-Bon still seemed rather unsure as Rarity returned her focus to Fluttershy’s fog suit, but she decided to continue her conversation with the pegasus. “It’s about tomorrow.”

“Oh?” Fluttershy said as she worriedly furrowed her brow. “Will Pinkie not be able to use your bunker after all?”

“No, no, that’s not a problem. It’s just... well... Lyra volunteered for the safety patrol.”

“I see. Were you hoping she’d help out with the party instead?”

“Well, not specifically, but almost anything would be better than the safety patrol. Don’t get me wrong, Lyra certainly means well, and the patrol is obviously important, but I really don’t think she has the right temperament for it.”

Fluttershy looked confused. “You think she’ll be too uncomfortable in the fog to perform her duties?” she asked.

“If only it was that simple. I think she’s going to do something reckless when she finds the humans. She’s always been so optimistic about them; it’s almost amusing, but now, I’m worried that she’ll scamper off to greet them seconds before they capture her, or worse. She probably won’t even be willing to use magic on them for fear of ‘hurting’ them or some other nonsense. The ponies on the safety patrol need to be able to sound the alarm as quickly as possible; peaceful overtures completely miss the entire point of the safety patrol to begin with!”

Fluttershy sharply drew in a breath through her teeth before answering. “Um, actually, the real point of the safety patrol has nothing to do with humans...”

“On paper, sure,” Bon-Bon replied with a dismissive wave of her hoof. “But once the humans actually show up, these ponies are the obvious first line of defense against the invasion.”

Fluttershy wasn’t quite sure how to respond to this, as she was fairly certain that pointing out that there had been no evidence of any non-equine activity at Caligo Manufacturing would do absolutely nothing to change the candymaker’s mind. “Um, well, from the sound of it, it seems likely that Lyra is going to try to find humans in the fog whether or not she’s part of an official group. So wouldn’t it be better if there was somepony with her? As I understand it, Applejack thinks the volunteers should be in pairs when they go outside.”

Bon-Bon frowned and idly tapped one of her forehooves against a table leg as she answered. “I suppose you have a point there, but Lyra’s so enthusiastic about humans that I’m worried that whoever she’s paired with will just get swept away by her excitement, and right into the clutches of those overgrown chimpanzees. I think it might be safer overall if she was just kept indoors.”

“Um, perhaps, but isn’t Lyra an adult? I don’t think she’ll agree with you, and I think she deserves a better reason than ‘because I said so.’”

“But somepony needs to keep her in check!”

“Well,” Fluttershy replied, pausing briefly as Rarity maneuvered beneath her to focus on a seam under her barrel, “why don’t you do it?”

“Excuse me?” Bon-Bon asked as her ears perked up in surprise.

“I don’t think anypony needs to worry about you being distracted by Lyra’s ideas,” Fluttershy explained. “I’m sure you’ve heard them all dozens of times before.”

“But I need to supervise at the party. It’s my bunker, after all. If somepony gets hurt...” Bon-Bon trailed off, unwilling to contemplate what would follow an injury.

“I’m pretty sure the Department of Weather took on all the legal risks when they rented your bunker in the first place. I mean, I sometimes rent out sections of my property for public events, and there’s usually a clause for that sort of thing.”

Bon-Bon sighed and stared at the floor. “I guess you’re right, but...”

“But?” Fluttershy repeated, beckoning the candymaker to finish her sentence.

“...but why can’t she just do the safe thing and stay inside?”

Fluttershy smiled. “Sometimes, you need to take risks. I’ve learned that lesson too many times to count. And when our friends take risks, sometimes the best thing we can do is to share those risks with them.”

Bon-Bon was silent for a few moments before responding. Though her voice still wavered uncertainly, she asked, “I’m supposed to talk to Applejack if I want to volunteer for the safety patrol, right?”

“That’s right,” Fluttershy said with a slight nod. “I think she’s at the town hall.”

“Thanks,” Bon-Bon replied with a small smile as she turned and exited the boutique.

September 1 – 7:00 PM

Pencil Pusher could hear a clock chiming seven times somewhere in the distance as he paced back and forth outside the throne room. Getting an audience with the princess on short notice had been surprisingly simple once he’d pulled his Weather Department ID card out of his saddlebag. In fact, it had been so simple that Pencil had suddenly found enough time to indulge in a fresh round of jitters. This was Princess Celestia, after all.

Thus, when he heard a herald calling out his name and he walked through a pair of massive, ornately decorated doors, it was with no small amount of shock that Pencil Pusher did not see Celestia seated on her throne, but rather her younger sister Luna, who, despite being of smaller stature, appeared to be far more intimidating than the bureaucrat ever imagined her sister to be.

“Greetings, Mr. Pusher,” Luna said in an even, businesslike tone. Her facial expression was completely neutral. “You say you are here to discuss a matter that requires my urgent attention, correct?”

“Princess Luna?!” he said in surprise before remembering that he was before royalty and kneeling in respect. “Uh, is Princess Celestia... busy?” he said hesitantly as he rose to his hooves again.

Luna’s expression did not change, but her tone of voice seemed mildly irritated as she answered, “She has relinquished control to me for the evening, as I do to her each morning. Such is our practice.”

Pencil Pusher wasn’t quite sure what to make of this. Just to make sure he hadn’t let time get away from him, he turned towards one of the few windows in the throne room that wasn’t made of stained glass. Sure enough, there was the sun, beaming its late afternoon light into the cavernous chamber. He artlessly extended a hoof towards the golden orb. “But... it’s still light outside....”

Princess Luna dropped all pretense of stoicism at this point and actually groaned out loud, which didn’t do much to calm Pencil Pusher’s nerves. “While it is certainly true that my sister has yet to sink her sun below the horizon,” she explained with a notable edge to her voice, “none of our other royal duties actually require us to be active exclusively during the day or night. Thus, we normally take those duties in twelve-hour shifts all year round, as that makes scheduling much easier than varying our shifts to match the seasons. Do you follow?”

“Oh,” Pencil said, mostly to break the brief silence that had settled on the throne room when Luna had finished her explanation. He had a rather distinct impression that he wasn’t the first pony to commit this particular faux pas. “That... makes sense, I suppose.”

“Of course,” Luna continued as she dubiously squinted through her eyelids, “if this is truly an emergency as you claim, it should not matter which of us hears your plea.”

While this was true enough, Pencil Pusher had no desire to make the situation worse. He may not have had all the details about how the Elements of Harmony got their posts, but he was quite sure that there had been some sort of fight with Princess Luna, and this did not seem like the best time to open old wounds by name-dropping one of the ponies who had beaten her. “Ah, well, you see, this concerns the large fog bank currently located in central Equestria. I, uh, assume you’ve been given information on it.”

“Naturally, though my sister and I have only glanced through some brief abstracts that the Weather Department sent us. We came away with the distinct impression that the situation was under control.”

Pencil Pusher had to fight the urge to run a forehoof through his mane. That would make him look nervous, and now was not the time for nervousness. “Well, I suppose it is, for the moment. However, unless we act soon, the fog might solidify and cause problems for years to come.”

Luna nodded. “I understand your sense of urgency, but why bring this up with me? My sister and I were repeatedly assured that the Department of Weather could handle this matter internally.”

“Ah, yes, well... we thought we could, but as the fog’s unique qualities have come to light, our specialist has been forced to come up with a... er... novel solution, and it may require impinging on another Department’s jurisdiction.” Pencil Pusher felt a bead of sweat well up on his forehead as he silently berated himself for using excessive jargon—but on the other hoof, Princess Luna might very well think he was insulting her intelligence if his explanation was too simplified.

“Continue,” Luna said, her face frozen in the same unreadable expression as before.

“Well, basically, the magic that makes these clouds so useful as construction material is also making it very difficult to clear away. The specialist’s idea is to neutralize that magic by blowing it into the Everfree Forest, which should cause the pegasus magic to stop working. But since the Everfree Forest falls under the jurisdiction of the Interior Department, we’d need their approval before going forward.”

“And you were unable to get this approval?”

“Well, no... but only because they were closed by the time I got to Canterlot.”

“I see. And why does this situation require royal intervention?”

“Because we need the north winds to start blowing before sunrise to get them over the mountains before they set completely.”

Luna closed her eyes and let out a sigh. “That is, admittedly, a very creative solution, but I’m afraid I can not sanction it.”

“What?! Why?”

“Because it’s based on unfounded speculation. Nopony has been willing to properly study the Everfree Forest for centuries.”

Pencil Pusher desperately wracked his mind for something, anything that might save the plan. “But Fluttershy said she knows a zebra who lives there! That’s got to count for something, doesn’t it?”

Luna’s eyes flew open and she leaned forward, staring directly into the bureaucrat’s eyes. “Did you say, ‘Fluttershy’?”

Pencil Pusher’s emotional state shifted from desperation to full-blown panic. “Um, er, well, I mean, that is, uh... maybe?”

Apparently, Princess Luna had grown somewhat accustomed to her subjects panicking in her presence, if her derisive eyeroll was any indication. “Is there a particular reason why you’ve lost the ability to properly form a complete sentence?”

“Well... it’s just that Fluttershy’s our fog specialist, and, um, I thought...” Pencil Pusher trailed off, unable to think of a way to end his sentence without digging himself deeper.

Princess Luna, on the other hoof, now looked genuinely confused. “Why did you not mention that this plan was Fluttershy’s? You gave the impression that it consisted of the ramblings of a well-meaning but short-sighted clod, not one of the Element-Bearers.”

“Wait... so you don’t have a grudge against them?”

Luna’s face twisted in confusion. “Of course I don’t! It was their efforts that saved me from the Nightmare when I returned to Equestria. As far as I am concerned, their good judgement far exceeds that of ordinary ponies, and I am more than willing to sweep aside any personal doubts I may have to support Fluttershy’s plan.”

“So, you’ll grant permission to let the fog into the Everfree Forest?” Pencil asked hopefully as his ears perked up.

“Of course,” Princess Luna replied. She turned to one of her guards and said, “Have a scribe begin setting down the decree, then have it brought to the throne room posthaste so that the royal seal may be applied.”

As the bat-winged guard hurried off to do his Princess’ bidding, Pencil Pusher let out a sigh of relief. “Glad that’s taken care of. Now all I need to do is head back to Cloudsdale—”

“You will do no such thing,” Luna interjected.

Pencil Pusher looked stunned. “But... your Majesty, somepony needs to let them know that the plan is moving forward.”

“That much is true, but that pony is not you. I could tell that your right wing was injured the moment you walked into this chamber. You are in no condition to fly to the Canterlot market square, let alone to Cloudsdale.”

“But... I need to tell Fluttershy at least....”

Luna closed her eyes and solemnly declared, “You shall stay the night in one of our guest rooms. In the morning, you may return to Ponyville by train, pending the approval of one of the Royal Physicians.”

“Well, alright, but who’s going to let everypony in Cloudsdale know what’s going on?”

Luna was silent for a few seconds, tapping her chin with her hoof as she considered her response before the faintest curl of a smile appeared on her lips. The princess rose from her throne and strode confidently down to where the bureaucrat stood. She looked Pencil Pusher in the eye and said, “I shall travel there tonight and handle this matter personally.”

“Really? You’d do that?”

“If the situation is as serious as Fluttershy believes, we can’t afford any confusion, and my presence in Cloudsdale should quickly erase any doubts that might remain. Mark my words, Fluttershy will have her north winds by tomorrow afternoon, even if I have to fly to the Crystal Mountains and create them myself.” She turned towards two more guard ponies and issued another order: “Prepare my chariot!”

September 1 – 7:31 PM

Celestia let out a contented sigh as she gently pushed the sun beneath the horizon. There was a time when she had worried that she would one day tire of this task, but the centuries had fortunately proven those worries untrue. If anything, raising and setting the sun had become more enjoyable now that her sister had returned. During the summer, she was able to commence and end the day without any distractions, since Luna reigned over her Night Court during those times. Now, all that was left for her to do that evening was to sit back and enjoy the twilight’s remaining oranges and purples until her sister brought out the moon and the stars.

However, this evening’s reverie was somewhat short-lived, as Luna strode briskly out onto the observation tower’s balcony, her boots making metallic clacks each time they struck the cobblestones. “I’m sorry to interrupt you, sister, but I must inform you that I will be absent from Canterlot for most of the night.”

This came as a mild surprise to Celestia, as Luna’s sense of duty generally forbade her from missing a scheduled session of her Night Court without a good reason. “Is something wrong?”

“Indeed. Recent developments in regards to the fog recovery effort have necessitated direct Royal participation in regards to the fog specialist’s proposed agendum.”

Celestia couldn’t help but notice that Luna’s sentence had been excessively polysyllabic (even for her), which probably meant that she knew that she didn’t really need to get involved. “A princess is needed to make sure that the Weather Department is doing its job?” Celestia asked with a smirk. “Also, you said ‘in regards to’ twice.”

“I haven’t the time to think of synonyms at the moment,” Luna said with a tight-lipped frown. “And the plan is controversial enough that there must be no doubt that it has Royal approval.”

Celestia, however, wasn’t quite ready to change the subject. “Is the Night Court really that boring?”

Luna stiffened a bit, but then sighed as she adopted a more relaxed posture. “As a matter of fact, it is. Even though I’ve moved my court sessions to the early evening to better accommodate our subjects’ sleep patterns, it seems that most ponies would still rather have you solve their problems.”

“They’re just more familiar with me,” Celestia said with an encouraging smile. “Eventually, they’ll come around.”

“Be that as it may,” Luna replied, attempting to shift the conversation back to its original topic, “there has been enough confusion for one night, particularly since there’s little time to dither around. Fluttershy needs a gale to push that fog over the mountains and into the Everfree forest.”

“Ah, I can see why the department would be hesitant.”

Luna looked askance at her sister. “You are not surprised to learn that Fluttershy is the fog specialist?”

“Oh, no. I have a few private contacts in the Weather Department who can supplement the official reports. Why, were you surprised?”

“More than I should have been, apparently,” Luna grumbled, making a mental note to acquire some informal contacts of her own. “But to return to the point, I still have grave concerns about the plan, and I wish to be in a position where I can not only assist it, but also bring it to a halt if new information confirms my doubts.”

“If you’re so concerned, why didn’t you simply refuse?”

“I did at first, but then the liaison mentioned that it was Fluttershy’s idea. I should think it obvious that any public display that even hints at possible disunity between us and the Element-Bearers is not in Equestria’s best interest. They can not protect harmony in this land unless it is known that we trust them implicitly.”

“And do you?”

“Of course! I am assisting her with the plan, am I not? It’s just... well, I trust that Fluttershy has Equestria’s best interests in mind, but sometimes one needs a bit more than good intentions.”

“I see. Well, if it’s any consolation, I think her idea is a sound one, even if it is based on untested theory. I presume she expects the Everfree to remove the pegasus magic in the fog?”

“I believe so.”

“Then I think you’re taking the best course of action, assuming that somepony can get in touch with you if there is a reason to stop the plan.”

“She can simply have one of her friends go to sleep. I’ll be monitoring the Bearers’ dreams tonight for that purpose. Oh! That reminds me...” Luna produced a small scroll and gave it to her sister. “Would you mind using your connection with young Spike to send this letter to Fluttershy? I can’t exactly wait for her to fall asleep to explain what I’m doing.”

Celestia briefly skimmed over the letter’s contents as Luna raised the moon into the sky. Finding none of the archaic word choices that still occasionally slipped into her sister’s formal writing, she sent it off to to Ponyville in a flash of greenish-yellow light. “Well, I suppose you’ll need to be leaving soon,” she remarked to her sister.

“Indeed,” Luna replied, although her slightly downcast eyes suggested that she wasn’t quite ready to end the conversation just yet. “What do you really think of this plan?”

“Well, at the moment, you know more details than I do, but...”

“Yes?” Luna asked, beckoning her sister to finish her statement.

“...Fluttershy doesn’t seem like the type who’d make a decision like this lightly—not when the wellbeing of others is at stake.”

Luna’s eyelids narrowed in obvious consternation. “You haven’t actually answered my question.”

“I know,” Celestia said with a playful smile. “Now, I believe you have business to attend to in Cloudsdale, correct?”

Luna sighed and rolled her eyes as she exited the room. “Good evening, Celestia.”

September 1– 7:42 PM

By the time the Crusaders had selected their disco ball and brought it back to Sweet Apple Acres, there had only been a few minutes of sunlight left for them to install it, finishing their human trap—with the exception of Mr. Shnookums, who was entitled to spend the night indoors, as per his contract. This, however, brought none of the expected relief and jubilation, as the trio had encountered an unexpected snag.

“What are we gonna do about that party?” Scootaloo asked her friends as they reconvened in their clubhouse. A soft breeze flowed through the open windows, causing the lantern hanging from the ceiling to gently sway back and forth, making the shadows on the floor oscillate and somehow adding gravitas to the young pegasus’ question.

“Who says we gotta do anythin’?” Apple Bloom replied. “I mean, if our trap works, won’t the human be, y’know, trapped?”

“I’m not sure,” Sweetie Belle said. “Bon-Bon did say that humans were really, really smart, and their thumbs are opposable.”

“I thought we agreed that there was going to be a moraloralum on vocab words,” Scootaloo said angrily.

“It’s ‘moratorium,’” Sweetie Belle said indignantly, “and we never agreed to anything. You just don’t want to be reminded that you still have homework to do. Anyway, my point is that the human might be able to think of a way to escape if it’s caught.”

“Well, maybe we can come up with somethin’ that’ll keep it from gettin’ very far even if it does escape,” Apple Bloom suggested.

“You mean like another trap?” Scootaloo asked skeptically. “We don’t have time to come up with a second trap if this one fails.”

“We could go back to my first idea of digging a really big hole,” Sweetie Belle said.

“Alright, so we don’t have time to come up with a second trap that’s cool enough to be a backup to this one,” Scootaloo amended, earning a scornful glare from her friend. “Somepony needs to be around to make sure the human doesn’t get up to no good, and since Mr. Shnookums’ contract is pretty clear on the kinds of jobs we’re allowed to assign him, that somepony will have to be us.”

“But isn’t that a little dangerous?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“Maybe, but we’re talking about the safety of Equestria here!” Scootaloo replied, stamping a hoof against the floorboards for emphasis. “Besides, if it gets too hairy, we can just hurry back to the party, right?”

“Yeah,” Apple Bloom said, “but how’re we gonna get away from that party? I mean, the whole point is basically to keep foals from gettin’ out to where the fog might be.” Needless to say, Apple Bloom did not believe that she or her friends deserved to be called “foals,” but evidently their families disagreed.

“Well, maybe we can wait for a break in the party activities and sneak out,” Sweetie Belle said.

“I’m not so sure about that,” Apple Bloom said. “Pinkie gave the impression that this was going to be her ‘best party ever,’ and that probably means stuff will be goin’ on nonstop.”

“Well, that’s even better, right?” Scootaloo said. “If there’s tons of stuff happening, that means we’ll be more likely to slip away when Pinkie Pie’s not looking.”

“Except it ain’t just gonna be Pinkie Pie there,” Apple Bloom said earnestly. She leaned forward, causing the shifting shadows on her face to look even more melodramatic. “This party is supposed to be keeping the foals safe, so there’s probably gonna be a bunch of adults around to make sure nopony gets out who’s s’posed ta be stayin’ there. An’ I don’t think even Bon-Bon would let us out if she thought she was puttin’ us in danger, even if it’s to check on the human trap.”

“Well, maybe we can ask Bon-Bon to check it for us,” Sweetie Belle suggested.

Scootaloo shook her head. “That won’t work. If something other than a human sets off the trap, we’re the only ones who know how to reset it. It has to be us.”

“Maybe if one of us pretended to be sick, they might let us out to get to the hospital,” Apple Bloom said.

Sweetie Belle shook her head. “I’m willing to bet that there’s going to be at least one nurse there, just to make sure that nopony has to leave if something happens.”

Silence filled the clubhouse, interrupted only by the creaking of the lantern as it swayed back and forth in the breeze, and the occasional sound of Mr. Shnookums munching on one of the premium food pellets that had been stipulated in his contract.

“You know what?” Apple Bloom finally said. “I think we’re just gonna have to make it up as we go along.”

Scootaloo smirked. “That sounds like a plan to me.”

“What?! No, it doesn’t,” Sweetie Belle countered. “It sounds like a complete lack of a plan.”

“You’ve got a better idea?” Scootaloo said with a glare.

“No... I mean, I don’t have a problem with it. It’s just that it isn’t really a plan, because, you know, we haven’t actually planned anything.”

Scootaloo sighed. “Okay, how about this, then? Tomorrow morning, we double-check the trap to make sure it’s properly set up, then we go to the party, and leave as soon as we can.”

Sweetie Belle rubbed her chin as she thought this over. “That sounds a little bit more like a plan, I guess.”

Apple Bloom extended her hoof between the the three of them. “Cutie Mark Crusaders Go?” she asked.

Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle looked at each other for about a second before nodding and adding their hooves to the center. “Go!”

September 2 – ?:?? AM

When Luna entered Fluttershy’s dream, she was expecting it to be covered in a misty haze—not necessarily because the pegasus was in the midst of dealing with a particularly nasty fog, but because most ponies’ dreams were hazy and indistinct to some degree or another. Thus, it was with some surprise that the princess walked into a dream with clear, vivid imagery, and it was with even greater surprise that she came upon Fluttershy engaged in a pickup basketball game with three monkeys, a walrus, and a chupacabra. The teams seemed evenly matched: it was two monkeys and the chupacabra against Fluttershy, the walrus, and the third monkey, with Fluttershy’s ability to fly making up for the walrus’ inability to jump. Luna couldn’t help but notice that Fluttershy’s dream seemed to be adhering rather closely to the known laws of physics and magic (though not the commonly-accepted rules of basketball) as the pegasus took flight and completed an alley-oop from the walrus.

After a few minutes, though, the game was over, congratulations abounded, and the walrus walked off flipper-in-arm with Fluttershy’s primate teammate. It was only then that the pegasus noticed Luna’s presence. “Oh, Princess Luna! I, um, didn’t see you there. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”

“Oh, you needn’t worry about taking up my time,” Luna said. “After all, time itself becomes quite distorted in a dream.”

“In a dream?” Fluttershy repeated. An instant later, her eyes widened the implication clicked. “I’m dreaming! Wait... why haven’t I woken up?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Well, it’s just that I normally wake up as soon as I realize I’m dreaming.”

“Ah. Well, I’d venture to guess that you don’t normally have an experienced dreamwalker visiting your dreams.”

“Oh, well, I suppose that’s true.”

“In any case,” Luna said as she straightened up into a more formal posture, “I am here to inform you that the north winds you requested have started blowing. Assuming the calculations your liaison provided to the Weather Department are still valid, the fog should reach Ponyville shortly after noon.”

“Thank you,” Fluttershy said, though she still seemed distinctly uncomfortable.

“Is something the matter?” Luna asked.

“No, it’s just, well, once you’re gone, I’ll still know that I’m dreaming, which means I’ll wake up again, and I really want to be rested for tomorrow.”

Luna smiled. “I see. Well,” she said, her voice suddenly dispersing into soft echoes, “I think I can take care of that....”

September 2 – 6:31 AM

Unsurprisingly, ten hours of sleep in the most comfortable bed Pencil Pusher had ever lain in left the bureaucrat feeling much better when he woke to the first rays of sunshine breaking on the horizon. His first reaction, naturally, was to close his eyes again, pull the extra-fluffy comforter over his head, and go back to sleep, because nopony in their right minds would ever want to leave a bed this heavenly. He was moments away from drifting back to dreamland when he abruptly realized that time spent in a comfortable bed was time not being spent around Fluttershy. Suddenly, being in one’s right mind seemed quite overrated.

Pencil Pusher flung the comforter back and dragged himself out of the bed so he could stare at the guest room’s exquisitely decorated mirror. His mane and tail were as shaggy as ever, but for the first time in recent memory, his eyes weren’t bloodshot. He stretched out his wings and gave them a few tentative flaps—everything seemed to be in good working order. A few seconds spent hovering in the air boosted his confidence even more. “Alright,” he said as he flew over to the balcony doors and pushed them open, revealing the cityscape of Canterlot before him. “Breakfast can wait. It’s high time I got back to Ponyville.”

The bureaucrat took to the skies... for all of about two seconds before colliding with a large, bat-winged stallion in purple armor who immediately pushed him back inside his room.

“I’m sorry, sir, but we can’t let you do that just yet.”

“Huh?” Pencil Pusher said. “What gives? Tax season isn’t for another six months!”

“Seven, actually,” the guard replied, “but I’m not acting as a tax collector at the moment. The Princess was concerned that in your excitement, you’d attempt leave without the approval of one of the royal physicians.”

“Oh, right.” Pencil had completely forgotten about that part of Luna’s order. “Well, when can you get one of those doctors? I really shouldn’t be hanging around Canterlot longer than necessary.”

The guard responded with a brief nod. “Princess Luna suspected as much, so she’s scheduled an appointment for you an hour from now.”

“An hour?!”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Pusher, but it’s the earliest time slot available. If it’s any consolation, though, should the doctor approve, you’ll be traveling back to Ponyville on one of the Princesses’ private train cars.”

Pencil Pusher sighed. “Fine,” he replied, mostly because he could tell he didn’t have a chance at winning this argument. “Can I at least get some breakfast while I’m waiting for the doctor to show up?”

“I’ll have somepony bring you a menu.”

September 2 – 6:48 AM

The Cutie Mark Crusaders reconvened in their clubhouse in the morning for two reasons. First of all, Mr. Shnookums’ contract stipulated that he be served a homemade breakfast in bed, followed by a vigorous deep-tissue massage before he took part in their human trap. Once these contractual obligations were attended to, the three fillies could begin discussing the issue that had come up the previous afternoon: the fog party. Though it was not in their nature to try and avoid Pinkie Pie’s parties, this one was getting in the way of their cutie marks, which meant that it was imperative that they devise some means of getting away from it as soon as possible.

Fortunately, Scootaloo had stumbled onto an ideal solution, which she had been itching to explain since sunrise. “Well, I was laying in bed—”

“Lying in bed,” Sweetie Belle corrected.

Scootaloo ignored her friend’s latest attempt to sneak educational content into what little remained of their summer vacation. “I was laying in bed when I remembered that we still haven’t opened up the mail-order spy kit we got a few weeks ago.”

Comprehension immediately dawned on her companions’ faces, followed soon after by broad smiles. “Of course!” Apple Bloom exclaimed. “Everypony knows that spies gotta escape from traps all the time, so there’s bound to be somethin’ we can use to get outta Bon-Bon’s bunker.”

“Do you have it with you?” Sweetie Belle asked, having completely forgotten about her previous concerns about her friend’s grammar.

Scootaloo held up an important-looking metal briefcase and tapped it confidently with her hoof. “I’ve got it right here.”

Apple Bloom eyed the spy kit greedily. “What do y’all think’s in there?”

“I’m not sure, actually,” Scootaloo said, “but it’s got to have some awesome stuff. Like maybe miniature cutting tools hidden in watches, or one of those keys that unlocks anything.”

“A skeleton key?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“Why would anypony want to unlock a skeleton?” Scootaloo said with a confused look on her face.

“Maybe there’ll be one of them grapplin’ hooks like in the comics,” Apple Bloom said.

“What good would a grappling hook do in a sealed underground bunker?” Sweetie Belle said.

Apple Bloom shrugged. “I dunno. Grapplin’ hooks are just cool, that’s all.”

“Well, if you ask me,” Sweetie Belle said (despite the fact that she hadn’t been asked), “the most practical thing would be a flashbang grenade.”

“Okay, that’s the first new word you’ve said all summer that actually sounds like it’s worth knowing,” Scootaloo replied. “What is it?”

“They’re really loud and really bright and they can disorient a lot of ponies so we can make our getaway.”

“Huh... that does sound useful,” Scootaloo said.

“Well, why are just standin’ around yammerin’?” Apple Bloom asked. “Open the dang thing so we can see what we’re workin’ with here!”

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle crowded behind Scootaloo as the pegasus filly released the latches on the case. Slowly, she lifted the case’s lid, and as the three fillies looked inside, their faces were bathed in a warm, orange glow. “What do you suppose that light bulb is for?” Sweetie Belle asked, pointing at the small, incandescent orb attached to the case’s lid.

Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “Obviously, it’s there so you can see the inside of the briefcase at night,” she said.

The first layer of stuff was mostly for communication—decoder rings, jars of invisible ink, that sort of thing. Beneath that, there was a book about codes and ciphers and several false envelopes for dead drops, as well as a pair of sunglasses with built-in rear-view mirrors. But beneath that layer... was the bottom of the briefcase.

“You’re kiddin’ me!” Apple Bloom exclaimed. “This can’t be all, can it? Where’s the lasers? Where’s the deadly weapons that look like harmless junk? There ain’t even any canisters of knockout gas!”

“I don’t know!” Scootaloo replied as she frantically looked over the empty case.

“Maybe there’s a false bottom,” Sweetie Belle said with a rather forced tone of confidence. “Spies always have secret compartments in their stuff.”

“I’m looking, I’m looking!” Scootaloo insisted. But several fruitless minutes of searching led the fillies to conclude that more drastic measures were needed, and Apple Bloom went off to find a hammer and chisel.

“There’s got to be something useful in there,” Sweetie Belle insisted as Apple Bloom’s hoofbeats faded away. “I mean, if you can’t trust the mail-order ads from the back of a comic book, who can you trust?”

September 2 – 7:02 AM

Fluttershy and her committee of friends met in the library, and after a quick breakfast of puffed oats and coffee, they went over the schedule for the day. The timetable was relatively simple: around nine o’clock that morning, the weather team would cut the crosswinds that normally kept ordinary weather from drifting into the Everfree Forest. Pinkie Pie’s party would begin around ten-thirty, which would allow plenty of time for latecomers to show up before the fog spilled over the Unicorn Range at midday. With any luck, it would all be over before dinner.

As the group split up to take care of their various duties, Twilight Sparkle pulled Rarity aside. “Could we talk for a bit?”

“I suppose,” the fashionista replied as she cocked her head to one side, “but I don’t have much time. I need to get Rainbow Dash into her fog suit, or else she might not have time to collect more data for you before meeting with the weather team.”

“It’ll be quick, I promise,” Twilight said reassuringly. “In fact, it’s actually about Rainbow.”

“Oh?”

Twilight nodded enthusiastically. “Fluttershy was talking to her last night, and she thinks Rainbow might have developed a crush.”

Rarity’s eyes lit up as her mouth spread into a grin. There was no gossip quite like romantic gossip, particularly when it concerned one’s friends. “Do tell! Who’s the lucky pony?”

“Pencil Pusher!” Twilight said excitedly. “You know, the bureaucrat who’s been helping Fluttershy out?”

Rarity’s grin was still frozen in place, yet all of the joy still seemed to drain from her expression as her pupils shrank and one of her eyelids acquired a nearly imperceptible twitch. “Yes, I remember him quite well from yesterday,” she replied, attempting to keep her tone of voice calm.

“Isn’t it incredible?”

“I can hardly believe it myself,” Rarity replied. As images of a bodice-clad Rainbow Dash melting in the forelegs of an oddly muscular Pencil Pusher floated through her head, Rarity could at least take some miniscule comfort in the fact that her reply to Twilight had been truthful: the very idea was not merely unbelievable, but completely and utterly absurd.

And yet....

September 2 – 7:14 AM

Rarity’s mind was still on Twilight’s claims as she entered the Carousel Boutique. Rainbow Dash was waiting for her, sitting in a hard-backed wooden chair and leaning back far enough for the front two legs to rise off the floor. Apparently, she’d gotten bored and had been attempting to amuse herself by maintaining her balance with the remaining legs. “So, what held you up?” she asked casually, keeping most of her attention on the precarious piece of furniture beneath her.

“What — did — you — do?!” Rarity asked, her voice rising in volume with each word until she was close to a scream as her muzzle crumpled into a most unladylike snarl.

There was a loud clatter as the chair toppled over, leaving Rainbow Dash lying on her back. “Uh... when I realized that you weren’t coming here right away, I decided to sit down and wait for you,” she replied in a somewhat guarded tone. “Though I’m guessing that’s not what you meant,” she added when Rarity’s venomous glare continued unabated.

“I was just speaking with Twilight Sparkle,” Rarity said, her voice having returned to its normal volume, but still drenched in indignation, “and it appears that as of last night, Fluttershy has become convinced that you are eyeing Pencil Pusher for yourself!”

“What?!” Rainbow Dash shouted as she jumped into the air. “That’s crazy! How could she possibly think that?”

“I was hoping you could tell me. You didn’t happen to talk to Fluttershy about Mr. Pusher last night, did you?”

“Well, yeah, but it was only to, you know, get her thinking seriously about him as a special somepony. I mean, I just sort of pointed out that he wasn’t really that bad a catch, you know? I was totally downplaying it the whole time, though, so she wouldn’t feel pressured to get together with him.”

“Downplaying? Rainbow Dash, you never downplay anything unless you think it’s ‘uncool’ to be seen as taking an interest in it.”

Rainbow seemed a bit taken aback by this observation. She landed on the floor and walked closer to her friend. “What do you mean?”

“The first time you read a Daring Do novel, you tried to convince us that you only found it mildly amusing.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Also, you’re always standoffish with your pet turtle unless you think nopony’s looking.”

“Tank is a tortoise, not a turtle, and I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about those quick little nose rubbings you give him when you think the rest of us aren’t paying attention to the two of you. But I digress. The point is that when you’re obviously trying to make us think that something isn’t important to you, we generally assume that it is, because you happen to be tremendously bad at concealing your own interests.”

“So... when I told Fluttershy that Pencil Pusher was pretty cool for a desk jockey...” Rainbow Dash’s eyes widened as she realized how the previous night’s conversation must have gone. “Oh, crud...”

Rarity squared her jaw as she continued her scolding. “Rainbow, you know how Fluttershy is... she’ll go out of her way to make any of us happy, and that could very well include rejecting any overtures from Pencil Pusher just so you can have him for your own.”

Rainbow Dash hung her head low. “Yeah... that does sound like something she’d do. So what do I do now?”

“Obviously, you fix what you’ve broken,” Rarity replied with a disdainful shake of her head.

“No kidding,” Rainbow said with mild irritation. “But how am I supposed to do that?”

“My dear, I haven’t the slightest idea.”

“Oh, come on! You can’t be telling me that a mess like this has never come up in your cheesy romance novels.”

Rarity looked offended. “Rainbow Dash, I will not stand by and listen to you defame my taste in popular culture,” she bristled. “My romance novels may be complete and utter trash, but they are never cheesy.”

Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry.”

Rarity gave a very loud sniff before delivering her curt response. “Apology accepted.”

“Great. Now, spill the beans and tell me how they deal with this problem in romance novels.”

“Er, well, that’s just the thing. You see...”

“Yes?” Rainbow Dash said, beckoning Rarity to finish her sentence as she leaned in to catch the response.

“Well, when situations like this happen in romance novels, it’s usually the would-be matchmaker who ends up with the stallion.”

Rainbow Dash slumped down onto her haunches, looking deflated. “Well, this is just peachy, isn’t it?”

Rarity finally permitted herself to smile at her friend as she pulled out the fabric and thread for the fog suit. “Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll come up with something. At the very least, we have until Pencil returns to set things right.”

September 2 – 7:17 AM

“Alright, if you’d just extend your wings fully again for me...”

Pencil Pusher sighed as he complied with the physician’s request. This mare certainly had a calming demeanor about her, though her tendency to trail off before she finished her sentences felt a bit condescending. Pencil silently reminded himself that the doctor had no reason to think that he’d be particularly bothered by authority figures who spoke using subordinate clauses. This mare was certainly a lot more polite than Greg, though admittedly, that wasn’t a particularly high bar for anypony to clear.

Far more relevant, in any case, was the fact that she was a pegasus—like a lot of pegasi, Pencil Pusher had always been uncomfortable with the idea of letting a doctor without wings poke and prod at a potential wing injury. Reading medical textbooks could probably give unicorns and earth ponies a vague idea of what wings were like, but they were no substitute for having a pair of your own to worry about on a day-to-day basis.

“Now, a few cycles, please...”

Pencil Pusher complied, slowly flapping his wings without taking off. The doctor—Blue Horizon, according to her name tag—was certainly being quick and professional about this examination. Apparently, she’d been told that he needed to leave later that morning.

“Okay... looks good. Just avoid unnecessary flying for at least twenty-four hours.”

Pencil Pusher sighed. “Got it. So, can I catch my train, then?”

Dr. Horizon nodded. “Princess Luna’s private rail car... You’re a lucky pony, even if it’s only for ninety minutes or so.”

Pencil Pusher appreciated that the doctor was showing some interest in her patient beyond professional obligations, but he didn’t really have much time for small talk. “Thanks a lot, doc,” he said as he hoisted his saddlebag onto his back and opened the door to leave. “If you’re taking care of the princesses’ wings, I’m sure they’re in good hooves.”

September 2 – 7:53 AM

Lyra sighed as she waited in Bon-Bon’s living room; they had decided to get together several hours before they needed to arrive at the town hall so that they wouldn’t be distracted by Pinkie Pie’s last-minute party preparations while getting ready for the safety patrol. Truth be told, though, Lyra had mixed feelings about Bon-Bon’s participation. Sure, Bon-Bon was a really interesting pony to hang out with, once you got past her pointlessly irrational hatred of humanity, but there would be no getting past it today. The humans were coming, and if Bon-Bon was the one who met them, disaster would certainly be the end result. Thus, what should have been an occasion for excitement and anticipation had been tempered by the fact that Lyra would almost certainly need to supervise her friend to keep her from needlessly provoking those wonderful primates.

Still, Lyra was doing as best she could to look at this positively. With Bon-Bon on the safety patrol, and Lyra present to hold her paranoia in check, the candymaker would doubtless realize the error of her bigotry, and SPHERE could finally set out to perform the great work for which it had been founded. Plus, she’d finally get to experience a massage from their strong, dextrous, yet still gentle fingers, but this goal was secondary to SPHERE’s noble purpose (mostly because she knew that Bon-Bon would never have approved its addition to the society’s charter).

The unicorn already had everything she needed in her saddlebags: a scarf and a winter coat to protect her from the chill of the fog, and a bright flashlight with fresh batteries to make it easier for the humans to find her. She’d considered making some welcoming treats for them as well, but she’d decided against it, mostly because she wasn’t sure which plants were safe for humans to eat. It would certainly not be good first impression if the diplomats keeled over after eating a salad containing plants that their systems couldn’t handle. That said, Lyra felt quite certain that she was adequately prepared to meet the humans and to help out her community.

Bon-Bon, on the other hoof, walked out of her bedroom covered from head to hoof with sturdy, matte-black armor, complete with steel-reinforced boots for each leg and a rather menacing helmet. Of course, the ensemble was not yet complete; Bon-Bon still needed to find something that could function as a weapon, as she had misplaced the baton that came with the suit.

Lyra sighed as she massaged her temple. Naturally, she hadn’t been naïve enough to think that her friend would be willing to meet humans without something to protect herself, but this was ridiculous. “Bon-Bon, why do you even have riot gear in the first place?”

“Because traditional armor leaves too much of the body exposed,” Bon-Bon replied as she flipped up the visor that protected her face. Of course, this was a rather odd justification, since the riot gear left her billowy, multicolored tail open, but the candymaker explained this away as a “comfort issue.”

“Okay, let me rephrase that. Why have you gone to the trouble of getting armor in the first place?”

“Not everypony can cast magic spells to protect them, in case you haven’t noticed, and, if pony society breaks down, you’d expect the occasional flare-up. Oh, and of course, it should provide some protection from human weapons. Speaking of weapons, I need to find one of my own. The best defense is still a good offense, after all.”

Lyra sighed. “Bon-Bon, you’re being ridiculous.”

“Oh? So, I suppose you’re willing to cast some magic spell at the humans once they’ve got us cornered, then?”

“Of course not! That goes against everything I stand for!”

“Which is why I need to find something to protect both of us. Hmm... the fog will probably be too thick for long-range weapons, so the crossbow’s out....” Bon-Bon started scrounging around for something that looked suitable dangerous and intimidating.

Lyra, however, wasn’t about to let the subject drop. “And how do you expect to wield a short-range weapon while wearing boots that thick?”

Bon-Bon paused. “Actually... that’s a good point. I suppose I could hold something in my mouth, but that would make the visor a bit pointless.”

“Good. Then maybe you’ll consider dropping this insanity. You already look hostile enough in that riot gear to begin with.”

Bon-Bon’s eyes lit up. “Of course! This body armor gives me enough mass and protection to be my own weapon! I can just charge in like a battering ram. Lyra, you’re brilliant.”

“What? No! That’s not the conclusion you were supposed to come to!”

“Okay, you’re a hopeless fool, then. Point is, I’m pretty sure I’ve got adequate protection from those bipedal monstrosities, so I’m ready to leave.” Bon-Bon turned around and began walking confidently towards her front door.

Lyra rolled her eyes. “You realize we don’t actually have to arrive at the town hall for another two hours or so, right?”

Bon-Bon halted in mid-stride. “Oh. Uh, then could you help me get this stuff off? My croup is starting to itch.”

September 2 – 8:16 AM

By now, Celestia’s late-summer sun had risen high enough into the air to begin its daily scorching of the Equestrian countryside, but the relatively arid conditions around Ponyville meant that it wasn’t particularly unbearable, especially for the weather team, who had often worked in far muggier conditions over the previous months. This, however, was of little comfort to Rainbow Dash, whose fog suit was only slightly less breathable than foam rubber. Whoever had designed this thing clearly never expected that it would need to be used in the sun for extended periods of time, as the only concession to the possibility was the material’s reflective surface—and even that seemed like it might have been unintentional.

Still, this was not the time to indulge in unprofessional vices like whining and complaining. Rainbow Dash knew she had more important things to deal with, like supervising the weather team as they shut down the crosswinds on the border of the Everfree Forest or fixing the mess that she’d inadvertently caused with her amateur matchmaking attempt. The first problem was a relatively simple matter of redirecting air currents; as there weren’t any jetstreams in the area to make things difficult, this had gone quite smoothly.

The second problem was another matter entirely. Rainbow Dash’s first instinct was to make some dismissive comments about Pencil Pusher, but she knew right away that that wouldn’t work. Not only might it cause Fluttershy to think less of the bureaucrat, but Pencil Pusher really didn’t deserve any put-down she could think of, particularly since he’d done nothing to create this situation in the first place. Thus, she was still attempting to work out an alternate plan while the crosswind petered out into stillness and most of the weather team left to make final preparations for the incoming fog.

She was just about to head back to town to see if Fluttershy had anything else for her to do when a voice broke through her concentration. “What’s going on here? You’re flying about, but there are no clouds or winds here to drive out.”

Rainbow Dash looked up to see a zebra standing just inside the Everfree Forest with a rather bemused expression on her striped face. “Oh, hey, Zecora,” she replied as she flew over to the potioneer. “We’ve actually just finished shutting down an air current to get ready for the fog that’ll be coming through in a few hours. Redirecting winds can be a little complicated, even if it doesn’t make for a good show for spectators. There’s a lot of coordinated wing-flapping involved.”

Zecora’s confusion remained. “That seems an unusually tedious slog for something as mundane as a blanket of fog.”

Rainbow Dash looked stunned. “Mundane? Zecora, we’re only talking about the most dangerous fog since... well... since ever, probably. I mean, why else do you think we’ve been making a big deal about it for the last two days?”

Zecora looked somewhat indignant, and she stamped one of her forehooves against the ground as she answered, “There’s no need to speak in a tone quite so sour. I’ve been in my hut these last forty-eight hours.”

This was definitely unexpected news. “You mean... nopony’s bothered to tell you what’s happening?”

The zebra silently shook her head.

“Aw, crud, how did we miss that? You really should know what’s going on, especially since the fog’s getting sent into the Everfree Forest.”

“It seems there’s much to gain in allowing you to explain,” Zecora said.

“Oh, uh, okay,” Rainbow Dash said uncertainly. “Well, basically, there was an accident in Cloudsdale, and there’s huge, insanely thick fog bank just north of the mountains, and because the clouds were meant as some sort of new construction material, we’re having trouble getting rid of it. Fluttershy decided that the best way to do that was to send it into the Everfree Forest so that all the pegasus magic in it disappears and it starts acting like normal fog again, which is pretty easy to deal with.”

Zecora bobbed her head approvingly. “When Fluttershy was gearing up to take her test, she thought fog in the Everfree might be addressed. I gladly recounted all my observations, and Fluttershy recorded extensive notations. But enough about that—the past isn’t pressing, and it seems that the present is far more distressing. Still, I like this plan to dispel the fog’s magic. Is that why your outfit is fashionably tragic?”

Rainbow let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Uh, yeah. Like I said, the fog is really thick; so thick that pegasi can’t fly through it without special protective gear like this fog suit.” There was a brief lull in the conversation, and it was at this point that Rainbow Dash came up with an idea to deal with her other problem: namely, get somepony else to come up with a better idea. Zecora was intelligent, impartial, and most importantly, available at the moment—surely she’d know some piece of ancient zebra wisdom she could use. “Uh, say, Zecora? I was wondering if you could help me out a bit...”

Zecora’s facial expression didn’t change as Rainbow Dash explained how her misadventures in matchmaking were now threatening to crush whatever romance might have been budding between Fluttershy and Pencil Pusher. “I shall gladly assist as my experience permits,” she said evenly, “but why would you ask for such help from a hermit?”

“Well, of course that’d be a bad idea,” Rainbow Dash said. “Since when do crabs understand anything about matchmaking?”

Zecora rolled her eyes and explained herself further. “A solitary life offers little romance, so to take my advice would mean taking a chance.”

“Oh,” Rainbow said as her ears drooped in disappointment. “Still, I’m willing to listen to any idea you might have, because right now, I’ve got nothing.”

Zecora shifted her weight awkwardly as a few scattered ideas formed in her mind. Finally, she hesitantly replied, “You... er... could try flirting with a different pony, though Fluttershy might suspect that act is phony.” The zebra’s uneasy expression, combined with the fact that she’d interrupted her meter with a noncommittal syllable, gave the impression that she would not take offense if Rainbow Dash rejected this suggestion outright.

Rainbow Dash, however, wasn’t in any position to simply reject an idea just because it was blatantly unfeasible. “Well, it’s certainly better than anything I’ve come up with. Might as well give it a shot. Thanks, Zecora.”

“You should not thank me quite so quickly. That advice could make things more prickly.”

“Uh, right.” Rainbow Dash didn’t mean to sound flippant, but Zecora’s advice really was better than anything she’d thought of on her own. “Say, you want to come into town for the day? I mean, I don’t think anypony wants you stuck in the Everfree Forest if the plan doesn’t work the way Fluttershy expects.”

The zebra seemed to consider this for a few moments, but eventually she shook her head. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m afraid I must decline. I’ve several potions brewing that are sensitive to time. Besides, my hut is very warm, with superb insulation, and I can get to town with my own means of navigation. No, I think it would best for me to stay safely inside, but I will cheer you on until your troubles all subside.”

September 2 – 8:42 AM

Sadly, the Crusaders’ heroic efforts to find a false bottom in their spy kit’s case left them with little more than a completely ruined steel briefcase. It seemed that “making something up” really was going to be their best option for getting away from the party, which of course meant that there was a chance that they wouldn’t find any means of escaping from the subterranean carnival of joy and delight that Pinkie Pie had in store for them.

Thus, the three of them determined that their remaining hours were best spent checking, double-checking, and re-double-checking all of the moving parts of their trap, in case they couldn’t make it out to keep a close watch on the proceedings themselves. In particular, Scootaloo was placed in charge of taking care of the most motion-prone part of the trap. After all, she was the one who’d negotiated his contract in the first place.

“Okay, Mr. Shnookums,” she said as she gently placed the hamster inside the specially modified hamster wheel. “We’ve held up our end of the bargain. You’ve had food, pampering, and we’ve even gotten a space heater for you to use when the fog rolls in.” That last part had been a real stroke of luck—Sweetie Belle had discovered it lying on Fluttershy’s coffee table when the trio had first gone to her cottage to “borrow” the hamster, and somehow Scootaloo doubted that they could have found a miniature space heater in any other way. “Now, it’s your turn.”

Mr. Shnookums responded with a series of flippant squeaks. Even though Scootaloo didn’t speak hamster, she still thought his tone of voice was unprofessionally overconfident. “I’m serious, Shnookums,” she said, glowering somewhat at the small rodent. “If you don’t do your part, the whole shebang is for nothing.” Truth be told, Scootaloo wasn’t quite sure what a “shebang” actually was (mostly because Ms. Cheerilee didn’t seem all that interested in teaching them cool vocabulary words), but all the work she and her friends had put into it over the past two days certainly made it feel “shebangy.”

This time Mr. Shnookums’ reply was a bit more hesitant. Scootaloo decided that a little bit of intimidation couldn’t hurt. “Remember, we have a contract. We’ve done our part, so if you don’t do yours, not even Angel Bunny will be able to protect you from... the consequences.” Scootaloo leaned forward and glared directly into Mr. Shnookums’ tiny eyes when she mentioned “the consequences.” That was one vocabulary word she did know, mostly because her parents liked using it all the time while scolding her. They included such not-fun things a being grounded and extra chores, and on one particularly memorable instance, having her mouth washed out with soap by her great-aunt Crochet.

Granted, Scootaloo wasn’t sure if any of those consequences was appropriate for a hamster who’d breached his contract, but surely there was something unpleasant she and her friends would be allowed to do, and with any luck, Mr. Shnookums had some vague idea of what that could be.

Apparently, he did, as the hamster simply nodded nervously. “Great!” Scootaloo said in an oddly chipper tone. “We’ll see you later, then.”

September 2 – 8:58 AM

Pencil Pusher stared out the windows as the train’s wheel ground to a halt with a high-pitched squeal and felt a mild pang of regret that the ninety-minute journey had ended so quickly. Every other time he’d taken a journey by rail, there had always been noticeable jostling as the train swayed back and forth over the tracks, but this had felt more like hovering than rolling over train tracks. The car itself was decked out in every shade of green he’d ever seen, and his “seat” was more like a massive, velvet cushion than a chair. Plus, the staff was extremely polite and well-mannered, checking in every ten minutes or so to see if there was anything he desired, but Pencil Pusher felt that the string quartet playing chamber music in one corner of the car was more than enough for his purposes, although he wasn’t about to turn down a complimentary glass of sparkling rose water. Indeed, it was so relaxing that Pencil Pusher found himself wondering why the princesses even bothered with their chariots.

Still, all good things had to come to an end, especially when there were even better things on the horizon, such as talking to Fluttershy again. It was at this point, as he was walking towards the train car’s door, that a somewhat troubling thought occurred to him: he didn’t have anything to talk to her about. For the first time, he didn’t actually have any official business from Cloudsdale to report to her. Even though his news hadn’t always been particularly good, the fact that Fluttershy needed to hear what he had to say had been a fairly reliable pretext for talking to her.

By the time he had stepped onto the wooden planks of the station’s platform, Pencil Pusher’s face displayed genuine concern. Obviously, he needed to talk to Fluttershy, but for the first time, she didn’t need to talk to him. In fact, given that she was probably going to be extremely occupied throughout the day, it seemed vital that any conversations between the two of them have some sort of clear, relevant point, at least until the fog problem had been handled.

“But how do I bring up any sort of topic without it coming off as awkward?” Pencil Pusher said aloud.

“Well, for starters, you can try not talking to yourself in public,” a nearby stallion replied sarcastically.

It was only when Pencil Pusher turned to find the source of the anonymous voice that he noticed that the Ponyville train station was actually rather crowded, no doubt due to the number of ponies who had decided that the fog presented an ideal reason to go on vacation. Feeling a bit chagrined, he mumbled a quick apology to those ponies who were staring at him and made his way out of the station and into town.

September 2 – 9:25 AM

The walk from Ponyville’s train station to its library ordinarily took about ten minutes—though it could easily take as much as fifteen minutes on busy market days, during special events, or when the town was under attack from some manner of eldritch abomination. However, Pencil Pusher was in no particular hurry to arrive at his destination, at least not until he had a natural-sounding conversation topic to present to Fluttershy. He managed to come up with several vague ideas, but shot them all down just as quickly: he had no clue if Fluttershy followed the local sports team (or, for that matter, if Ponyville even had a local sports team), and “How about that weather?” was just plain awkward, given the situation. This issue would be much less vexing if he had any clue how he could actually be of help now that his connections at the DOW were no longer relevant...

Pencil Pusher nearly slapped his forehead when he realized that the obvious solution had been staring him right in the face. Without further ado, he trotted over to the library, opened the door, and walked inside.

Fluttershy was conversing with two of her friends—Rarity and Twilight Sparkle, though at the moment, he couldn’t remember which was the purple unicorn and which was the white one, though he did remember that the latter of the two had gladly offered to support his pursuit of Fluttershy. Speaking of whom, Fluttershy was now wearing a silver fog suit of her own, although at the moment its cowl was hanging loosely around her neck, allowing her pink mane to flow freely. Oddly enough, she’d decided to wear her burgundy cravat and collar on top of this, but he supposed it didn’t look too bad, although Rarity (he was now feeling a bit more certain that that was the white unicorn’s name) seemed less than pleased with this decision. “Oh, Pencil Pusher! You’re back,” Fluttershy said as he closed the door behind him, giving him a warm smile. “Is there any news from Cloudsdale?”

“Uh, none that I’m aware of,” Pencil Pusher said. “Luna gave the impression that she’d talk to you herself.”

“Oh, she did,” Fluttershy said with a nod. “So, um, what brings you here, then?”

“Oh, I just wanted to know if there was anything I could do to help you out. I’d like to see this thing through to the end.”

“Really? Well, I’m sure there’s something you can do.” Fluttershy’s face was unusually hard to read. It was certainly optimistic, but it wasn’t the same kind of optimism that she had shown when she’d finally accepted that her tax problems were nonexistent. That time, there had been definite relief in Fluttershy’s demeanor, but this time, there seemed to be a vague edgy feeling that Pencil Pusher couldn’t quite identify. Then again, he had just entered the library rather suddenly, so perhaps she was still in the process of switching her attention from one thing to another. “Let’s see... maybe you can help out Rainbow Dash and the weather team. After all, you do work with the department.”

Twilight Sparkle nodded. “That sounds like a really good idea to me.”

“Impossible!” Rarity abruptly shouted, startling the other three ponies in the room. When the awkward silence that came after this outburst refused to fade, the unicorn followed up by trying to restore some normalcy. “I... I mean, Mr. Pusher can’t assist the weather team, can he? Shouldn’t those crosswinds be taken care of by now?”

“Even if they haven’t, the doctor who cleared me to return here after my injury told me to avoid unnecessary flying for at least a day,” Pencil Pusher added.

“I suppose you have a point there,” Fluttershy conceded. “Well, perhaps you can stay here with Twilight and help her analyze the data Rainbow Dash will be bringing back from the fog.”

“Oh, but I... I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Rarity replied, her eyes darting back and forth as if she was desperately trying come up with some sort of inspiration. Pencil Pusher had seen a similar expression on Greg’s face a few times, usually when the paunchy pegasus was trying to justify something to his boss.

Pencil Pusher wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, but he had a hunch it had something to do with setting him up on a date with Fluttershy, if only because Rarity had seemed so keen on playing matchmaker the previous day. “I’m not sure I’d be of much help to Twilight,” he said. “Unless you need some sort of cost-benefit analysis, I’m out of my league when it comes to number-crunching.”

The relief on Rarity’s face was unmistakable; on seeing this Fluttershy briefly exchanged a bemused glance with Twilight Sparkle before offering another suggestion. “Well, I guess you could see if Pinkie Pie could use some help with the party. With all those foals in one place, I’m sure she can use some more supervision.”

Admittedly, this would not have been Pencil Pusher’s preference if he’d been given a choice in the matter. It wasn’t that he didn’t like foals, but being around them reminded him of his own foalhood, and his memories of himself as a colt tended to make his grown-up self want to smash his head against the nearest wall, because he had been excessively precocious and obnoxious in his youth. But, on the other hoof, this would give him a chance to show that he could be a mature, responsible authority figure around foals, which would hardly be a negative if it turned out that Fluttershy had motherhood in the back of her mind when selecting a special somepony. “That sounds alright, Fluttershy,” he said with as much confidence as he could muster. “Just tell me where to go, and I’ll pitch in.”

September 2 – 9:53 AM

Ostensibly, Rainbow Dash and Thunderlane were supposed to be checking the partially solidified band of fog at the top of the Unicorn Ridge for weaknesses that could be exploited in case the north winds weren’t enough to push the fog over the mountains on their own, but they’d already found about a dozen spots where a well-placed buck could conceivably crumble part of the unintentional wall. Of course, anypony who delivered such a buck couldn’t be wearing a fog suit at the time, which in turn meant that there was a serious risk of getting caught in the resulting fogslide unprotected, but that didn’t bother Rainbow Dash too much. After all, the most likely candidate to undertake such an emergency measure (herself) also happened to be the fastest pegasus in the history of, like, ever. No, Rainbow Dash and her second-in-command were, at that moment, discussing a topic that weighed far more heavily on her mind: her misadventures in matchmaking.

“So, uh, Thunderlane... mind if I ask you a favor?”

The black stallion stared suspiciously at his boss from beneath the silver cowl of his fog suit. “No, I am not going to use my vacation time to camp out in line for Wonderbolts tickets for you.”

“That was just a half day, and I’ve only ever asked you to do something like that once!”

“What about the time that Rich’s Barnyard Bargains got their hooves on those signed limited edition Spitfire figurines?”

“Okay, twice. But this is something completely different!”

Thunderlane sighed. “Fine... what is it?”

“The next time we stop by the library so Rarity can work on our fog suits, would it be okay if I flirted with you for a bit?”

Thunderlane’s face screwed up in utter confusion. “Excuse me?”

“I know it’s kind of out of the blue, but Fluttershy’s sort of gotten the wrong impression that I’m interested in somepony who’s interested in her, so I need her to see that I’m obviously not that interested.”

Once Thunderlane had worked out what his supervisor was trying to say, he answered her with the most prudent and sensible response he could think of: “Have you completely lost your mind?!”

“Oh, come on, it’s not like I’m asking you to do a Sonic Rainboom. You’d just have to play along for a bit.”

“Uh, boss, were you not paying attention when the Department sent that mare here to give the mandatory talk about harassment policies?”

“But it’s not really harassment if I have your permission, right?”

Thunderlane paused. “I don’t know... I can’t really remember all the details of that presentation.”

“Look, the Department’s harassment policies only go into effect if the pony being harassed files a complaint, but you won’t have to file a complaint, because I’m already telling you that I’m faking it, right?”

“Maybe... but even assuming that Fluttershy doesn’t see right through you and figure out that you’re only pretending to have a romantic interest in me, aren’t you worried about how bad you’re going to look as a result?”

“What are you talking about?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“I’m currently in a relationship,” Thunderlane replied as he rolled his eyes, giving the distinct impression that he thought he was stating the obvious.

Rainbow’s expression remained neutral, but her tone of voice suggested numb shock. “You are?”

“Yes, and I really doubt that openly flirting with a stallion whose special somepony is in the hospital with a horrifically dislocated hoof will improve anypony’s opinion of you.”

“Hold up,” Rainbow Dash said, her surprise now clearly evident on her face. “There’s another pony in there with a dislocated hoof? Well, at least Flitter will have somepony to talk to, right?”

“Flitter is my special somepony.”

“No way,” Rainbow said as she broke into a smile. “When did you two become an item?”

“We’ve been dating for more than a year now. Did you seriously not know about this?”

Rainbow Dash looked completely bewildered. “Uhh...”

Thunderlane continued, “Heck, you even told us off for focusing on each other instead of our jobs when our relationship started.”

“Oh yeah, I guess I did... but I was just joking about you two being together at the time.”

Thunderlane sighed as he pressed a hoof against his forehead. “Look, boss, if you really need somepony to flirt with, why don’t you try that desk jockey from Cloudsdale who keeps showing up around town?”

Because that would make the situation worse, Rainbow Dash didn’t say. Instead, she dropped the subject completely: “You know what? Never mind. I’ve got other things to worry about.”

September 2 – 10:06 AM

“Thank you for letting me help out, Ms. Pie.”

“Oh, there’s no need to be so formal,” Pinkie Pie said as she lead Pencil Pusher through the candy shop’s storeroom to the bunker. “I actually prefer ‘Pinkie.’” The huge door was wide open now, and many adult ponies were already bustling around the subterranean vault, putting the finishing touches on Pinkie’s perfect party plan.

As the two walked into the main room, Pinkie scanned the area, looking for a task appropriate for the new volunteer. “Let’s see... ooh, I know! You’ve been doing a lot of stuff with the fog, and the fog is basically building materials, so you should be in charge of the bounce house!”

“What?!” Pencil said, his voice becoming panicky more from his complete inability to follow Pinkie Pie’s logic than from any concerns he might have had. Leaving aside the fact that he didn’t actually have that much experience with industrial clouds, he doubted he was qualified for this sort of task. Okay, sure, it certainly looked springy and colorful and exciting, and he could easily imagine the foals shrieking gleefully as they bounded about the pseudo-building, but surely there was somepony else with more appropriate skills to handle that particular bit of equipment. “I... I really don’t think the experience translates...”

“Of course it does! When you really think about it, a bounce house is basically the same thing as a cloud house, only it’s drier, and wrapped in a cloth.”

However, when Pencil Pusher really thought about it, he concluded that the only thing bounce houses had in common with cloud houses was that both were shaped like buildings. “Um, are you sure about this, Ms. Pinkie?”

Pinkie Pie giggled. “I already told you, it’s just ‘Pinkie’ to my friends, and I haven’t met a pony who wasn’t a friend yet. Anyway, running a bounce house is simple. All you need to do is make sure that there aren’t too many foals in there at once, and to make sure that the whole place is cleared out every ten minutes so other ponies can have a turn. Oh, and you also need to make sure nopony’s getting hurt. Oh! And you might have to break up a fight if some of the foals start arguing. Oh! And you need to make sure the air compressor is running properly. If the bounce house starts to deflate, it gets less bouncy, and that can lead to nasty boo-boos. But other than that, it’s a piece of cake!”

“Uh... right,” Pencil Pusher said uncertainly. Well, look on the bright side, he thought to himself. At least she’s being cheerful and pleasant when she’s dumping responsibilities on top of you, which is more than you can say about Greg.

“Well?” Pinkie Pie said with an expectant look in her eye.

“Oh, uh, yes, this will be fine,” Pencil Pusher said as he forced himself away from his interior monologue. “I’ll be happy to run the bounce house.”

“Well, of course you will,” Pinkie Pie said, as if she had never seriously considered the possibility that anypony might refuse her offer. “It’s a bounce house, after all.”

“Ah, I see,” Pencil replied as he shifted his weight awkwardly. “So... is there something else you wanted to say?”

Pinkie Pie had a definite twinkle in her eye as she said, “The party doesn’t start for at least a half-hour. Don’t you want to give it a test run before the foals get here?”

“Oh, well, you see, to be perfectly honest... yeah, I do.”

September 2 – 10:11 AM

When Rainbow Dash returned to the library so Rarity could do some touch-up work on her fog suit, she arrived solo, having left Thunderlane on the Unicorn Ridge to keep watch in case the fog did anything unexpected. The pair sequestered themselves inside the kitchen for “privacy,” leaving Fluttershy and Twilight Sparkle in the library’s main room.

“Um, do you think it’s a good idea to leave those two alone? I mean, well... actually, I suppose I don’t have any proof of it, but the way Rarity was acting earlier....”

Twilight Sparkle sighed. “I know what you mean, Fluttershy. Rarity seemed way too interested in keeping Pencil Pusher away from Rainbow Dash. It’s starting to look like it was a mistake for me to tell her about Rainbow’s crush in the first place.”

“It’s just that I never would have expected Rarity to be interested in a pony like Pencil Pusher.”

“Well, it’s not like anypony would have expected Rainbow Dash to be interested in him either,” Twilight pointed out. “Maybe there’s something I’m not seeing. I mean, sure, he’s gone above and beyond what anypony would have expected to help us out, but it’s not like he’s the first helpful stallion they’ve met.”

Fluttershy’s ears perked up. “Oh, uh, no, I don’t think so,” she said, stumbling over her words somewhat as she tried to make her thoughts coherent. “I mean, everypony is looking for something different in a special somepony, right? It’s not always predictable.” As confusing as the situation was, Fluttershy felt absolutely certain that it would only get worse if Twilight fell for the bureaucrat, too. “Besides, maybe we’ve misunderstood something.”

“But what is there to misunderstand?” Twilight asked. “Rarity knows that Rainbow is interested in Pencil Pusher, but she obviously wanted to keep them apart. The only explanation I can think of is that Rarity has a crush on Pencil Pusher herself.”

“Well... maybe we ought to stand back and see how it all plays out,” Fluttershy suggested as she idly glanced out the window. “Who knows? It... it could end up working out in the end.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Twilight admitted before returning her attention to her wind vector calculations.

Somewhere in the back of their minds, both mares knew that this sort of idle speculation was beneath them, but right now, they just needed something to take their minds off the fog until it actually started doing something. Unfortunately, neither of them noticed that on the opposite side of the room, a baby dragon had stopped dusting the bookcases and started to grip the shelves so tightly that claw marks appeared in the wood.

September 2 – 10:42 AM

Although the party had only been underway for a mere ten minutes, it already seemed that Pinkie Pie had a good shot of achieving her stated goal of throwing the best party ever. At the moment, most of the massive central room was filled with the biggest game of Musical Chairs anypony in Ponyville had seen, which would have been impressive in itself, but Pinkie Pie had upped the ante even further by using her massive budget to hire one of the hottest DJs in Equestria to actually run the game, which was all the more impressive when one considered that the job was offered on such short notice. DJ Pon-3 seemed to be enjoying the diversion from her usual gigs, as she occasionally halted her thumping beats so ponies could scramble to find seats, and equally importantly, the music was good enough that the ponies who were forced from the game early were having a good time dancing.

Quieter activities were taking place in the side rooms; most of the bedroom suites had been converted into craft stations where the foals could make homemade toys or gifts for friends and relatives, while the dining room was being prepped for the full buffet that was to be served at lunchtime. Pinkie Pie, meanwhile, was in the nursery, entertaining the youngest of the foals and the adults who had been charged with seeing to their wellbeing.

Mayor Mare was present at the party as well, wearing the same clown costume she wore every Nightmare Night, except this time, she was doing some actual clowning. Apparently, she’d had a job as a part-time clown to help make ends meet while she was earning her political science degree from Oldenburg College. She rarely brought her experience up in ordinary conversation, because she’d gotten tired of jokes about its similarity with her current profession several years earlier. However, as she deftly inflated balloons and twisted them into all sorts of amusing shapes, it was obvious that she was quite skilled at it. She’d even pulled off an impromptu comedy sketch with Pinkie Pie that demonstrated her knack for comic timing, which certainly looked like it would keep the foals amused as they waited in line for the bounce house, which was easily the most popular attraction.

This turned out to be an unexpected problem for the Cutie Mark Crusaders when they had first arrived, because upon seeing the inflated building, Sweetie Belle seemed to lose interest in the human trap as she rushed to get to the front of the line. Thus, as Apple Bloom went off to search for a means of escape, Scootaloo was tasked with getting their friend’s attention back where it belonged. Unfortunately, the stallion who was watching over the bounce house didn’t seem willing to cooperate.

“Look,” Pencil Pusher said in his most diplomatic tone of voice, “I know you want your turn, but I can’t empty out the bounce house just to rush you in. The other foals inside just started theirs a few minutes ago, and I don’t think they’d be happy if I cut it short just for you.”

Scootaloo groaned and shook her head. “No, that’s not what I meant. I don’t need you to kick all of them out of there. I just need to talk to my friend.”

“And it can’t wait until her ten minutes are up? I mean, it’s not like you’re going to be going anywhere for the next few hours.”

At this, Scootaloo was a bit flummoxed, as the stallion’s prediction could very well prove true if Sweetie Belle wasn’t cooperating, but she couldn’t very well tell him that. She finally settled on dismissing his point. “I don’t think it’ll be that long. I mean, Rainbow Dash is helping out, and she’s the fastest pegasus ever.”

Pencil Pusher sighed and rolled his eyes. “Look, I’m sure she’s an excellent flyer, but you don’t really need aerobatic skills to be effective at weather management. Honestly, if this town wasn’t so small to begin with, I’m not sure she’d have been put in charge. She seems like a rather average weatherpony to me.” He didn’t particularly like criticizing ponies when they weren’t around to defend themselves, but if this filly really thought that fancy flying skills were an essential part of a weatherpony’s job, it was probably best to set her straight as soon as possible.

“No way! Rainbow Dash is the best around!”

“Actually, the best weatherpony around is probably the mare in charge of Canterlot’s climate, but that’s really not important. Look, kid, I’m not saying that Rainbow Dash is bad at her job. She’s just not going to get reassigned to a more prestigious region any time soon.”

“Well, she doesn’t need to. She’s going to be a Wonderbolt one day.”

Pencil Pusher simply shrugged and took another look at the clock on the wall. “Five minutes, and you can talk to your friend again.”

Scootaloo sighed. “I guess I can wait a little longer.”

At that moment, Apple Bloom suddenly appeared at Scootaloo’s side. “Hey, Scoots, you got Sweetie Belle yet?” she asked with a wide grin.

“Nope,” Scootaloo said with a brief gesture towards Pencil Pusher. “The rules say she gets her full ten minutes in the bounce house, apparently.”

Upon noticing that there was an authority figure in the area, Apple Bloom took several steps backwards and rather awkwardly brought one of her hooves to the back of her head, as if she was adjusting her hair ribbon. Pencil Pusher wasn’t certain why, but the action seemed rather odd—but then again, he didn’t know that many ponies who wore ribbons in their manes in the first place, so he decided to let it slide.

Apple Bloom, meanwhile returned to Scootaloo’s side and, in a much lower voice, said, “Meet up with me when Sweetie Belle’s done. I think I found somethin’ y’all oughta see.”

September 2 – 10:44 AM

Spike had spent nearly half an hour pacing around Twilight’s room in the library, and he’d only stopped when his feet started getting tired, rather than because he’d reached any sort of resolution over the current predicament. He never would have suspected that Rarity could fall for somepony like Pencil Pusher—a well-connected aristocrat like Blueblood, sure, but not an ordinary cubicle-dweller. Even now, as he sat slumped over on his bed, he still wasn’t certain how best to react to what he’d overheard Twilight and Fluttershy talking about.

Naturally, being the very essence of draconic machismo, Spike’s first thought was to start a fight with Pencil Pusher. He was fairly certain that he’d have an overwhelming advantage if it came down to fisticuffs, because unlike his opponent, Spike could actually form a fist. That said, unless the bureaucrat actually did something really nasty, there was a good chance Spike would come off looking worse in Rarity’s eyes (plus, Twilight would probably ground him until Hearth’s Warming Eve again).

Then again, if everypony thought Pencil Pusher had actually done something nasty, a fight wouldn’t even be necessary—Rarity would drop him like last summer’s saddlebag. All Spike needed to do was lure him to a secluded place and... and then... “Uh...” Spike said out loud as his internal monologue ground to a halt. It had just occurred to him that in order to frame Pencil Pusher for something nasty, he had to make sure that something nasty happened in the first place, which meant that he’d pretty much have to be the bad guy. But Spike had already tried that back when Twilight adopted Owlowiscious, and he wasn’t anxious to give it another go, even if it did mean he’d get to have a totally cool mustache.

Well, if being aggressive was out, perhaps the opposite path still lay open before him. Spike wracked his brain as he tried to determine the most non-aggressive means by which he might ward off his competition. After a few moments, it came to him: he would fling himself before the stallions hooves, crying like a hatchling whose candied sapphire had just been stolen by bullies, and beg Pencil Pusher to please, please, call off his relationship with Rarity. Doubtless, the bureaucrat would be moved to pity and leave Ponyville, never to return, so that Spike could comfort the heartbroken love of his life. He’d finally have Rarity, and all it would cost him was every ounce of dignity and self-respect he had, which seemed like a pretty good trade to him.

However, there was always the chance that Pencil Pusher wouldn’t respond to his heart-wrenching pleas, which would be a problem if Spike didn’t have a backup plan. He supposed he could try stalking the bureaucrat with a camera, waiting for a chance to get photographic evidence of... well, something that would dissuade Rarity from her pursuit. If not any nastiness, then perhaps Pencil Pusher would do something to make it seem like he wasn’t really interested in Rarity.

Wait a minute, Spike suddenly thought to himself. Do I even know if he returns Rarity’s feelings? Here was a potential solution that didn’t require any elaborate plans or personal debasement; if Pencil Pusher wasn’t interested, then Rarity would have to turn somewhere else for romance, and with any luck, she’d turn in the general direction of wherever Spike happened to be at the moment. All he needed to do was figure out what Pencil Pusher’s actual opinion was... and to do that, he’d need to do some party crashing.

September 2 – 10:50 AM

When Sweetie Belle exited the bounce house, her friends were eagerly waiting to explain the plan.

“Alright,” Apple Bloom said quietly as the trio huddled in one of the few unused rooms in the bunker, “first, the bad news: the door’s bein’ watched, an’ it’s that Pony Express delivery pony—you know, the one with the lazy eye you ain’t s’posed ta talk about. After doin’ some eavesdroppin’, I learned that the door’s lock is magical, and it’s programmed to keep foals from gettin’ out without permission.”

Scootaloo let out a derisive snort. “Can you believe this? It’s like they don’t even trust us.”

“But... aren’t we trying to break the rules?” Sweetie Belle asked in mild confusion.

“Well, yeah,” Scootaloo admitted, “but that doesn’t change the fact that they refuse to trust us.”

“In any case, it don’t matter that much,” Apple Bloom said, “because the good news is that all we need to open the door is the hoofprint of a grown up pony.”

“And how do we get one of those?” Scootaloo asked. “Saying ‘pretty please’?”

“Not exactly...” Apple Bloom replied as she pulled a small vial of brownish liquid from behind the ribbon in her mane. “I found this in a first aid kit. It’s one of those medicines they use to help ponies get ta sleep. I figure we add an extra large dose to some food, give it to the pony guardin’ the door, and she’ll be knocked out in no time. Then we just use her hoof to unlock the door, and we’re out.”

“But won’t the guard know we gave it to her?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“Nah,” Apple Bloom replied as she dismissively waved her hoof. “This stuff takes a while to kick in. We just gotta wait a bit, that’s all.”

“But what if she doesn’t eat the food?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“Well, that’s where you come in,” Scootaloo said. “Since you were too busy bouncing to help come up with a plan, your job is to figure out what the guard likes to eat, and getting us some of that so we can use the... stuff on it.”

Sweetie Belle sighed. “Fine...”

“Good,” Scootaloo said. “Now, if you need us, Apple Bloom and me are going to wait in line at the bounce house.”

“‘Apple Bloom and I,’” Sweetie Belle groused as her friends returned to the party.

September 2 – 11:01 AM

“Hey, Mac, you’re single, right?”

“Eeyup.” Rainbow Dash did the best she could to hide her relief upon learning this news, as it meant that there wouldn’t be any unfortunate implications if Big Macintosh agreed to help her out. When she’d decided to use one of her breaks to drop in on the safety patrol’s headquarters at the town hall, she’d initially thought that finding a volunteer would be a relatively simple matter. However, she’d soon realized that asking somepony to let you pretend to flirt with them was far more awkward than she’d initially thought—unless it was somepony she knew pretty well, even bringing up the subject felt super weird.

That limited the number of potential candidates very quickly, since most of the ponies that Rainbow Dash knew well seemed to be helping out with Pinkie’s party. Essentially, Rainbow had two ponies to pick from, and since Applejack couldn’t tell a lie to save her life, that meant that her hopes lay with her taciturn brother. “Great,” she replied to the draft pony, “because I need to ask you to do a really, really big favor for me.”

Big Macintosh didn’t say anything in response, but he made a short bobbing motion with his head which Rainbow assumed meant that she would explain further before he agreed to anything.

“Okay, this might sound a little weird, but hear me out. I can’t really go into details, but Fluttershy thinks I’m interested in somepony, even though I’m really not, and it’s making things complicated. You with me so far?”

Big Macintosh nodded his head. “Eeyup.”

“So, to show her that I’m not interested, I was thinking that I should flirt with somepony else where Fluttershy can hear me. Not for real, you understand—just for pretend.”

“Nope.”

Rainbow Dash looked confused at this response and scratched her head through her silver fog suit. “You don’t understand?”

“Oh, I understand,” Macintosh replied. “I just ain’t doin’ it.”

“But you’re, like, the only pony who can help me!”

Big Macintosh appeared to mulled this over for a split-second before answering, “Nope.”

“But why not?!” Rainbow Dash asked, her voice taking on an uncharacteristically pathetic tone.

“It’s a bad idea.” He turned and started to walk towards the crowd of volunteers, but Rainbow Dash grabbed one of his hind legs.

“C’mon, you’ve gotta help me out here!” she pleaded.

“What in tarnation is goin’ on over here?” The new voice was stern, irritated, and it belonged to Applejack who had walked over to see what the commotion was. “The two of you are makin’ a scene.”

“It’s... it’s nothing. Really!” Rainbow Dash said as she let go of Big Macintosh’s leg and stood up.

“Sugarcube, that’s awful melodramatic for a plain old ‘nuthin’.”

Fortunately, Big Macintosh was a considerably more forthcoming with an explanation. “Miss Rainbow Dash wants to flirt with somepony in front of Miss Fluttershy for some reason.”

“What?” Applejack exclaimed. “You gotta be kiddin’ me.”

“It’s not what you think,” Rainbow insisted.

Applejack sighed and rested one of her forehooves on Rainbow Dash’s shoulder. “Look, Sugarcube, I ain’t got a problem if you fancy Fluttershy, but I don’t think tryin’ to make her jealous is the best way to go about lettin’ her know. Besides that, she’s got more important things to worry about right now, so maybe you should put this off until later.”

“No! No no no!” Rainbow Dash said. The last thing she needed at the moment was another crossed wire. “That’s not what’s going on here.”

“Oh?” Applejack asked as her voice lost all traces of gentleness and support. “Then just what is goin’ on here?”

“Um... I can’t really tell you. It’s really, really complicated, and like you said, there’s way more important things to do, so I’ll just be going—”

“So you can try pullin’ this little stunt on somepony else?” Applejack interrupted as she pressed her head against Rainbow Dash’s and stared her in the eyes. “I don’t think so.”

“No, really,” Rainbow protested, as she tried to back her way over to the door. “I just remembered that Fluttershy wanted me to find a left-hoofed smoke shifter in case this plan doesn’t work....”

Applejack sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Rainbow Dash, you’re almost as bad at lyin’ as I am, so how about you just sit yer tail down right here, quit makin’ excuses, an’ tell me what’s goin’ on?”

September 2 – 11:13 AM

Derpy Hooves sighed as she exited the bathroom and walked over towards the stool next to the door where she’d been sitting for the last forty minutes or so. When she’d volunteered to help out with Pinkie Pie’s party, she had initially hoped to be assigned with a task that was a bit more entertaining than simply watching the door. While she certainly was appreciative that Pinkie had trusted her with the important task of making sure that none of the foals wandered outside into the fog, she would have preferred to be in the midst of all the hustle and bustle of the actual party. Not only would it have been far less boring, but she would have been able to spend some time with her daughter, Dinky, who was attending the festivities. At least Pinkie Pie had said that somepony would come to take her place after two hours, so her shift at the door was almost halfway done.

Fortunately, the sound of hoofbeats on the stairs broke up the monotony as three fillies emerged from the party below. Derpy had met them before, as all three went to school with Dinky, but aside from their reputation for getting into trouble, she didn’t know the Cutie Mark Crusaders particularly well. “Hello there,” she said pleasantly as she scanned the trio with her good eye. “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you outside right now.”

“Oh, we know that,” said the orange pegasus, who was named Scootaloo, or something like that, if Derpy recalled correctly. “We just came up here to get some sugar from the candy shop’s storeroom. They need it in the kitchen, and we volunteered.”

“I see...” Derpy said as she considered this claim. “Well, I’m not sure if the sugar is stored in this part of the storeroom, or the part that’s outside the bunker, and like I just said, I can’t let you outside.”

“But can we at least take a look around here, though?” Scootaloo asked.

“Well... I suppose that couldn’t hurt,” Derpy said.

“Thank you!” the three fillies chorused cheerfully.

“Don’t mention it,” Derpy replied with a dismissive wave of her hoof.

“Oh, by the way,” said the earth pony with the ribbon in her mane whose name escaped Derpy at the moment, “we brought somethin’ for ya from the kitchen.”

“You did?”

“Uh-huh,” replied the earth pony, who probably had an apple-related name, since Derpy was fairly certain that she was Applejack’s sister, now that she thought about it. The yellow filly turned around and picked up a plate in her mouth, which held...

“Is that... a blueberry muffin?”

Scootaloo and the unicorn filly nodded.

“For me?”

“That’s right,” Scootaloo said. Beside her, the unicorn filly continued smiling... though there seemed to be something oddly disquieting about her silence.

Derpy pushed this concern aside, though. There was a muffin to eat. She took the plate from Apple-name and set it down on the stool as the three fillies went behind a shelf to examine Bon-Bon’s supply of ingredients. With a huge grin on her face, she picked up the blueberry muffin and stuffed it into her mouth. “Mmm... delicious... though it has a funny aftertaste—”

Any further observations were interrupted by a series of sharp, hurried knocks on the door. Derpy walked over to the intercom next to door and held down a large, round button. “Hello?”

“Oh, um, hey,” replied a voice through the intercom. The device had distorted its audio quality, but the voice’s tone was high and clear, like a colt soprano. “Would it be okay if I came in?”

Derpy considered this for a moment. The voice sounded really young, but if he was a foal, why wasn’t he already at the party? A straggler, perhaps? Her reasoning didn’t seem to be working properly, as an odd, queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach seemed kept distracting her. “Um, are you a foal?”

“No,” the voice replied. “I’m Spike. Twilight Sparkle’s assistant? I work with her at the library.”

“Oh, you’re that baby dragon, aren’t you? Well, I suppose I can let you in.” Derpy walked over to a touchpad and pressed her hoof against it. After a few seconds, the door’s magical locking mechanism gave a loud beep and Derpy pulled down on the handle, swinging the bunker door inward to let the small purple dragon inside.

“Thanks,” Spike said. “Uh, do you know if Pencil Pusher is here?”

Derpy screwed up her muzzle in confusion. “Pencil Pusher?”

“He’s a grey pegasus stallion from Cloudsdale. I think he has a red line for a cutie mark.”

“Oh, him,” Derpy said as she realized who Spike was talking about. “He’s downstairs, in the main room. Pinkie Pie put him in charge of the bounce house.”

“Thanks a lot,” Spike said as he rushed down the staircase.

As the echoes of Spike’s footsteps faded away, Derpy let out a long yawn. “Wow... I’m feeling tired. Maybe when my guard shift is done, I should take a quick nap before heading to the party.” It seemed that the time she’d spent the previous night helping some friends move their cloud house was catching up with her. Then again, she wasn’t likely to drop off if the queasy feeling in her stomach didn’t go away. “Ugh... maybe I should have taken my time with that muff—”

Depry stopped mid-sentence as the queasiness suddenly grew into the worst feeling of nausea she’d ever experienced. Clutching a hoof over her mouth, she raced back towards the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.

As sounds of retching filtered into the bunker’s foyer, the Crusaders hesitantly crept out from behind the shelves. “That... doesn’t sound good....” Sweetie Belle said uncertainly as the sound of undigested food hitting porcelain continued at an alarming rate.

“I thought you said that stuff would just knock her out,” Scootaloo said quietly to Apple Bloom as she warily eyed the bathroom door.

“I... I thought it would,” Apple Bloom insisted as anguished moans joined the sickening melange of noises. She pulled out the vial and stared at the label. “I coulda sworn syrup of ipecac was used ta help ponies sleep. I mean, it says here that it’s an ‘emetic,’ and I saw that on a jar of some sorta chamomile cream once, an’ everypony knows chamomile helps ya sleep.”

Sweetie Belle sighed. “I think the word is ‘emollient.’ They put it in skin creams to reduce swelling.”

“Oh, come on,” Scootaloo said. “There’s no way that one was in our homework.”

“It wasn’t,” Sweetie Belle said, “but it was on a tube of cream in Rarity’s bathroom, so I asked her about it.”

Apple Bloom would have continued this conversation, were it not for the sound of a fresh round of vomit splashing into a toilet bowl to refocus their attention. “Maybe we oughta get going...” she said hesitantly.

“What are you talking about?” Sweetie Belle asked. “Ms. Hooves obviously needs help right now.”

“Are you nuts?” Scootaloo whispered harshly. “If we do that, we’ll have to tell her what we did, and there’s no way we’ll be able to get out to the human trap then.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sweetie Belle countered. “We’re not going to be getting out if she’s conscious. I say we cut our losses and help out.”

Apple Bloom quickly scanned around the room until she found a small metal box attached to one of the walls. “There we go! Another first aid kit. I betcha this’ll have somethin’ that’ll fix the problem.”

“So we are helping her, then?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“I guess,” Apple Bloom said as she walked towards the bathroom, but she suddenly stopped in her tracks. “Hey, look at this! She didn’t actually close the door. It’s partly open.”

Scootaloo nodded. “If that’s not a sign, I don’t know what is. C’mon.”

Sweetie Belle, however, was still staring at the bathroom door, where Derpy’s moans were starting to sound more pitiful. “We... we can’t just leave now. If we do that, we’re going to get in trouble.”

“Sweetie Belle, she knows we gave her that muffin,” Scootaloo said in obvious exasperation. “I’m pretty sure we’re already in trouble.”

“So why do we want to make things worse, then?”

“We aren’t!” Scootaloo insisted. “We’re capturing a human to save Equestria, remember? It’ll make up for this; I’m sure of it. Now come on... I think she’s nearly done.” Indeed, the disturbing splashing noises had stopped, and now only the sounds of dry heaves came from the bathroom.

Apple Bloom pried the door open until it was wide enough to let a filly through. “C’mon, y’all, we gotta get outta here quick in case somepony outside notices the door.” Her eyes were darting around, as if she was worried that somepony would discover their mess.

Sweetie Belle just kept staring at the bathroom.

“She’ll be fine,” Scootaloo said. “My parents once told me she’s tougher than she looks.”

“Besides, it ain’t like we’re just leavin’ her in a lurch,” Apple Bloom added. “I put that first aid kit on her stool where she’s sure ta see it.”

“I guess that’s better than nothing....” Sweetie Belle said as she turned towards the exit.

Grinning, Scootaloo pushed her friend through the bunker door before she could change her mind. Then, after a quick look around to make sure that nopony else could see them, she exited herself, shutting the door behind her.

September 2 – 11:20 AM

It didn’t take Spike very long to find Pencil Pusher—the bounce house was easily the most prominent feature at the party, and Spike had spotted the bureaucrat from the stairs. Actually getting to the stallion was a bit more arduous, as the dragon had to wade through a dance floor packed with energetic foals to reach him, all while shielding his mind from the potential distractions of party games, party favors, and party snacks which probably didn’t contain a single gem, no matter how delectable they looked.

But finally, after many pushes, shoves, pardon-mes, and coming-throughs, Spike arrived at the front of the line for the bounce house, where Pencil Pusher looked at him wearily. “Uh, I’m sorry, buddy,” the stallion said, looking a bit lost for words, as though he hadn’t expected to deal with anyone who didn’t have hooves, “but I don’t think I can let you in the bounce house with those claws of yours. You might puncture the fabric.”

As it turned, out, though, Spike was having even more difficulty trying to express himself. “Oh, um, that’s alright. I, uh, didn’t actually come here to use it. I, well, was kind of hoping we could... talk, maybe?”

“Huh? Why? Do I know... oh!” Pencil Pusher suddenly exclaimed as his face lit up in recognition. “You’re that dragon who hangs out at the library, aren’t you? Spyro, right?”

“Uh, Spike, actually.”

“I beg your pardon?” Pencil Pusher said as he raised his voice to speak over the throbbing beat that pulsed from the loudspeakers.

“Spike!”

“Oh, right. Sorry. So, did Fluttershy send you here to tell me something?”

“Not really—uh, is there somewhere quieter we can talk?”

“What? Oh, sure! Let me flag somepony down who can cover for me while I take a break.”

This didn’t take particularly long, as Pinkie Pie chose that moment to notice that Spike was in attendance at her party and rushed over to greet him with a massive hug. Once the dragon managed to prise himself from the earth pony’s clutches, Pinkie was more than happy to take over bounce house duties while Spike and Pencil had their conversation. The two of them found an unused side room containing nothing out of the ordinary (except for an open first aid kit lying in the middle of the floor) and shut the door behind them to muffle the noise.

“Okay,” Pencil Pusher said, “what did you want to talk about?”

Spike stared at the ground as he awkwardly shifted his weight around. “Um, well, I guess there really isn’t a good way to bring this up without it sounding, you know, odd, so I might as well just ask. What’s going on between you and, um, Rarity?” The little dragon’s nervous gulp seemed much louder now than the blaring party music had been only a few minutes earlier.

To Spike’s surprise, Pencil Pusher seemed befuddled by the question. “Rarity? Uh, nothing, really. She’s just... helping me out a bit, I guess.”

“So, you aren’t, like, interested in her, then?”

“Nah,” Pencil Pusher replied with a dismissive wave of his hoof. “Don’t get me wrong, she’s a very nice mare, but she’s really not my type. Just a bit too detail-oriented for my tastes, if that makes any sense.”

“Oh,” Spike said blankly as he processed this news. “Alright.” So, it seemed that Rarity was doomed to disappointment in her pursuit of Pencil Pusher. This was a most excellent development—well, maybe not in the short term. Spike never liked it when Rarity was sad. But she’d need a shoulder to cry on in order to get over this, and he planned on making sure that both of his were available to her at a moment’s notice.

These musings, however, were cut short, as Pencil Pusher had a question of his own to ask: “Why do you want to know?”

Spike’s face briefly froze in an expression of panic. “Er, well... you see...”

Oddly, one of the corners of the bureaucrat’s mouth turned up into a wry, though not unkindly, grin. “Never mind,” he said in a reassuring tone of voice. “Spike, sometimes, when you really like somepony else, it can be difficult building up the courage to say so. Rarity... well, she’s helping me out, like I said.”

Spike seemed a little stunned. “You’re allowed to get help with that?”

“Sure,” Pencil Pusher said. “You should really give it a try—you know, if you ever fall for somepony down the road.”

“Yeah....” Spike said as he thought this over, though somehow he didn’t hit on the implications of Pencil Pusher’s use of the word “somepony” instead of a more species-neutral term. “Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“So, is there anything else, or can I get back to the bounce house?”

“Huh? Oh, sure,” Spike said as he opened the door. “Oh, and thank you, Mr. Pusher.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Spike slowly exhaled as he watched the stallion return to his post. Now that his initial panic was gone, there was only one logical course of action to take for the remainder of the day: Party.

September 2 – 11:31 AM

Getting the full story out of Rainbow Dash had been like solving a jigsaw puzzle: even when all the relevant information was in full view, Applejack still needed to assemble it into something coherent, because the idea that Rainbow Dash would actively try her hoof at matchmaking ran counter to all of her previous assumptions about the weatherpony’s demeanor. It just sounded way too lovey-dovey and dewey-eyed for a pegasus as aggressive as her, which is why the first step Applejack had taken to fix this mess was to have Rainbow Dash fetch Rarity from the library so she could get the real story.

When, against all odds, the tale of Rainbow Dash’s painfully clunky attempt to ease Fluttershy into taking Pencil Pusher seriously turned out to be completely accurate, Applejack knew that there was only one way to remove all the confusion so everypony could refocus their attention on the fog, and she marched over to the library with Rainbow Dash and Rarity in tow to set things right.

However, despite the farmpony’s unmistakable aura of confidence, her two friends seemed oddly unnerved by her actions. “Er, Applejack, darling, wouldn’t it be wise to at least let us know what your plan is?”

Applejack ignored Rarity’s question as she walked up to the library door, mostly because she was quite certain that her friends’ response to her plan would be an attempt to stop it. Thus, without further ado she opened the door and marched right into the middle of a discussion Twilight Sparkle and Fluttershy were having about barometric pressure.

“Um, is something wrong, Applejack?” Fluttershy asked, confusion evident in her face as her eyes briefly flicked over Rarity and Rainbow Dash, who had entered the library behind the farmpony.

Applejack nodded. “Yeah, there is. Basically, there’s a little misunderstandin’ that’s causin’ some real annoyin’ distractions, and I aim to nip it in the bud right here and now, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh... um, okay.”

“Alright, here we go, then. Fluttershy, Pencil Pusher’s taken a fancy to you, and he’s probably gonna ask you to dinner sometime after this fog mess is cleared up.”

“What?!” Rarity shouted indignantly. “You can’t just tell her that!”

“Pretty sure I just did,” Applejack said as she steadfastly ignored the shocked look on her friends’ faces. She turned her attention back to Fluttershy and continued, “Rarity an’ Rainbow Dash reckon the two of you might make a good match, so they’ve been tryin’ ta help him out. But since Rainbow don’t have much experience with matchmakin’, she made it sound like she was interested in him when she really just wanted you ta start thinkin’ about him now, so you’d take him seriously when he got around to askin’ you out himself.”

Rainbow Dash didn’t bother objecting to Applejack’s description, preferring instead to scurry to a corner of the room, where she apparently hoped to silently melt into the wall by pressing against it as hard as she could.

Fluttershy seemed taken aback, and she was having difficulty putting her thoughts into words. “Oh... but... but that can’t possibly... I mean...”

“Hang on,” Twilight interjected. “I can see how Rainbow Dash might make a mistake like that, but if Rarity’s been in on this, why was she so concerned about Pencil Pusher spending time with Rainbow?”

Rarity sighed. “It wasn’t that I thought he’d become enamored of Rainbow, darling. I was just concerned that Fluttershy would convince herself that Rainbow would be a better match for Pencil than her.”

Twilight still seemed confused. “So... you aren’t interested in him yourself, then?”

Rarity partially lowered her eyelids and stared at her friend. “Please, Pencil Pusher doesn’t even come close to the level of panache I’m looking for in special somepony.” Then, perhaps remembering that she was in Fluttershy’s presence, turned to the pegasus and clarified: “Er, not that it makes him any less worthy for you, darling. I’m just very finicky—that’s all.”

“In any case, the only pony Pencil’s interested in at the moment is Fluttershy here,” Applejack said in an effort to rein in the conversation before it got too far off track. “And now that she knows what’s goin’ on, maybe things’ll settle down a bit.”

“But... but this isn’t how romance is supposed to work!” Rarity protested.

“No, that ain’t how romance novels are s’posed ta work,” Applejack corrected. “In case ya didn’t notice, the writers of those books always put in tons of problems because it would be boring if two ponies fell in love and it all went off without a hitch. Seriously, have any of y’all ever heard Granny Smith talk about how my great uncle Jonagold met my great aunt Honeycrisp? The answer is ‘no,’ because the story’s so dull that even Granny Smith doesn’t want to hear it.”

“But... what am I supposed to do?” Fluttershy asked, looking a bit more flummoxed as a slight blush appeared on her cheeks.

Applejack sighed. “Look, Sugarcube, all you gotta do is just remember that you don’t owe him anything, no matter how nice he’s been. That said, if he ever does get around to askin’ if you’re interested, it’d be mighty considerate of you to give him an answer one way or the other.”

Fluttershy still looked rather nervous. “But... but what if he doesn’t like what I tell him?”

Applejack considered this for a few seconds and answered: “Well, Pencil strikes me as the level-headed type who can take ‘no’ for an answer, so he’ll probably just get on with his life.”

“I don’t know...” Fluttershy said as her face reddened further. “This is a lot to think about.”

“Yeah, I know,” Applejack said, “but you can do all the thinkin’ ya need later. Right now, we got a real problem to take care of, and it’ll be comin’ over those mountains any minute now.”

September 2 – 11:47 AM

“Okay,” Scootaloo said as the Crusaders arrived at their clubhouse and shut the door behind them. “Are we sure that nopony spotted us?”

Apple Bloom gazed out of the window, straining her eyes for any sign of adults. Sneaking their way across town hadn’t been easy; they’d tried keeping to back alleys and less-used streets, but they only ended up getting confused and nearly walking right into a group of safety patrol volunteers. Still, aside from the odd instance of hiding in shadows, their brief journey had encountered few obstacles, and they’d managed to reach Sweet Apple Acres reasonably quickly. “Ain’t nopony out there I can see, and I’m pretty sure somepony would be comin’ after us if we’d been seen. I think we might be in the clear.”

“Until Ms. Hooves figures out what we did,” Sweetie Belle added morosely. It seemed that her enthusiasm for the human trap project had waned considerably since the trio had left the bunker.

Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “Sweetie Belle, you’re overreacting.” Over the course of the journey back to the orchard, she had settled on this as her standard response to her friend’s increasingly frequent objections. “I mean, from what I’ve heard, Derpy Hooves isn’t the kind of pony who automatically assumes the worst about others. She might think that we were too nervous to help her out and went back to the party, so she might not even know we left, especially if she doesn’t remember leaving the door open.”

Sweetie Belle, however, was having none of this. She shook her head and retorted, “How is that supposed to make me feel better? We basically poisoned her so we could escape. She should be assuming the worst about us.”

Apple Bloom did her best to diffuse the rapidly building tension. “Look, there ain’t much point in bickerin’ over that right now. We made it out here, so I say we check the trap, make sure Mr. Shnookums is comfortable, and then we can figure out what to do next.”

Although Sweetie Belle’s furrowed eyebrows made it obvious that she wasn’t wholly satisfied with this suggestion, she didn’t raise any objections to the idea—as least, not verbally. Scootaloo seemed quite willing to interpret this as acceptance. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s make a quick check on the trap, and once that’s done, Sweetie Belle can have her say.”

The unicorn filly remained silent, refusing to respond with even a nod. After several of the longest seconds any of them could remember, though, she finally spoke again. “Alright,” she said as she stood up and walked towards the door. “Let’s go.”

September 2 – 11:55 AM

Thunderlane absently bit his lower lip as he continued his observations. Rainbow Dash’s instructions had been clear: he wasn’t supposed to sound the alert until the main body of the fog started making its way down the mountain, which meant he’d have to stick around until the very last minute. The fog was now piled up extremely high, and he could see where the semisolid cloud that the previous day’s bonfires had created was starting to bend and bow from the strain of the fog building up behind it. Meanwhile, the very top of the fog bank was even less stable, as the north winds were starting to break off snowball-sized pieces that hadn’t fully congealed with the rest of the formation.

As these clumps skidded down the south face of the Unicorn Range, Thunderlane nervously double-checked to make sure that no rips or tears had appeared in his fog suit. He could tell that it wasn’t quite time to hightail it out of the area just yet, but even with his protective gear, he wasn’t too keen on being wrong. As much as he liked Flitter, he had no interest in joining her as another patient in the hospital.

Then again, it might be nice to have a chance to spend more time with her outside of work, he thought absently. Thunderlane shook his head rapidly to expel the idea from his brain. In all likelihood, Flitter was way too doped up on painkillers at the moment to appreciate the arrival of her special somepony as a fellow patient. And besides, if he was injured severely enough to be placed in the same ward as Flitter...

Thunderlane shuddered as memories of his special somepony’s mangled hoof floated back to his consciousness. He was fairly sure that Flitter wouldn’t fault him for not wanting to experience anything like that himself. Heck, I wouldn’t want anypony to go through something like that.

September 2 – 11:58 AM

A quick inspection of the trap revealed that everything was in good working order: absolutely nothing had happened to it in the previous three hours, and it looked like the Crusaders’ plan to trap a human would go off without a hitch, which was probably why Apple Bloom and Scootaloo were a bit perplexed by the rapid souring of Sweetie Belle’s mood.

“All that trouble, and we didn’t even need to leave the party,” the unicorn filly grumbled.

“Aw, buck up,” Apple Bloom said. “Now, we’ll be here to watch our trap in action.”

“No, we won’t!” Sweetie Belle shouted, leaning forward with a furious look in her eye. “In case you weren’t paying attention, there’s going to be an insanely thick fog rolling in! We won’t be able to see anything! Coming out here was completely pointless.”

“It wasn’t pointless,” Scootaloo insisted. “We had to make sure Mr. Shnookums was okay, didn’t we?”

“That hamster didn’t even need his food to be refilled!” Sweetie Belle yelled. “After what we did to Ms. Hooves, we’re probably going to be in more trouble than we’ve ever been in our entire lives, and there was absolutely no reason to do it!”

Scootaloo held up a hoof in protest. “Whoa, calm down—”

“I am not going to calm down!” Sweetie Belle retorted as she started pacing back and forth, shooting glares at her friends. “When our families find out about this, they’re going to completely flip out, and we didn’t even need to do it in the first place!”

“Sweetie Belle,” Apple Bloom said in her most diplomatic tone, “c’mon. Don’t ya think you might be overreactin’ just a little bit? I’m sure that Derpy’s gonna be okay, so what we did oughta be easy to forgive, right?”

“That’s not the point! You... you’re not even supposed to try to do what we were trying to do! It’s not right!” As Sweetie Belle’s pacing sped up, her mind was wandering far away from where she was putting her hooves, which might explain why it was at this point that she stepped on a stray sheet of bubble wrap, tripping and falling on her face as the popping noise echoed through the orchard. “Dammit!” the filly shouted through gritted teeth as she picked herself back up.

Scootaloo and Apple Bloom stared at her with their mouths agape. They didn’t remember Miss Cheerilee including that particular vocabulary word in their homework. “Okay,” Scootaloo said, “why don’t you take a few deep breaths before you go on.”

Sweetie Belle, however, only took one deep breath, and she followed it with a string of even more colorful vocabulary words.

September 2 – 12:00 PM

Mr. Shnookums’ attention perked up immediately when he heard the distinctive sound of popping bubblewrap, but at first he hesitated. That noise was the signal for him to start running, sure, but he was under the impression that everything around him was supposed to be murky and grey and cold when that happened—that was why the fillies had gotten a heater for his cage, after all. Then again, the orange one had made it quite clear that there would be consequences for not fulfilling his duty, and since Angel Bunny had seemed respectful of the orange one after the negotiations were finished, Mr. Shnookums could only assume that the orange one shared his personality. That was enough to obliterate his doubts; it was time for him to start running in his wheel.

As the hamster spun his wheel as fast as he could, a length of twine wrapped around an extension of the wheel’s axle. Soon, all the slack in the string had been taken up, pulling the release on a latch in a trap door, and the bowling ball that Scootaloo had acquired from the stallion with the goatee dropped onto a long, curving ramp.

September 2 – 12:00 PM

It didn’t take very long for Apple Bloom and Scootaloo to tire of listening to Sweetie Belle’s extensive linguistic demonstration, mostly because they were on the receiving end of it. “Okay, how about you stop cussin’ like a sailor for two seconds an’ let us get a word in?” Apple Bloom said.

“Like what?” Sweetie Belle replied with a snarl.

Scootaloo stepped forward. “Look, Sweetie Belle, you’re right that it was a mistake to—”

“‘A mistake’?! You think it was just a mistake?!”

September 2 – 12:01 PM

The bowling ball reached the end of the path and collided with a bucket of sand, tipping it over and pouring out its contents onto a balance scale. As one would expect, this side of the balance descended as more weight was added to its pan, causing its lighter counterpart to rise. The scale bumped against a metal toggle switch protruding from a pile of pillows and blankets that had been wrapped around a bulky-looking object and tied to an apple tree.

September 2 – 12:01 PM

“That’s it! I ain’t gonna just stand around an’ listen ta you acting all high an’ mighty!” Apple Bloom shouted.

“Yeah!” Scootaloo agreed. “You could have said something before we gave Derpy that muffin, but you decided to keep quiet.”

“Oh, so now it’s my fault?” Sweetie Belle asked, though it was rather obvious that she couldn’t care less how her friends answered.

September 2 – 12:02 PM

The jackhammer had been muffled quite expertly by the Crusaders, which was probably why they didn’t notice when it turned on and began shaking the apple tree. After what amounted to several dozen bucks in a matter of seconds, the tree gave up its bounty and the apples fell towards the ground. Some landed in a basket perched on the end of a seesaw-like lever, which launched another apple sitting on its opposite side into the air. The apple landed in a smaller basket hanging over the edge of a table a short distance away. This basket, in turn, was rigged up using a pulley and a counterweight. As the basket descended, the spinning pulley wound up a toy robot on the table, which soon began to walk forward.

September 2 – 12:02 PM

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just head back to town and tell everypony what you’ve done!” Sweetie Belle said as she subconsciously adjusted her posture to make herself look taller and more intimidating.

“Well, for one thing, it wasn’t just the two of us that did it,” Scootaloo retorted. “You’re every bit as guilty as we are.”

“An’ for another, you’d just be snitchin’ on us to try an’ get outta whatever your family does to you,” Apple Bloom added, pointing her hoof at their accuser.

“You call it ‘snitching,’ but I call it telling the truth.”

September 2 – 12:03 PM

The toy robot reached the opposite end of the table, where a rolling pin sat precariously close to the edge. A few bumps from the mechanical plaything was enough to send it falling to the ground, where it rolled until it knocked over a plank of wood that had been propping up a sheet of plywood that had been balanced on its edge. The plywood toppled over, creating a gust of air that caught a paper sail attached to the paper clip portion of Scootaloo’s hoof-made “thingamabob.” This was enough to overcome the friction of the bobbin on the string zipline, and the thingamabob sped along its path until it hit a ball-peen hammer that had been attached to a fulcrum at its base. The hammer tipped over and pressed the ignition switch of a butane lighter, creating a flame.

September 2 – 12:03 PM

Scootaloo’s patience with Sweetie Belle had already worn away, but that unicorn simply refused to think through the matter rationally. “No, Sweetie Belle, you’re the one who’s lost sight of what’s important.”

Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes. “You mean our cutie marks? Come on, everypony around us keeps telling us that they aren’t everything. Maybe they’re right. Maybe there’s more important things in the world, like not poisoning innocent ponies!”

“For your information, I wasn’t talking about getting our cutie marks,” Scootaloo replied as she poked Sweetie Belle in the chest. “I was talking about protecting everypony from the humans. I say that keeping everypony safe is way more important than keeping just one pony safe.”

“Yeah,” Apple Bloom said with a firm nod of her head. “Maybe you oughta try thinkin’ about somepony other than yourself for once.”

Once again, Sweetie Belle seemed ready to blow a gasket. “What?!”

September 2 – 12:04 PM

The rope had been selected for two properties: its strength and its relative flammability. Thus, it wasn’t long before the lighter’s flame burned through it, releasing Pinkie Pie’s reinforced disco ball, which swung on a pendulum until it slammed into Tom. The massive boulder was strapped to a pair of skateboards, and the force of the impact was more than enough to send him rolling down a wooden plank.

September 2 – 12:04 PM

“Well, if you’re so freaking offended, why don’t you just leave?!” Scootaloo shouted.

“Fine! I will!” Sweetie Belle answered. The unicorn turned and began storming back towards Ponyville. “Maybe I’ll just quit this whole stupid crusade, too!”

“Whoa, hold up,” Apple Bloom said, raising a hoof.

Sweetie Belle turned back around. “No, I’m serious. It’s just not—”

“No,” Apple Bloom said, shaking her head. “I think I heard somethin’ like a bang...” She looked in the general direction of where she’d heard the noise, and noticed two things. First, most of their trap’s components had already been sprung. Second, Tom had just rolled onto a makeshift wooden pressure plate connected to the trebuchet’s firing mechanism. As the hoof-knotted, pine-tar-coated net was catapulted in the air, Apple Bloom looked down and realized that she and Scootaloo were standing on top of the target that they’d etched into the ground when they were calibrating their trap. She had just enough time to say, “Oh, horseapples,” before the sticky net landed on top of them.

September 2 – 12:05 PM

The fog was close to its breaking point now—really close. Thunderlane was sure of it. It wasn’t just bits and pieces breaking off from the relatively unstable upper regions of the formation now. The chunks were starting to come out closer to the mountain’s peaks, and they were getting larger. Most were still the size of snowballs, but a few watermelon-sized globs of vapor were tumbling down the mountain. Even the fog near the ground was now undulating with increasing frequency. It was all creating an uneasy feeling in the pit of Thunderlane’s stomach, like an unpalatable cocktail of stage fright and indigestion. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt the urge to fly as far away as possible as strongly as he felt it now, standing alone on a treeless mountainside and staring at a grey wall that pulsated with indifferent menace.

Then, all of a sudden, it happened: a great tear formed in the fog’s edge to Thunderlane’s left, ripping the wall from bottom to top, and the contents which had been held back poured forth. Even with his fog suit, Thunderlane was nearly bowled over when some of the grey miasma clipped his wing. He managed to regain control of himself and took off for Ponyville. Powerful though it was, the fog was still slow compared to a full-grown pegasus flying at top speed, which was most fortunate; the morass now pouring down the mountainside was something that Thunderlane wouldn’t wish upon his worst enemy.

September 2 – 12:06 PM

“Ugh...” Scootaloo groaned. “How on earth did we manage to find a way to make tree sap even sappier? More importantly, how did we manage to get covered in it again?” The dark brown goo that had coated the net was already oozing into her mane and wings, and her initial attempts to pull the net off had only resulted in getting one of her forehooves even more tangled than it already was.

“In case you forgot, we used pine tar ta make it hard for the human to escape from the net,” Apple Bloom said. “No surprise it works just as well on us.” The earth pony managed to rise to a standing position, but in so doing, she shifted the net and inadvertently plucked a few sticky feathers from one of Scootaloo’s wings.

“Ow!” the pegasus cried. “Watch it!”

“Serves you right,” Sweetie Belle said as the volume of her voice dropped dramatically from its strident, arguing tone. “If we’d stayed at the party, the trap wouldn’t have been triggered, and you to wouldn’t be such a mess.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Apple Bloom said. “What goes around, comes around, and all those other old-timey sayings. You should talk to Granny Smith; she’s got a million of ’em. Now how about you find us some water so we can wash off the pine tar an’ get outta this net?”

Sweetie Belle sighed. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go get some help?”

“No way!” Scootaloo said. “Not only will that take way too much time, but if you bring a grownup out here, they’ll never give us a chance to reset the trap before the humans show up.”

Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes. “What’s the point? It takes so long for this thing to go off that there’s no way a human is going to stand still long enough to get caught.” The tirade stalled briefly as an obvious exception popped into Sweetie Belle’s mind. “I mean, unless that human is too busy arguing with its friends to move around.”

Scootaloo sighed. “I guess you have a point there...”

Sweetie Belle leaned forward and placed a hoof near her ear. “What was that you said? I’m not sure I understood you.”

“You were right, okay?” Scootaloo groaned. “We should have gone with a simple plan like digging a pit. In fact, I think if you get us out of here, and we use that jackhammer to loosen up the soil a bit, we can still pull that plan off.”

“Really?” Sweetie Belle asked. For the first time since they’d left the party, a smile crept onto her face. Somehow, it was difficult to maintain her moral indignation towards ponies who were admitting that she was right.

“It ain’t like we got any other options,” Apple Bloom said. “So are ya gonna help us out or what?”

“Sure!” Sweetie Belle said brightly as she turned and cheerfully cantered off towards the trap.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” Scootaloo shouted.

“I’m going to get the jackhammer, obviously,” Sweetie Belle said as turned around. She cocked one of her eyebrows bemusedly. “Didn’t you just say you wanted to dig a pit?”

“Yeah, but unless you wanna dig that pit all by your lonesome, first you’re gonna hafta get us outta this net,” Apple Bloom said. “And that means gettin’ some water.”

“Oh, come on. It’s not like the two of you can’t coordinate well enough to walk to the nearest water pump on your own.”

“Walking? Sweetie Belle, right now, we’re having trouble standing,” Scootaloo said.

“So? With a little more practice...” Sweetie Belle trailed off as her attention was drawn to a sudden drop in the ambient temperature. She looked at her friends and blinked a few times. “Um, is it just me, or are the two of you looking... blurrier?”

Apple Bloom forced her head through the net and took a look around. “I don’t think we’re blurry,” she said with a note of concern in her voice. “I... I think the orchard’s gettin’ misty.”

September 2 – 12:10 PM

Twilight Sparkle pressed her eye against the telescope on her observation deck. She wasn’t used to using it in the daylight, but it still seemed to be functioning well—though the upside-down image it produced was a bit more difficult to get used to when it wasn’t pointed at the night sky. Still, the image was clear enough to corroborate Thunderlane’s report. She walked back inside of the library where the others were waiting for her. She paused at the top of the stairway in the library’s central room and looked down towards the floor, making eye contact with the most important pony in the room. “The fog has reached the edge of Sweet Apple Acres, Fluttershy.”

“Okay,” Fluttershy replied with a slight nod. “Can you see how far in it’s gotten?”

“Well, it’s not particularly easy, given my viewing angle, but I can have another look to see if I can make more specific observations.”

“Thank you, Twilight,” Fluttershy said. “Keep a lookout for any sudden changes, but be sure to come inside before the fog reaches Ponyville.”

Twilight briefly nodded her head before heading back outside to the observation deck. Meanwhile, Fluttershy’s attention moved to the other two occupants of the room. She idly raised a hoof to straighten out her cravat. Rarity had only agreed to stop pestering her about the fashion faux-pas of wearing a burgundy cravat with a reflective silver fog suit when Fluttershy had agreed to remove it if she reached the point where she’d need to pull the suit’s cowl over her head, though Fluttershy suspected the nagging would resume once Rarity returned with lunch, albeit far less overtly.

Satisfied that she was properly conveying her authority through her neckwear, Fluttershy cleared her throat and addressed the black stallion who was, at that moment, pacing the outer edges of the library and staring at the bookshelves without really reading anything on the spines. “Thank you very much for your report, Thunderlane.”

“Huh? Oh, no problem,” Thunderlane replied. “What should I do next?”

Fluttershy tapped her hoof against her chin for a second before answering: “I think you’d better head over to the town hall. Applejack needs to alert the rest of the safety patrol. Oh, and when you’re done with that, perhaps you could observe the fog as it enters the Everfree Forest. If the plan doesn’t work out the way I think it will, I’ll need to know as soon as possible.”

“I think I can handle telling Applejack, but you might want to find another pegasus to observe the fog,” Thunderland said. “You can’t really sit on a cloud when you’re wearing a fog suit, after all, and I’m not too keen on hovering until the fog reaches the forest to get a decent top-down view.”

“Well, you don’t really need to be up in the air the whole time, do you?” Fluttershy asked. “If you wait on the ground near the forest, you can take off when the fog passes by.”

Thunderlane didn’t seem particularly keen on standing around that close to the Everfree Forest, either, but he didn’t bother arguing the point. “Okay,” he said, “I’ll go talk to the safety patrol, and I’ll be back once the fog hits Everfree.” He walked over to the library’s front door, pushed it open, and took off.

Fluttershy turned to the third fog-suited pegasus in the room, who was sitting on a stool and meticulously preening her feathers to maximize the efficiency of her wing-flaps, which explained why she hadn’t joined in with the previous conversations. “Rainbow, could you head over to the party and let Pinkie know that the fog is moving?”

Rainbow Dash quickly folded her wing to her side and stood up. “Not a problem. Do you want me to gather more data for Twilight when I’m done?”

“I probably will,” Fluttershy replied, “but first, you should report back here to let me know if any issues have come up at the party.”

“Got it,” Rainbow said as she walked out of the door and took flight.

Alone in the library’s main room, Fluttershy returned her attention to the large weather map of the area spread out on a table before her. She began carefully marking off various sections and adding notes with a pencil. She’d need to monitor the fog’s progress very closely if she was to do her job properly.

Well, that, and it would give her something to think about other than Pencil Pusher.

September 2 – 12:17 PM

As Rainbow Dash was rather pressed for time, she didn’t really have the luxury of heading down into the party to speak with Pinkie Pie directly, which meant that she had to leave a message with the pony at the door. Fortunately, that pony happened to deliver messages for a living in the first place.

“So, you got all of that, Derpy?”

“I think so,” Derpy said. “The fog’s headed towards Ponyville right now, and everypony here needs to stay inside until somepony tells them it’s safe.”

Rainbow smiled. “I think that just about covers it,” she said with a light chuckle. “So, how’s the party going? Anything major that Fluttershy needs to worry about?”

Derpy shook her head. “I don’t think so. Should I ask Pinkie Pie for you?”

“Nah,” Rainbow said with a wave of her forehoof. “If something really important happened, she’d probably have let you know about it already. Besides, ponies from the safety patrol are going to be popping in all day anyway, so it’s not like this is her only chance to get a message to Fluttershy.”

She was just about to leave when an odd look on Derpy’s face made her pause. “Uh, are you sure you’re okay?’ Rainbow asked as she leaned slightly closer to Derpy. “You kind of look like you’ve got motion sickness. Were you trying to pull off some aerobatics to entertain the foals?”

“No,” Derpy said with a shake of her head. “I’m pretty sure it was just a muffin. I think the blueberries weren’t quite ripe yet, and it didn’t sit well with my stomach, that’s all.”

“Well, if you’re sure you’ll be okay...”

Derpy waved one of her hooves dismissively. “I’ll be fine. Anyway, is this message something that Pinkie needs to hear right away, or can it wait fifteen minutes until somepony else takes their shift at the door?”

Rainbow Dash rubbed her chin for a few seconds as she considered her answer. “Eh, I suppose it can wait. Even if the fog manages to get to town before then, this bunker is sealed off, right?”

“Uh-huh,” Derpy replied with a nod.

“Cool,” Rainbow said. “I’ll see you around, Derpy.”

“Stay safe,” Derpy called back as Rainbow Dash left the bunker and exited the candy shop.

Once she was outside again, Rainbow took to the air and flew back towards the library. Though the journey was brief, she still had time to glance to the northwest, where the grey mass had already poured down the mountain and had already swallowed most of Sweet Apple Acres in its gloom.

Whoa, that thing’s moving pretty fast, Rainbow thought to herself as she looked at the seething miasma. It’s kinda like a flash flood, only with fog instead of water. I guess that would make it... what, a flash fog, then? The weatherpony made a mental note to ask the local fog specialist if that was the right phrase when the whole ordeal was over. Right now, her job was more important than proper terminology.

Author's Note

As it just so happens, "flash fog" is not the proper phrase to describe the current threat. Though I originally intended the title to evoke the notion of a flash flood, somewhere around Chapter 25 or so, I found out that flash fogs are those that spontaneously develop and disperse in a matter of minutes. Of course, by then, it was a little late to change the title of the story.

September 2 – 12:30 PM

“You’re certain these are the blueberries you used?”

Mrs. Cake nodded emphatically. “I’m positive, Pinkie Pie. We only opened one bag of dehydrated blueberries to make those muffins, and this is it.”

Pinkie screwed up her muzzle in frustration as she looked around the bunker’s cluttered kitchen. She’d come close to panicking when Derpy’s shift at the door ended and the lazy-eyed mare had told her of the “stomach problem” that had followed shortly after eating a blueberry muffin. Derpy seemed perfectly content to brush off the incident, but Pinkie had other ideas. She had promised Fluttershy her best party ever, and in her mind, no “best party ever” was going to feature endless gallons of vomit. She was determined that there would be a five-gallon maximum of puke, and even that was expected to be mostly the result of improper house-bouncing.

“Has anypony else complained about the muffins?” Mr. Cake asked as Pinkie sniffed the contents of the bag and carefully chewed a few of the dried berries.

“I wouldn’t really call what Derpy said to me a complaint,” Pinkie replied as she closed the bag again, “but no, nopony else has said anything, and I couldn’t find any nasty-looking stains on the carpet.” Pinkie tapped her foot against her chin as she tried to come up with a solid explanation. She wished she’d had the foresight to bring her crime scene investigation kit to the party, or at the very least her detecting hat and bubble pipe. “Maybe she’s allergic?” she eventually ventured.

“I doubt it,” Mrs. Cake replied. “She eats blueberry muffins from the shop all the time.”

“But you normally use fresh blueberries in your recipe,” Pinkie Pie pointed out. “Maybe Derpy is allergic to whatever was used to dry these out.”

“Maybe,” Mrs. Cake said, “but I doubt it. I’ve never heard of anypony getting sick from this brand’s other dried fruit.”

“Really?” Pinkie exclaimed. “Wow, this is a puzzler. Well, I suppose the best we can do is just take the blueberry muffins off the menu. There’s no point in risking anypony else getting sick if we don’t have to.”

The Cakes nodded in agreement, and Pinkie Pie headed back out into the main room to oversee a spirited round of “Celestia Says.”

September 2 – 12:33 PM

Fluttershy sat in the main room of the Golden Oaks library, listening to yet another of the day’s many reports. This one was delivered by Thunderlane, who had interrupted a conversation with Applejack to tell Fluttershy that the fog had reached the edge of the Everfree Forest. Given the obvious importance of the information, Applejack didn’t mind hanging back with Twilight while Fluttershy learned what was going on.

“...Basically, it appears the fog is in fact dispersing as it enters the Everfree Forest, and so far, it appears to be behaving like normal fog, though none of the weather team seems willing to enter the forest to have a closer look. The trouble is that it’s definitely not causing a chain reaction throughout the entire fog bank; it looks like the forest’s magic only affects the clouds that are inside of it.”

Fluttershy nodded her head as she listened to Thunderlane’s report. “I suspected that might be the case. After all, this is a premium building material, so Caligo would want to make sure it could hold up even if part of it was destroyed in some sort of accident. Is there anything else?”

Thunderlane continued, “Well, I’ve asked a half-dozen weatherponies to patrol the edges of the Everfree Forest to see if they notice the fog escaping.”

Fluttershy wrinkled her brow with concern. “You think the fog might revert to its more dangerous state if it leaves the forest?”

Thunderlane shrugged his shoulders noncommittally. “I have no idea, but if it does, I don’t think anypony wants to be surprised by it.”

“So, what does all this mean?” Twilight Sparkle asked, interjecting herself into the conversation.

“Oh, not much, really,” replied Fluttershy. “Essentially, it just means that Pinkie’s party is going to have to continue for a few more hours. I’m sure she can handle that.”

“You want me ta let her know?” Applejack asked. “I was about to head on over to make sure everthin’ was going okay anyway.”

“That would be very helpful,” Fluttershy said gratefully.

Applejack tipped her hat politely and pulled on her coat before opening the door and heading out into the fog.

“I’d better be going as well,” Thunderlane said. “Rainbow Dash and I have taken to using the Carousel Boutique as our rendezvous point so we can exchange information while Rarity checks our fog suits for any problems. You want me to send either of them back here to touch base with you?”

“No,” replied Fluttershy after some consideration, “I think I’ll be alright for now.”

After Thunderlane left, leaving Fluttershy alone with her designated number-cruncher, Twilight turned towards her friend and enthusiastically told her, “Congratulations—”

Fluttershy cut Twilight off with a long sigh. “Um, no offense, but I’d rather you held off on congratulating me until the fog was gone. There’s still a lot that can go wrong.”

Twilight shook her head. “No, no. I didn’t mean it that way. I just think you should be commended for your insight on how the Everfree Forest might affect the weather magic—not to mention having the confidence to follow through with your idea.”

“Oh,” she said as a small smile crept onto her face. “Well, if that’s the case, thank you.”

“Not only that,” Twilight continued, “but all the data that Rainbow Dash and Thunderlane have been gathering would definitely prove useful for publishing your findings in an academic journal.” Here, the studious unicorn paused awkwardly. “Um... if you need some help writing a paper, I’d be glad to join as a coauthor.”

“Um, that’s alright. You can do it on your own, if you like. I won’t mind.”

“But I would,” Twilight said. “It was your hypothesis, after all. It would be unethical for me to take full credit for it, even if I handled all of the analysis. Look, Fluttershy, if the data ends up supporting your idea as well as it appears to, it shows that you have a really intuitive grasp of how unpredictable magic works. In fact, if Discord ever shows his face around here again, it might be a better idea to put you in charge.”

“Okay, now you’re just being silly.”

September 2 – 12:40 PM

Apple Bloom wasn’t certain how long it had been since Sweetie Belle had left, but she figured it couldn’t have been too long, since neither she nor Scootaloo seemed to be doing any worse. Then again, that was a spectacularly low bar to begin with, as Apple Bloom was all but certain that her friend’s wing was badly injured, and both of them were shivering in the fog’s cold, damp air. At least Scootaloo was once again coherent enough to maintain a conversation, though none of the topics she wanted to discuss were particularly pleasant.

“Can you hear anything out there?”

Apple Bloom strained her ears before answering, “No, can’t say I do, Scootaloo.”

“Well, that... that’s good, right? Sweetie Belle would make a lot of noise if they got her, right?”

“Ya mean the grownups?”

“No, I mean the humans!”

“Oh, right.” Apple Bloom really didn’t want to think about the sinister bipeds, but the alternative was listening to the chattering of her teeth. “Do ya think they’re really as bad as Bon-Bon says?”

“Of course,” Scootaloo replied in a half-groan. “She’s an adult. When adults lie to foals, it’s always because they’re hiding all the nasty stuff, and she told us plenty of that sort of thing.”

Apple Bloom didn’t seem so sure. “I guess that’s true sometimes, but what about when they’re just tryin’ ta scare us so we don’t do somethin’ stupid?”

Scootaloo drew in a shuddering breath before she answered. “If that’s what she was trying to do, I don’t think it worked very well. Besides, she wasn’t trying to stop us from doing anything when we asked her about them, so why would she make something up?”

“I s’pose I get your point, but, well, what if Miss Bon-Bon ain’t technically lyin’ because she thinks it's the truth? What if she’s just wrong?”

“What? You think her friend’s the one who’s right about humans now?”

Apple Bloom shook her head. “No, it’s just—”

“Apple Bloom, there’s no point in fooling yourself into thinking the humans will rescue us. We... just need to trust Sweetie Belle, that’s all. She’ll be able to get help. She’s the smart one, remember?”

September 2 – 12:41 PM

This was a really, really bad idea...

Sweetie Belle had felt certain that she’d run into trouble when she’d left her friends, and unfortunately, reality was not disappointing her. For the past few minutes, the familiar landscape of Sweet Apple Acres had been reduced to a series of apple trees emerging from the mist as she kept moving, each one looking exactly the same as the last. The dampness of the air was starting to affect her mane, which was sticking to her skin as it grew more and more disorderly, to the point where it seemed like she was pausing every other step to push strands out of her eyes.

Still, she kept moving, partly to stave off the fog’s chill, partly because she knew her friends were counting on her, and partly because of the inescapable sense of dread that seemed to have gathered in the pit of her stomach. It felt like she had to keep moving, because to stop would mean that she’d have to confront the unnameable monstrosity that vexed her. Was it the humans? By this point, Sweetie Belle wasn’t even sure.

No... she thought to herself. I know exactly what it is. It’s the fog. The fog, which she had assumed was only dangerous because it was acting as a sort of smoke bomb for invaders, was staging an invasion all by itself. It had enveloped her, swallowed her, and if she stopped now, the cold that kept biting into her skin would consume her utterly, just as surely as it would consume her friends.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was going in circles, but then, a small part of her wanted to be going in circles, in the perverse hope that she’d stumble across Apple Bloom and Scootaloo once again so the three of them could give in to despair and face the end together. No! I can’t think like that, Sweetie Belle admonished herself. She had to keep moving, if only in the vain hope that she might stumble upon something that might hint at the direction she ought to be traveling.

The unicorn filly was so preoccupied with the all-encompassing gloom that she almost didn’t notice when the grass beneath her hooves suddenly transitioned to gravel. It took Sweetie Belle a few moments before she realized that she was standing on one of the cart paths that were strewn throughout the orchard to make it easier to transport the apples at harvest time. If she followed this path, it could very well take her to the main road, and from there, she could get back to town! Well, unless she turned away from town...

But I’m pretty sure that would just lead me to the Apple’s farmhouse, and we already know that Granny Smith is there. Granny Smith could lend her one of Apple Bloom’s winter coats, and Sweetie Belle could then head into town, or perhaps help her look for the other two Crusaders assuming they could avoid being detected by humans.... But that was only if she actually got to the main road from this path, and as she turned around, she couldn’t make out a single clue that might tell her which direction led out of the orchard, and which one would take her even further in. Nor did she have any idea how many branches and forks might be between her current location and that road.

Still, this path was better than nothing, and there seemed to be little point to standing still so she could shiver with indecision. Steeling her resolve, Sweetie Belle decided to turn to her left and keep pressing on, all the while desperately hoping she wasn’t supposed to head right.

September 2 – 12:46 PM

Not surprisingly, Pinkie Pie didn’t seem particularly worried upon learning that her party would need to continue for a few more hours: “Now there’s time to break open both piñatas!” she squealed as she she grabbed Applejack in a bear hug before galloping through the crowd towards one of the back rooms. Now left to her own devices in the doorway of the bunker’s main hall, Applejack decided to take the opportunity to check up on her little sister. Apple Bloom had been unusually grumpy about attending the party, which was a little odd, since Pinkie Pie was throwing it, but Applejack had just assumed that her sister had really been unhappy with her lack of any choice in the matter, rather than having any genuine belief that the party would be boring. Still, it would probably be a good idea to take some time to touch base with the Crusaders, if only to make sure they weren’t hatching some harebrained scheme out of boredom.

Applejack scanned the room, and a smile appeared on her face as she looked at all the joyful foals playing assorted games and generally having a good time. She didn’t see her sister’s large, pink ribbon sticking out from the crowd, but for all she knew, that just meant that the Crusaders were off in a side room. Wow... Pinkie’s really outdone herself this time, Applejack thought to herself as her eyes settled on the massive bounce house, which was obviously the most popular attraction at the party. Applejack strolled towards the elastic edifice to all things fun; if anypony would have a clue as to the Crusaders’ whereabout, it would probably be the pony supervising the inflatable structure... who turned out to be an unexpectedly familiar face.

“Howdy, Pencil,” Applejack said once it seemed that the bureaucrat’s duties weren’t taking his full attention.

“Oh, hello, Ms. Applejack,” Pencil Pusher replied. “How are things going outside?”

“Pretty good, all things considered. We’ve had to take a few ponies to the hospital, but so far there haven’t been any unexpected bumps in the road, if ya know what I mean.”

“I think I do,” Pencil replied with a nod.

“How about you, then? I take it watchin’ a bounce house is foal’s play compared to what Fluttershy’s had you do over the last few days.”

“Compared to that, yeah... though I have to admit that I never expected to have a heart-to-heart with a lovesick dragon.”

“Beggin’ your pardon?”

“The little purple guy,” Pencil Pusher said as he waved a hoof to another corner of the room, where Spike was officiating a limbo contest. “Apparently, he’s got his sights set on Ms. Rarity, and for some reason, he thought she was interested in me. Can you believe it?”

Applejack didn’t answer right away; she wasn’t certain that this was the time to reveal just how much she knew about Pencil Pusher’s own romantic goals. Eventually, she settled on an old Apple family standby: the “technically true” statement. “Yeah, I s’pose I can believe it. Say, you wouldn’t happen to have seen my sister and her friends around, have you?”

“I might have,” said Pencil. “What do they look like.”

“Yellow earth pony, white unicorn, and an orange pegasus. No cutie marks.”

“Hmm...” Pencil rubbed his chin as he went over his recent memories. “You know, I think I did see them. They all took a turn on the bounce house soon after the party started. I remember because the pegasus wasn’t too happy that the unicorn didn’t wait for the other two. I don’t think I’ve seen them since, though.”

“Swell,” Applejack said as she rolled her eyes. “Where’d you last see them?”

“I think they were headed towards the exit. I’m not sure why, though. The door’s being watched to prevent anypony from getting out without authorization.”

“I see...” Applejack said. Sounds like those three were up to something. “Well, I s’pose I’ll just ask the guard pony where they went. See ya later, Pencil.”

However, talking to the guard pony turned out to be a bit more complicated than Applejack had anticipated, because the pony at the bunker’s entrance wasn’t the one who’d been there when the Crusaders were last spotted; indeed, hardly anypony had seen Derpy Hooves at all since she returned to the party from her shift at the door. This wouldn’t have bothered Applejack too much in itself, except she hadn’t found any sign of the Crusaders, either. Admittedly, there were several plausible explanations for their apparent absence, but with the possible exception of some variation of “hide and seek,” none of them were pleasant. They’ve probably managed to find some doohickey Bon-Bon keeps down here, Applejack reasoned. And I bet they’re off in some empty room tryin’ to “earn” their cutie marks again.

Of course, she didn’t exactly have all day to find the wayward trio, so Applejack decided to cut to the chase and just ask Pinkie Pie about it. The ever-cheerful pink pony stopped fussing over a massive pair of papier-mâché changelings long enough to tell her that she hadn’t noticed the Crusaders in all the hustle and bustle of the party, but that Derpy was recuperating from a mysterious stomach malady in one of the quieter side rooms.

Indeed, Applejack found the grey pegasus lying on a rollaway bed in the room Pinkie had pointed out to her. “Uh, hey there, Derpy,” she said.

“Oh, hi, Applejack,” Derpy replied as she tilted her head in the earth pony’s direction.

“Er, I heard you had a little stomach trouble a while back. You feelin’ up ta talkin’ at the moment?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Derpy replied as she ascended to a sitting position. “It’s really all the noise of the party that’s giving me trouble right now more than anything with my tummy.”

“Uh, okay. Don’t worry, this’ll be pretty quick. Have you seen my sister an’ her friends? Last anypony saw ’em, they were headed up the stairs to where you were.”

“Oh,” Derpy replied as she abruptly broke eye contact (at least, Applejack had the impression that the eye that had maintained contact had done so of its own accord). “Um, well, I guess I did see them. It was near the start of the party, right around the time I let Twilight Sparkle’s dragon friend in.”

“You mean Spike?”

“Yeah,” Derpy nodded, but then she hesitated, apparently unsure how to continue. “They, er, wanted to bring me something, since I was by myself while the party was going on.”

“Really? That was mighty nice of them. What’d they get ya?”

“Um, a blueberry muffin.”

“Sounds nice,” Applejack said. “So, you got any idea where they got off to after they were done talkin’ to you?”

“N-Not really.”

Under normal circumstances, this answer might have been satisfactory, but the obvious wavering in Derpy’s responses suggested that there was something being unsaid. “Derpy... is there somethin’ you’re not tellin’ me?”

Derpy swallowed hard, and after a few moments of hesitation, she began explaining things more clearly. “Well, you see, after I ate the blueberry muffin, I sort of had that stomach problem that you heard about. It was... well it, wasn’t pleasant. To be honest, this muffin didn’t quite taste like the muffins I normally get at Sugarcube Corner. It had a sort of medicine-y aftertaste to it, though at the time I didn’t really pay very close attention to it because that was when I had to open the door to let Spike inside. It was right after that that I got really sick for a few minutes. When I came back, the three of them weren’t there.”

Applejack looked slightly panic-stricken. “And you’d already opened the door?” she asked, clearly trying to force herself to remain calm.

“Well, yes, but I closed it, too. At least, I’m pretty sure I did.”

“So... do you reckon that they accidentally gave you a bad muffin, and they’ve been hidin’ because they think you’re mad at them, then?”

“Well,” Derpy said sheepishly as her face reddened with a tinge of embarrassment, “I guess I kind of thought that they might have done it on purpose, because I can’t imagine that the Cakes would ever serve muffins that tasted like that. But I can’t imagine why anypony would want to make a muffin taste bad, either, and, well, after thinking about it for a bit, I figured I’d just drop the whole thing. I mean, I don’t really have any proof that they did anything wrong, and I wouldn’t want some innocent foals to get in trouble on my account.”

“But you’re certain that they’re inside, though?” Applejack said. “There’s no way they could have gotten out while you were distracted?”

“I don’t think so... though, now that I think about it, I don’t actually remember closing the door, even though it was shut when I came back to my post. I guess they could have left and closed the door behind them... but really, why would anypony want to go outside where it’s dangerous when Pinkie Pie is throwing a party inside?”

Applejack let out a pained, exasperated sigh and placed one of her forehooves on the grey pony’s shoulder. “Bless your heart, Derpy Hooves,” the farmpony said in a strained tone of voice that made her sound like she was desperately trying to avoid visibly cringing in front of the other mare—and only partially succeeding.

“Oh, thank you,” Derpy replied happily as Applejack turned and left the room.

A minute or so later, the farmpony was tapping Pinkie Pie on the shoulder. “Pinkie, I need to find the Crusaders. Now.”

Pinkie arched one of her eyebrows in concern. “Sure, Applejack. Any reason?”

“Yeah. I’m worried they might be off somewhere bein’ themselves, and after talkin’ to Derpy, I think there’s a chance that this particular somewhere might be outside the bunker.”

Pinkie’s eyes grew wide as her mane deflated ever so slightly. “Oh no!” she gasped. “Are you sure?”

“Well, I ain’t totally sure yet, which is why I’d appreciate a headcount as soon as you can get me one.”

This turned out to take a shockingly brief amount of time, even by Pinkie Pie’s standards. As she stood against the wall watching the pink blur dart around the bunker, Applejack couldn’t suppress her amazement at Pinkie’s ability navigate the densely crowded rooms without interrupting the partygoers. Just a few minutes later, she returned, looking grim.

“We’re three foals short,” Pinkie said, her ears drooping. “I counted twice, just to make sure, and none of them were the Crusaders. I mean, I might have missed them if they’re in a really crowded part of the bunker... but I didn’t see Apple Bloom’s ribbon anywhere, and I can’t imagine why she’d take it off.”

“Neither can I,” Applejack said as she bit her lower lip and willed herself to remain calm. Getting worked up into a tizzy wouldn’t help anypony right now.

“Do you want me to stop the party and do a full roll call?”

“No,” Applejack replied after some consideration. “There ain’t no need to panic the ponies that are here. Just be on the lookout for the Crusaders in case you missed ’em the first time around, and let one of the safety patrol members know if you find them.”

“And what about you?”

“What do ya think I’m gonna do?” Applejack said as she located her coat and put it on. “I’m gonna find my sister, that’s what.”

“Oh, right. Good luck!”

Applejack took the time to silently nod a farewell to her friend and galloped up the stairway and out of the bunker. Fortunately for her, a member of the safety patrol was passing by the candy shop as she exited the building. “You!” she shouted, startling the stallion.

“Applejack! Is something wrong?”

“Yeah, there is. Get to the clock tower and sound the alarm. By the time the rest of the patrol is there, I’ll have already explained everything to Fluttershy and we can get started.”

“Get started? Doing what?”

“I’ll explain later!” Applejack shouted as she rushed away into the mist.

September 2 – 12:53 PM

Sweetie Belle kept to the path as she continued to trudge through the unnaturally murky orchard. Every few seconds, she would look up from the ground and strain her eyes in an effort to catch of glimpse of civilization (or at the very least the Apple family’s farmhouse), but so far, she’d seen nothing but barely visible tree trunks, though occasionally she thought she saw weird undulations in the fog’s consistency that almost seemed like shadowy figures moving through the orchard. However, Sweetie Belle was also fairly certain that if those amorphous visions were really humans, they’d be making some sort of noise, and Sweetie Belle couldn’t hear anything other than the steady beat of her hooves against the dirt road. This silence, however, was somehow even more unsettling than the everyday background noise she was used to hearing while visiting Sweet Apple Acres. I need to get out of here, she thought to herself as she increased her pace through the silvery haze.

However, despite her sporadic flirting with delusional paranoia, it seemed as though Sweetie Belle’s idea to follow the path was working out. The first fork in the road she came across didn’t discourage her; in fact it was obvious that one of the three pathways branched out into the other two, and as Sweetie Belle had been on one of those tributary paths, that meant that she had indeed chosen the correct direction. It seemed that, despite all her worries, she really was making an eventual rescue more likely by searching for help instead of staying put.

Those feelings of optimism dissipated when Sweetie Belle turned a corner and found herself not at a fork, but a crossroads. Worse, each road seemed to be approximately the same width, and had apparently seen the same amount of use. It seemed that not all of the paths through the orchard were shaped like the branches of a tree; the larger ones, apparently, were laid out more like a grid, which meant that getting lost was a real possibility. In fact, Sweetie Belle now realized that in the course of her investigation, she had completely forgotten which road she’d traveled to reach this point.

However, before she could settle on a choice between panic and despair, her train of thought was disrupted by the repeated peals of a bell off in the distance. At first, Sweetie Belle took this as evidence that her mind was playing tricks on her; she was almost certain that it was only one o’clock in the afternoon, and even if she had completely lost track of time, the bell was sounding far too many times for it to be noon. Why would they even bother ringing the clock tower bell in the first place? she thought to herself. Isn’t everypony supposed to be inside, where it’s nice and warm and safe from invading humans?

Sweetie Belle shook her head rapidly to try to clear her mind. Right now, she didn’t have time to dwell on such ideas; she needed to keep moving, not only to find help, but also to stave off the numbness in her legs that seemed to keep getting worse the longer she remained in the fog’s bitter chill. Besides, now she at least had a clue to orient herself in the orchard: if that noise had indeed been the clock tower bell, that meant that Ponyville was somewhere in front of her. As she had no reason to favor any of the other pathways, she elected to take the road in front of her.

September 2 – 12:59 PM

“They did what?!”

Applejack winced as she quickly clapped a hoof against the side of her head. She hadn’t really expected Rarity to react to the new situation with any sort of stoicism, but she could have done without the indignant shriek directly into her ear. “Look, Rarity, it’s just a strong possibility. Like Derpy said, there ain’t actually any proof that they did somethin’ wrong, so for all I know there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation that I just can’t think of at the moment. Besides, right now, knowin’ how they got out ain’t all that helpful.” Having thus momentarily quieted the raging unicorn, Applejack turned her attention back to Fluttershy. “I’m plannin’ on sendin’ out search parties as soon as possible. You okay with that?”

Fluttershy nodded. “Of course. The sooner we find the Crusaders, the better.”

“Alright, then,” Applejack replied. “Then I’d best be gettin’ out to the clock tower so I can explain what’s going on to the safety patrol.” With that, the farmpony turned and exited the library. Thus, when Twilight chose to deal with the new information by retreating to a separate room and going over her calculations once again, the only company Fluttershy had was Rarity, who had made her way to the library to check on Fluttershy’s still-untested fog suit. However, with her sister in mortal peril (again), the fashionista’s interest in glaringly ugly safety gear soon reached its nadir.

“This is most disturbing,” Rarity said as she paced nervously around the room with a somewhat bewildered expression on her face. “I feel as though my mind can’t decide whether to be worried or angry.”

Fluttershy seemed to find this statement confusing. “Angry? Why would you be angry? I can understand feeling a little disappointed....”

“Disappointment is how one responds to mere bad judgement. This, however, is clearly a case of moral failure.”

“Moral failure?” Fluttershy repeated.

Rarity let out an exasperated sigh. “If the Crusaders truly believe that there is nothing wrong with drugging a lady simply because she won’t give you something you want, then it would appear that some remediary moral instruction is needed,” Rarity replied stiffly.

Fluttershy sighed. “I suppose I can’t disagree, but right now, don’t you think you should be more concerned with your sister’s safety?”

Rarity looked aghast. “Fluttershy, of course I’m concerned!” she replied, placing a hoof over her chest. “Ensuring the Crusaders’ safety ought to be our first priority. I’m simply... stunned that their usual recklessness has been equaled by their thoughtlessness.”

“Well,” Fluttershy said as she stared absently out the window at the grey mass, “I suppose we’ll have to make sure they’re still around to learn their lesson.”

September 2 – 1:12 PM

One of the disadvantages of trying to address a crowd of ponies who had assembled in the middle of an abnormally-thick fog was that it was rather difficult to get a sense of how many ponies were in the audience. Unfortunately, even though Applejack certainly would have preferred to have everypony gather in the town hall, the clock tower was the one with the bell, and to minimize the chance of safety patrol members stumbling around town, she’d decided to make the clock tower the emergency meetup spot so everypony could simply follow the sound of the bell’s peals. Still, there was at least one advantage to addressing the group outdoors: the fog’s damp, bitter chill underscored the gravity of the situation far more effectively than an oratorical flourish ever could, which was a great boon, since Applejack hated it when she felt pressured to use highfalutin’ fancy talk.

“So that’s basically where we’re at right now,” she said as she ended her explanation of the situation. “Now, y’all are gonna get paired off and assigned to a different part of Ponyville and the surrounding area. Make sure you don’t rush things while you’re searchin’; even though we got limited time, we don’t wanna overlook these fillies. If anypony finds them, try to bring them back to town, unless they’re really badly injured, in which case one of you can head back while the other sticks with them. Keep searchin’ until you hear the clock tower bell again. You hear that, it means I need y’all to regroup here. Got it?”

After a few seconds of affirmative mumbling, Applejack set about organizing the search party. As the pairs of ponies went off to search their designated sections of the Ponyville area, the numbers slowly dwindled down until there were only three ponies left. One of these three ponies was Big Macintosh, and Applejack had saved him for the end because she already knew where she wanted him to search: Sweet Apple Acres (which, not coincidentally, was the only region that had yet to have a search party assigned). What made the matter somewhat more complicated were the other two ponies.

“I just can’t understand why those three would do something like this in the first place. I specifically told them that there were humans in the fog.”

“Well, isn’t it obvious? As sweet, uncorrupted foals, they naturally sensed that there was something majestic about these creatures that compelled them to try and meet one.”

“I’m just going to assume that by ‘uncorrupted,’ you mean ‘painfully idealistic.’ Besides, I’ll have you know that I made sure to outline the dangers posed to ponykind by those bipedal monstrosities.”

“Well, that just proves that they were able to see right through your baseless propaganda!”

It was rather difficult to figure out whether to assign Lyra or Bon-Bon to accompany Big Mac, mostly because of their “interest” in mythological creatures. In retrospect, Applejack probably should have given them an assignment first, so that she would have been left with more reasonable ponies at the end. It wasn’t that Applejack thought that whoever went off to Sweet Apple Acres would prevent Big Macintosh from making an effective search. On the contrary, it was the pony who would have to stay behind that worried her.

“Baseless propaganda?! Lyra, three fillies are lost in this stupid fog of theirs, probably freezing to death, and you think I’m the one who’s baseless?”

“That doesn’t mean anything. They must have been mistaken about how ponies react to cold temperatures.”

“Oh, give me a break. If they’re smart enough to control the weather without magic, they’re smart enough to know about hypothermia.”

“Maybe they just think our natural coats were a lot warmer. They wouldn’t know, since they don’t have any of their own, now would they? Bon-Bon, the humans need our empathy.”

“No, they need to have their kneecaps shattered to set an example.”

Simply put, the odds were fairly good that the odd pony out would go off in search of humans, whether to deliver bear hugs or bear traps. Up until now, of course, they’d been fairly reliable, mostly because each was keen to rein in the other’s more excessive tendencies, but leaving either of them to their own devices seemed quite risky. Sure, there was the option of having the remaining pony stick close to her so they could serve as an “assistant,” but Applejack was in no mood to foalsit a full-grown mare. No, that ain’t right, Applejack silently rebuked herself. These are adults here, and this is an emergency. Surely I can trust them to be responsible without supervision.

“I know! We should go out and find the humans.”

“To pummel them with rocks?”

“No, you bigoted weirdo; we ought to recruit them! They can use their science to find the foals. Plus, once they realize that we aren’t a threat to them, I bet they’ll be more than happy to science this fog away, and then we can finally have that picnic! I can’t wait for them to try my grandmother’s coleslaw recipe.”

“Have you completely lost your mind? If they even have pony-locating science, then they’re probably using it to look for potential hostages in the fog.... Sweet Celestia, that’s what happened to them! Those dastardly excuses for sasquatches foalnapped those fillies. That settles it: we need to find those jerks and beat them into submission.”

Upon hearing this latest exchange, Applejack groaned aloud and beckoned her brother to come closer while the two mares continued their bickering. “Listen, Big Mac, I don’t really wanna risk the chance that one of these two will go off and do somethin’ stupid if she’s left by her lonesome. Do ya think you can keep those two in line if I send both of them with you ta search the orchard?”

Macintosh didn’t answer right away. He spent a few seconds looking at Lyra and Bon-Bon warily before he let out a sigh and gave his answer: “Eeyup.”

September 2 – 1:22 PM

Big Macintosh did not like being angry. Granted, part of this was due to the fact that, like most negative emotions, feelings of outrage were almost always unpleasant experiences. But there was something about anger that was different from the other “bad” feelings like jealousy or despair; as noxious as those emotions were, their bile was mostly directed inward, which in Macintosh’s experience made them easier to harness. This was important, because the more control he had over his emotions, the easier it was to protect those around him from them. Before they could hurt his friends and family, they had to drill their way through the considerable barrier of self-control that Macintosh had carefully built over the years.

But anger was different, somehow. Anger seemed to be directed outwards as often as inwards, which made it much more difficult to keep it reined in. Indeed, Big Macintosh still felt a little guilty about how he’d snapped at Apple Bloom and her friends after the Gabby Gums incident. The muscular stallion idly shook his head to clear away those memories. The Crusaders were in enough trouble as it was without bringing past misdeeds into the picture—and besides, Apple Bloom wasn’t the only sister whose actions had irked him today.

Even though it seemed quite likely that Apple Bloom had behaved far more irresponsibly than she usually did, at the moment, Macintosh was finding it difficult to ignore Applejack’s decision to foist the founding members of SPHERE on him just so she could avoid dealing with them herself. Familiar though he was with every tree in the orchard, navigating his way through the fog was much harder when he had to focus so much energy on ignoring the two mares’ rather impassioned debate concerning their favorite sociopolitical issue.

“Look, what evidence do you actually have that the humans will be evil, anyway?”

Bon-Bon scoffed at Lyra’s rhetorically loaded question. “None, obviously, but that’s just as much evidence as you have that they won’t be.”

“But it’s better to give strangers the benefit of the doubt, isn’t it?”

“Ha! That’s rich coming from somepony who thought Zecora was going to steal her soul if she made eye contact with her.”

Lyra groaned as Bon-Bon brought up one of her more embarrassing personal failures, but she soon recovered. “Well, I was wrong, wasn’t I? Maybe you’re wrong about the humans.”

“At least I don’t need to worry about putting innocent ponies in danger if I’m wrong!”

“You will if they decide to change their minds about ponykind based on something stupid and thoughtless, like unwarranted blunt force trauma!”

Macintosh rolled his eyes as he turned around and spoke up. “Would y’all mind stayin’ focused? We’re s’posed ta be searchin’ right now. Y’all can worry about humans a bit later.”

At this, the two mares stopped dead in their tracks and stared at him with their jaws agape. “Are you out of your mind?” Lyra asked in shock. “The first contact between humans and ponies is going to be one of the most momentous events in the history of Equestria,” she said.

“And there’s every reason to think it might happen before the day is over,” Bon-Bon added. “The first impression that the humans have of us could have effects that last for years—decades, even!”

Macintosh sighed and rubbed his forehead before answering. “I get what you’re sayin’, but can’t it wait until my sister and her friends are safe?”

“But what if we find a human out here?” Lyra asked.

“We’ll cross that bridge if we get to it,” Macintosh replied. “But ’til then, can we please just stick to searchin’?”

Very reluctantly, both mares nodded their heads.

Macintosh smiled as he inhaled deeply, ready to holler out the Crusader’s names.

“I must admit, I’m kind of surprised that you care about the impression the humans will have of us,” Lyra said offhandedly to Bon-Bon.

“Of course I care,” Bon-Bon replied. “We can’t let them leave thinking we’re spineless pushovers, which is why a show of force is the only sensible approach.”

“There is nothing sensible about attacking them without provocation!” Lyra insisted.

“Oh, for Celestia’s sake, how many times does our community need to be assaulted before you admit that we’ve been provoked?!” Bon-Bon shouted back.

Macintosh’s incipient holler deflated through his pursed lips as his companions resumed their bickering. He stared out into the fog, wondering where his sister was and wishing that the two of them would do something constructive, because it was obvious that their pointless arguments weren’t going to help anypony.

September 2 – 1:25 PM

An additional twenty minutes of trudging through the fog hadn’t done much to improve Sweetie Belle’s mood. The fog was as thick as ever, the few trees she could see weren’t thinning out, and the gravel beneath her hooves appeared no different from from what had been there every other time she looked down to stare at the only thing close enough to be recognizable. Nothing, it seemed, had changed at all, and it was at this point that the worst possible thoughts entered her mind: What if I only imagined that bell? What if I mistook the direction I heard it coming from? What if I’ve actually been heading further from help this whole time? What if I let my friends down? What if they don’t survive? What if it’s my fault for not convincing them to stay at the party? What if...

What if I don’t last long enough to take the blame? That scenario, dreadful though it was to consider, seemed more and more likely. Sweetie Belle could no longer ignore her shivers, yet the fog had made her coat and mane so damp that it felt like she’d been sweating for hours. The numbness in her hooves now seemed to be creeping further up her legs, and the thought that her friends were likely in a similar state continued to weigh on her mind, crushing what little hope she had left. We’ve been acting like idiots this whole time. Why did we ever let this get so out of control?

“You know what? You’re just a racist!”

That’s one explanation, I guess. Maybe if we weren’t racists—wait, what? Sweetie Belle stopped in her tracks and blinked several times. She was almost certain that she’d heard a voice—and a pony voice at that. But by this point, rescue seemed almost too good to be true. Part of her didn’t want to believe that somepony was nearby in the fog, if only so she wouldn’t be disappointed to learn that the voice had only been in her head. On the other hoof, though, if a voice in her head was going to insult her, why wouldn’t it pick an insult that actually made sense?

“Oh yeah?! Well, you’re a... a... a big bedwetting doody head!”

There was no question this time: that second voice wasn’t in Sweetie Belle’s head. In fact, she was pretty sure it belonged to the candymaker who had inspired all this insanity in the first place, but that was neither here nor there. Somehow, miraculously, the unicorn filly had found exactly what she was looking for, and she wasn’t about to let it go to waste.

Sweetie Belle took in a deep breath and let out the loudest shout she could manage as she galloped blindly through the mist towards the argument.

September 2 – 1:39 PM

It hadn’t taken Big Macintosh very long to realize that Sweetie Belle didn’t have the foggiest idea where the other two Crusaders were; “in a ditch somewhere in the orchard” didn’t exactly narrow down the potential locations very much. Thus, he, Lyra, and Bon-Bon returned her to Ponyville as swiftly as they could. Once she was safe and warm inside the library, Sweetie Belle made a full confession—much to the chagrin of Bon-Bon, who was only now learning that the Cutie Mark Crusaders often had difficulty distinguishing between “warnings” and “suggestions.” Big Macintosh then led Bon-Bon and a rather smug Lyra out to the clock tower to sound the bell so the safety patrol could regroup and await their next set of instructions.

With Rarity tending to her sister and Pinkie Pie still running the bunker party, this left Fluttershy with only three of her advisors to assist her as she began working out a new plan. Applejack started by proposing the most obvious solution: “We’ll just have to work through Sweet Apple Acres all systematic-like. I’ll round up as many safety patrol volunteers as I can spare and line ’em up on one end of the Orchard, and we’ll just walk straight through an’ look for the Crusaders.”

Fluttershy sighed. “That’s probably a good plan, but I’m not sure we have enough time. If Sweetie Belle is correct, Apple Bloom and Scootaloo have been in the fog for nearly two hours now.”

“Yeah, and they’re not just lost,” Rainbow Dash added as she flitted nervously around the library, occasionally checking her fog suit to make sure it was still snug on her body. “They’re also hiding from Bon-Bon’s human things, which is gonna make it even harder to find them in time.”

“Thanks for the optimism,” Applejack replied testily.

“There’s no need to get angry,” Fluttershy said as calmly as possible. “Your idea is a good one, and I think you should go through with it. I just don’t think it should be the only thing we’re doing, that’s all.”

This seemed to satisfy Applejack, who nodded grimly. “In that case, y’all mind if I head out an’ get that started?”

Fluttershy agreed, and soon, the remaining ponies in the library heard another series of peals from the clock tower bell.

“Okay,” Twilight said. “If that’s plan ‘B,’ what are we going to do for a plan ‘A’?”

“I don’t know,” Rainbow Dash said as she landed on the floor. “It’s not like we can contact the Department of Weather and ask them for more north winds to push the fog faster. Well, I suppose technically we could, but that would take even longer than AJ’s idea.”

“Well, what if some pegasi do a series of low flyovers, right over the surface of the fog, and call out to them? If they call back, we’ll know exactly where they are,” Twilight Sparkle suggested after a few seconds of silent thinking.

“Eh, I’m not to sure about that, either,” Rainbow Dash said. “We don’t know for sure that they’re even conscious, and again, if they’re all spooked about humans, they might be too scared to raise their voices to answer us. Besides that, how on earth is a pegasus supposed to keep track of where he or she has searched? I mean, I know the fog itself is a light grey,” she said as she gestured towards one of the library’s windows, “but with visibility that low, it might as well be the middle of the night.”

“You’ve got a point there,” Fluttershy said, sounding as though she was musing to herself rather than making a direct response to Rainbow Dash’s observation. “Ponies may not be literally blind while in the fog, but it’s so hard to see that it’s like trying to find your way around in the dark.” Fluttershy’s ears suddenly perked up as her eyes slid back into focus. “Of course...”

“Do you have an idea, Fluttershy?” Twilight asked.

“I think so...” Fluttershy replied. “I mean, it would take care of the biggest problem, but there’s still the matter of getting in touch....”

“Uh, Fluttershy?” Rainbow Dash said as she tried to follow her friend’s train of thought. “You wanna elaborate?”

Fluttershy, however, directed her next statement towards Twilight. “Is Owlowiscious here at the library today?”

“Um, yeah,” Twilight said. “The last I saw him, he was sleeping on his perch in the kitchen.”

“I need to speak with him,” Fluttershy said firmly. Without waiting for a response, she swiftly walked over to the kitchen door and stepped inside.

September 2 – 2:01 PM

Apple Bloom had known that her situation was bad, but somehow, it seemed that she had managed to underestimate how much worse it could get. It wasn’t just the damp, numbing cold that was slowly but surely causing her body to shut down, nor was it the increasingly violent shivers from the pegasus she was shielding from the fog’s internal chaos. In the last few minutes, it had become clear that the temperatures were affecting Scootaloo’s mind as much as her body; her shivers were occasionally broken by active struggles against Apple Bloom. The pegasus filly kept trying to push her friend off of her, claiming that she was far too warm and needed to cool off, all while her teeth chattered noisily in the stinging chill. Apple Bloom’s feeble attempts to use reason to keep Scootaloo calm failed abysmally, and in the end she just had to rely on her earth pony strength to keep her friend pinned to the ground, where she was safer.

As if anypony could be safe in a fog like this, Apple Bloom thought bitterly as she listened for any sign of imminent rescue—or attack. She hadn’t yet heard anything that indicated that any humans were nearby, but surely they had to be somewhere in the mist. However, by this point, Apple Bloom was seriously wondering whether it might not be better for humans to find them. As far as she could tell, the worst thing they could do was put the two of them out of their misery faster than the fog might.

Even when Scootaloo’s ravings subsided, Apple Bloom’s worries didn’t, because the pegasus’ ramblings were not replaced with more reasoned discourse, but merely faded into unresponsive silence, punctuated only with occasional shuddering as the cold air continued its assault on the fillies. “C’mon, Scootaloo,” she said, gently shaking her friend in an effort to keep her from drifting off. “You gotta stay with me. I... I don’t think I can last if I’m the only one.” Fortunately, the pleading tone in her voice was enough to elicit a moan from Scootaloo, which Apple Bloom concluded was better than nothing. Somethin’s gotta happen soon, she thought to herself. Anythin’ is better than just waitin’ until both of us... pass out. It just can’t get worse, can it?

It was around this point that Apple Bloom noticed that the fog was considerably less silent than it had been before. She had no memory of the noise beginning, but as soon as she recognized the sounds as something out of the ordinary, it seemed as though it had been growing in the background for some time. At first, it sounded like a heavily muffled rattlesnake, but within minutes, the noise had grown far too loud for even a dozen rattlers. Aside from the volume, the rattle was accompanied by a cacophony of clicks and clacks that eventually started blending into a noisy din. Soon, the sounds were not merely somewhere off in the distance, but seemed to be surrounding the two ponies on all sides, including directly above them.

Once or twice, Apple Bloom thought she felt a rush of air, as though something had swooped towards her head. Nervously, she pressed Scootaloo against the ground as she squeezed her eyes shut. That ain’t fair! I didn’t even say it out loud! Just because she hadn’t thought the situation could get worse, that didn’t mean that Fate had to prove her wrong.

The situation had indeed worsened: something so bizarre and alien as this blanket of noise could only be the work of the humans, and Apple Bloom was now quite certain that they would have no reason to take pity on a pair of wayward fillies.

September 2 – 2:10 PM

Fluttershy nodded solemnly as she listened to the chirps of the grayish-brown bird on the windowsill. “I see... well, that’s certainly welcome news, though it sounds like there might not be a lot of time to act on it. Tell the rest of the flock to keep circling the area until some pegasi arrive wearing shiny suits like mine.”

The tiny bird let out an affirmative tweet and took off into the fog, making assorted clicks and rattles with its voice to help it avoid obstacles as it traveled through the murk.

“Good news?” Rainbow Dash asked hopefully.

“Oh, absolutely,” Fluttershy said with a slight smile. “The swiftlets have found Apple Bloom and Scootaloo. The trouble is that it seems that Sweetie Belle wasn’t exaggerating when she told us they were in really bad shape; if anything, she understated the problem.” Fluttershy then turned to Twilight and asked, “Um, you wouldn’t happen to have any bobby pins I can borrow, would you?”

Twilight seemed a bit confused by the request, but still, she answered, “Not really, though I do have a few scrunchies for when I need to keep my mane out of my eyes when I’m doing lab work. Will that do?”

“I think so,” Fluttershy replied.

As Twilight descended to her basement to locate the requested accessory, Rainbow Dash continued the conversation. “So, just out of curiosity, why did you have Owlowiscious get in touch with these birds? I thought for sure you were going to ask him to find a bunch of bats. I mean, he’s an owl. I’m sure he knows some.”

“Oh, he does, but the main reason I wanted his help was because he can fly through fog without too much trouble, not because he’s usually awake at night.”

“Okay... but still, why not bats? I mean, don’t they use screechy noises to see in the dark?”

Fluttershy nodded. “It’s true that they use a very sophisticated form of echolocation, but the thing is that it’s so sensitive that fog renders it much less effective. Cave swiftlets, on the other hoof, don’t mind fog nearly as much. Also, they’re diurnal.”

Rainbow Dash scratched her head. “Huh?”

“That means they’re active during the day, so they’re not as grumpy at this hour as a colony of bats would be.”

“But... if they’re awake during the day, why do they need to use echoes to see where they’re going?”

“Because they build their nests in dark caves. Granted, their form of echolocation is somewhat less sophisticated than the kind bats use, so a few of them had to swoop in close to them just to make sure, but they’re almost certain that they’ve found two small ponies. Right now, most of the flock is circling the general area above the fog.”

Rainbow Dash grinned. “Awesome. Don’t you worry about a thing, Fluttershy. Me and Thunderlane are gonna get those two back before you know it.”

Fluttershy, however, shook her head. “That’s not quite what I had in mind, actually. You see, even when you get to the swiftlets, you’ll still need to find the Crusaders in the fog.”

Rainbow Dash seemed perplexed. “Oh, yeah... so, what, you’ve got a plan to manage that?”

Before Fluttershy could answer, Twilight returned from from the basement with a scrunchie suspended in her magical aura. “Here you are, Fluttershy. Will this be alright?”

“Yes, I think so,” Fluttershy replied as she whipped her mane into a tight ponytail and deftly put on the scrunchie to hold it in place.

“Fluttershy? Your plan?” Rainbow Dash asked as Fluttershy started unknotting her cravat.

“Oh, um, right,” Fluttershy replied as she carefully laid the neckwear on a nearby table. “Well, in order to find the Crusaders in time, the swiftlets will need to guide you to them. And since neither you nor Thunderlane can talk to birds...” She trailed off as she pulled the silver hood of the fog suit over her head and stuffed a stray lock of hair beneath it.

Rainbow Dash looked stunned. “Flutters, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Fluttershy nodded as she strapped a pair of flight goggles over her eyes. “I’m taking the lead on this one personally.”

September 2 – 2:17 PM

The cold had been bad. The clicks, scrapes, and rattles of whatever contraptions the humans were using in their invasion of Equestria were worse. But the worst of all was yet to come—though given that Scootaloo had gone completely silent, and seemed to be struggling to even keep her eyelids open a crack, Apple Bloom fully expected the worst to arrive at any moment, and it was this that terrified her more than anything else.

“C’mon, Scoots... please... you just gotta stay with me. I... I don’t think I can face it alone....”

“It,” of course, was the end. It wasn’t really death itself that frightened Apple Bloom; she’d fully understood and accepted its inevitability from a young age, ever since she’d first asked Granny Smith why the other foals had mommies and daddies but not her. But she’d always thought of death as something that either happened in the blink of an eye, like when a stallion was mauled by a timberwolf while protecting his wife and children, or at the end of a long sickness, lying in a warm bed and surrounded by friends and family. But this? There was no speed to be found here, nor was there any certainty—the end might come from the numbing cold, or the fanatical zeal of a human, or perhaps something even worse that her mind, half-delirious from the cold, could not conceive. And if Apple Bloom lost Scootaloo, she wouldn’t even have anypony else to enable a last resurgence of bravery, to face the end with some measure of dignity.

The tears that streamed down Apple Bloom’s cheeks were not those of sadness and regret, but fear of the unknown and shame for wanting to leave before Scootaloo. After all, if she died first, then the pegasus would be the one who had to be alone.

That was when she heard a voice—no, two voices—cutting through the rattling din surrounding her. Apple Bloom couldn’t quite make out what they were saying over the noise, but one was definitely male, while the other was female. The voices grew louder, growing more and more distinct, until finally the male voice called out something unmistakable: “Apple Bloom!”

It had been a long time since Apple Bloom had heard her father’s voice; in fact, she barely remembered what it sounded like. She did, however, distinctly remember that the sound had always made her feel safe when she was frightened. And now that she thought about it, it did seem like the female voice sounded a little bit like Applejack’s....

Apple Bloom froze indecisively for several seconds. Part of her—most of her, actually—wanted to respond, if only so she could see her parents again, but at the same time she couldn’t bear the thought that she might be wrong. What if her mind was just playing tricks on her? Or worse, what if this was some cunning human trap?

However, before Apple Bloom could arrive at any resolution, the female voice now coalesced into something intelligible: “Scootaloo!”

It took Apple Bloom another second to realize that the voice sounded nothing like her memories of her mother—and why would her mother be calling out for Scootaloo when the two of them had never even met? In fact, the voice’s slightly raspy timber reminded her more of—

“Rainbow Dash!” Scootaloo shouted at the top of her lungs as her eyes flew open.

This was enough to snap Apple Bloom back into action. “We’re over here!” she shouted in the general direction of the voices.

The clicks and rattles died down a bit, and soon Apple Bloom could make out the comforting sound of hoofbeats on soil. She was momentarily panicked by the silver figure that emerged from the gloom, which bore no resemblance whatsoever to Rainbow Dash, but that panic dissipated as soon as the silver pony lifted her goggles and spoke out loud: “Are you girls okay?”

It wasn’t Rainbow Dash... it was Fluttershy. The gentle pegasus immediately embraced the pair in one of the warmest hugs Apple Bloom had ever felt, both emotionally and in terms of body temperature. “Oh, goodness, you two are cold. Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be alright.” She quickly pulled a blanket from out of her saddlebag and wrapped the two fillies inside of it before turning around and calling into the fog: “Rainbow! Thunderlane! I’ve found them!”

The next few minutes blurred together; before Apple Bloom knew it, she’d been wrapped in another blanket and tied to the stallion who’d accompanied Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash with a length of rope, and was soon dangling beneath him. It felt like being carried in an unusually cramped hammock, and it wasn’t long before Apple Bloom poked her head out of the top to look around her.

As Celestia’s sun beat down upon her face, Apple Bloom smiled broadly. She’d completely forgotten that it had been a warm day before the fog rolled in. Nearby, she could see Rainbow Dash transporting Scootaloo in a similar fashion. The fog slid beneath them, though it was a brilliant white now that they were above it. To the east, a great column of white rose over the Everfree forest, expanding outwards like a great vertical fan as the sun’s heat warmed and evaporated the newly reborn clouds, the whiteness gradually blending into the bold, bright blue of the cloudless sky. And to the northwest, the peaks of the Unicorn Range jutted out of the last vestiges of the fog, free to once again bask in the late-summer sunlight.

September 2 – 5:41 PM

Hard Hitter was not the most popular reporter on the staff of the Cloudsdale Eye. Most of his coworkers saw him as an arrogant jerk who thought far too highly of himself. It was widely believed that he cared more about his own reputation than about reporting the most important news to the paper’s readership. Hard Hitter was well aware of these opinions, and he didn’t care. He wouldn’t even argue that his primary goal was to increase his own status in journalistic circles, because he didn’t think it mattered. After all, when it’s your job to uncover and report the truth, that meant that the simplest way to increase your prestige was to do exactly that. Thus, as he strolled into the Eye’s offices and sat down at his desk with one of the most obnoxiously smug grins that had ever been plastered across his face, he was quite confident that his reputation was about to skyrocket.

“Hitter, there had better be a damned good reason why you weren’t in Ponyville today.”

The red stallion looked up from his typewriter and saw his editor, Grey Lady, glaring at him over a pair of spectacles. “Well, Boss,” he said, doing his best to appear apologetic, “I’ve been in Cloudsdale, following up on a lead I got on the first day of the fog. I’m fairly certain I explained that when I came back here yesterday.”

“You just left a message about ‘a potentially big development.’ Well, guess what? The situation’s under control now, which means there aren’t going to be any more big developments! This is easily the biggest story of the week, and you just took off on a wild goose chase!”

Hard Hitter took a deep breath. His rather vague explanations were, admittedly, a bit unprofessional, but he’d been writing for the Eye long enough to know that Grey Lady was quite forgiving when you turned in quality work, and he felt certain that this was going to be the best reporting of his career. “I was working on the biggest story of the week, but in the process I stumbled onto the biggest story of the year.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The Department of Weather certified Central Cloudsdale College’s Correspondence Course as part of its fog certification program.”

It took Grey Lady a few moments to fully process what Hard Hitter had said. “What in Tartarus... Are you serious about this, Hitter?”

“Dead serious,” the reporter replied as the aura of smugness around him grew even more palpable. “Here. I’ve taken the liberty of typing up my notes for you to read for yourself. I’d rather not waste time explaining everything at the moment.” He gave several pieces of paper to Grey Lady, each of them covered with typewritten lines.

His editor attempted to skim over the lines, but her eyes went out of focus; clearly, she had not been mentally prepared for this sort of information overload. “But... but this is Five-C you’re talking about. How could they possibly do that?”

“Well, I have a few ideas, but I don’t think I’ve found quite enough evidence to say anything with certainty, which is why I’d recommend letting me nose around a bit longer before I actually type up my article for you. For one thing, I’d like to compare this course to the ones offered at more traditional schools. That should let me know if we’re talking about plain old corruption or if it’s the certification process itself that’s screwed up.”

“Right...” Grey Lady replied, still sounding dazed. “I’m, er, going to be in my office looking this over.”

As his editor shuffled away from Hard Hitter’s cubicle, the reporter leaned back in his chair and chuckled triumphantly as visions of the Muckraker Prize danced in his head.

Epilogue

September 17 – 4:35 PM

The previous two weeks had felt like a blur to Pencil Pusher. In the aftermath of the fog, so many things happened at the Department of Weather that he hadn’t really had the time to make a return visit to Ponyville. It wasn’t until things began settling down a bit that somepony realized that Fluttershy still had to make her final report to the Department; granted, by this point many of the details were public knowledge thanks to interviews she’d granted to the press, but she still needed to deliver an “official” version for their records. Even though his schedule was busier than ever, Pencil Pusher had jumped at the chance to volunteer for this assignment. He had explained that, as he’d been working with Fluttershy since the beginning of the incident, he ought to be the pony to help her bring it to a close.

Thus, he once again found himself sitting in the tastefully decorated living room of the animal caretaker/fog specialist/Element of Kindness/former supermodel, only this time Fluttershy wasn’t distracted by worries of an imminent raid from the Equestrian Revenue Service. “Well,” she said as she considered her answer to his request, “as far as the details that haven’t been covered by the press go, I think the department will be able to get quite a bit of information out of the article Twilight and I are publishing in The Journal of Magical Theory. Just yesterday, she stopped by to let me know that it had passed the peer-review process; apparently, Celestia and Luna pulled some strings to speed things up a bit. Though, to be honest, I’m still not sure why Twilight insists on sharing the credit. I only came up with the original idea; she’s the one who analyzed all of the data and actually wrote the article.”

Pencil Pusher nodded. “I’ll make sure the Department orders a few copies for our archives. Still, an official statement from you will certainly make things go over smoothly. Don’t worry, you can just copy statements from previous reports verbatim. As long as you let us know all the important details not covered by your agreement with Caligo, it won’t be a problem.”

“Oh, okay. Um, do you need it right away?”

“Not really. If you take a few days to write it up and mail it in, there shouldn’t be a problem.” Fluttershy simply smiled in response, which gave Pencil a warm, gushy feeling from somewhere in his stomach. Her pet rabbit was still giving him the stinkeye, though. “Er, speaking of Department business, how has that nonprofit group been doing? You know, the one that was all worried about humans?” he asked her, hoping that her answer would distract him from the bunny’s baleful glare.

“Oh, right. Well, I attended one of their meetings, like I promised on the first day of the fog. It was, um... interesting. I mean, apparently these creatures are mentioned in some old folktales, so I suppose that explains where they got the idea from, but still, if creatures like them really existed, I'm pretty sure at least one of my animal friends would have heard of them.”

“Um, okay. So, I take it that they were disappointed that there weren’t any humans in the fog?”

“Well, Lyra was disappointed. She’s the one that really likes this human idea. Bon-Bon seemed relieved more than anything.”

“But at least they admit that the fog wasn’t caused by humans, right?”

“Oh, no. They’re still convinced that humans were behind it. Basically, both of them think that the humans mistook the swiftlets’ echolocation calls for some sort of defense system and were frightened away.”

Pencil Pusher’s reaction was more than a little incredulous. “‘Frightened away’? Where would these things retreat to?”

“Um, Pinkie Pie had a theory that they may exist in an alternate dimension...”

“I thought she didn’t believe in humans.”

“I’m pretty sure that she doesn’t, but she also says that if they do exist, they won’t stop existing just because she doesn’t believe in them.”

“Uh-huh... and what do you think of this alternate dimension idea?”

“Well, to be honest, it seems a bit farfetched to me, especially the part about human versions of ponies.”

Pencil Pusher nodded uncertainly and decided to change the subject. “Right.... by the way, whatever happened to those fillies who left Pinkie’s party? I mean, I heard they were safe, but I had to head back to Cloudsdale before I could learn anything else.”

“Oh, well, the Crusaders were in quite a bit of trouble. As I understand it, their families consider their experience in the fog to be ample punishment in itself for their escape from the party, but the fact that they attempted to misuse medications to make their escape is another matter entirely. All three of them were grounded for a month, and it probably would have been much longer if Derpy hadn’t decided to intervene on their behalf.”

Pencil Pusher found this to be rather surprising. “Really? They gave her an overdose of ipecac and she thought their punishment was too harsh?”

“I know what you mean,” Fluttershy said before taking a sip of tea from her cup. “What’s even more surprising is that the Crusaders hadn’t asked her to help them. I suppose Derpy’s just a very forgiving pony.”

Pencil Pusher chuckled. “Well, we could probably use a few forgiving ponies in the DOW these days.”

“Hmm? Oh, right, that scandal. Hard Hitter asked me about that when he interviewed me. He seemed unusually happy when I told him that I didn’t really learn anything from the course Five-C sent me. I’m not sure why, though. I would think that most ponies would rather learn about fog from a course instead of having to teach themselves everything about it.”

Pencil Pusher wasn’t particularly eager to speculate on the inner workings of a reporter’s head, either, so he forged ahead with the aspects of the scandal that had directly affected him. “Well, it’s caused a bit of a shake-up back in Cloudsdale. Basically, the head of Personnel ended up taking most of the blame—not because she’s personally corrupt, but because everything happened on her watch. She was getting close to retirement anyway, so the higher-ups convinced her to resign with a full pension so the heat would die down.”

“But aren’t they going to fix the problem?”

“Well, that’s why they’ve put somepony else in her place. Namely, my boss—or rather, my former boss.” Pencil Pusher couldn’t resist a smile as he once again contemplated the fact that he was no longer dealing with Greg on a daily basis. Sure, there were some ponies in Requisitions who were quietly expressing shock and resentment over the fact that their idiot boss had somehow managed to cajole his way into a bigger office with a higher paycheck and more prestige, but Pencil Pusher knew better. Convinced as he was that he was the primary reason for his department’s success, Greg hadn’t requested that any of his subordinates be transferred with him. However, he had since learned to his dismay that it wasn’t the regular practice of division heads to push all of their duties off on others, and he hadn’t been in his position long enough to figure out who could be bullied into taking on the tasks that Synergy had willingly completed on her own. Faced with the horrifying prospect of actually having to do his job, Greg had made a desperate attempt to have “Pizza Party” transferred to Personnel... but by that point, it was too late.

“Oh?” Fluttershy said, raising her eyebrows in interest. “So, you have a new boss, then.”

“In a manner of speaking,” Pencil Pusher replied. “Thanks to my performance during the fog response, I’m the new head of the Requisitions Division, so my new boss is my old boss’ boss.” The bureaucrat tried to say this as humbly as possible, having been informed by Rarity and Rainbow Dash that Fluttershy was not interested in braggarts, but he couldn’t quite conceal all of his pride. “Apparently, volunteering to be your liaison was the best career move I’ve ever made.”

“Well,” Fluttershy said as she set down her now-empty teacup, “I really enjoyed working with you. I wouldn’t mind keeping in touch.”

This was it. He’d spent a lot of time mentally preparing for this moment, but the time had come for Pencil Pusher to make his offer. “Well, how about we meet for something a bit more informal? Maybe dinner this weekend?” Crap! I botched it. That was the worst possible way to ask anypony out on a date. I had all the possible approaches in the world, and I went with the boring cliché.

Fluttershy, however, didn’t seem to find the ordinariness to be all that off-putting, though she did look noticeably flustered. “Um... are... are you asking me out?”

“Well, yeah, I guess so. I mean, if you’re interested.”

Fluttershy, however, looked rather uncertain about the situation. “But... isn’t a three-hour flight a long distance for a date?”

“Not really,” Pencil Pusher said. “I mean, after all the flying I did as your liaison, I’m sort of used to the commute. It’s really not that bad when you aren’t in a hurry.”

“Oh,” Fluttershy said, breaking off eye contact as she stared nervously at the corners of the room. “But... are you really sure I’m the pony you should be asking?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, when you think about what you want in a special somepony, wouldn’t you rather have a confident, successful mare? You know, the kind who obviously knows what she wants and is willing to do what’s necessary to get it?”

Pencil Pusher wasn’t expecting a question like this, but something in the back of his mind told him that this wasn’t just a polite rejection. There was a bit too much self-effacement in Fluttershy’s tone for a typical “let’s just be friends” response. After taking a second or two to decide on a reply, he answered her with a touch more confidence in his voice than he actually felt. “Well, yeah. That’s why I’m asking you.” Fluttershy’s eyes widened when he said this, which Pencil took as a cue to restate his offer. “So, are you interested in dinner sometime this weekend?”

At first, Fluttershy was silent, staring at her hooves and allowing the ticking of the clock on her wall to fill her living room as Pencil Pusher did his best to avoid looking nervous. Then, after interminable seconds that felt like hours, she looked him in the eye, smiled sweetly, and with a slight blush in her cheeks, she replied, “Sure.”

Author's Note

I know that a few of my readers weren't expecting this sort of ending, based on my decision not to give this story a Romance tag. However, the reason I chose to forego the label is because the story ends before Fluttershy and Pencil Pusher actually go out on their date; thus, within the time frame of the story, there hasn't been any opportunity for romance to develop.

Thanks once again to the many prereaders who have given me valuable feedback as I wrote this story over the past two years. I'd list them all here, but I'm worried I'll forget someone.

In addition to all my fan fiction, I've also got an original short story. It's called "The Empty Hand," it features cosmic horror in the Boston underworld, and it's currently available in eBook form on Amazon:

Amazon.com
Amazon.ca
Amazon.co.uk

For anyone who would rather support me for my pony-related content, I also have a Patreon.

August 30 – 10:41 PM

Flywheel stifled a yawn as she stared at the myriad gauges in front of her. Hers was not the most glamorous job around, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t important (according to her supervisor, anyway). Like most blue-collar pegasi, she would have preferred to work in the Cloudsdale Weather Factory; everypony knew about the Weather Factory, even unicorns and earth ponies, and nopony who worked there doubted that their efforts would ultimately matter to Equestria as a whole. The jobs weren’t always easy, but the ponies who held them had a good deal of pride in their work—which was probably why there was so much competition for the few job openings available, much to Flywheel’s dismay.

On the other hoof, while the primary facility of Caligo Manufacturing, Inc. obviously wasn’t the most well-known factory in Cloudsdale, it was still one of the most profitable, which meant that the pay and benefits were acceptable enough for the company to avoid labor disputes most of the time. Similarly, Storage was hardly the most obnoxious part of the factory to work in, far away the churning and chugging of cams and cranks in Production and Secondary, which were muffled by thick cloud walls and replaced with the hissing of pneumatic pistons and the whirring of fan blades delivering the finished product to holding tanks until they could be sent on to Shipping. Just as notably, this room was almost always kept clean, almost to the point of sterility; Flywheel had gotten so used to the smell of pine-scented cleaner that by the end of her shifts, normal, fresh air seemed exotic by comparison.

However, the fact that the job wasn’t unpleasant didn’t mean that it was enjoyable. Quite the contrary, where other workers had to deal with the Quality Assurance department constantly watching them over their shoulders, Flywheel had often found herself spending hours on end with nopony else to talk to, since only one pony was needed to monitor the situation. This meant that her job was unspeakably dull, but that, as she’d recently discovered, was only a best-case scenario.

Staying alert while working at a boring, repetitive job is difficult under even the best circumstances, but she’d come to realize that doing so during the night shift when one was accompanied by little more than the steady drone of industrial machinery compounded that problem. At least the magically-enhanced fireflies kept the room brightly lit, though their flickering sometimes gave her a headache, and the lack of machinery meant that the room rarely became overheated. In fact, maintaining a constant temperature was part of her job, along with about a dozen other things.

“Long night?”

The technician looked up from her control panel and saw the all-too familiar sight of the night janitor’s smirk. “You’re as sharp as ever, Sweeps.” The beige pegasus hadn’t intended to come off as a snarky curmudgeon, but her allegedly temporary switch to the second shift (now in its third consecutive week) coupled with mandatory overtime was starting to fray her nerves a bit.

Fortunately, Clean Sweep had been working at Caligo long enough to know an overworked pony when he saw one, and he let it slide. “Management’s been putting you folks through your paces, then?”

“You have no idea,” the mare responded, carefully adjusting a series of knobs on her panel. “Las Pegasus just had to have another construction boom right after our Coltorado Springs facility was shut down for renovation, which means everything has to come from Cloudsdale.”

Clean Sweep nodded sympathetically as he trotted over to the nearest wastebasket. This hadn’t been the first time he’d heard the details of the company’s current situation, but he’d found that listening to ponies explain their problems usually helped them let off some steam. “Well, they’d be nuts to tell them no. You know, free-market competition and all that.” Caligo Manufacturing had been Equestria’s top producer of construction-grade cloud products for decades, but it seemed like there was always some upstart company waiting for them to slip up so they could pounce on their market share. The deep blue stallion emptied the basket’s contents into a trash bag and pulled a broom and dustpan from his cart. “Stuff like this happens all the time. Not much point in getting worked up over it.”

“There is in this case.” The mare idly gestured towards several large holding tanks as she explained: “This is a new formula. It’s a lot denser than normal.”

“Why’s that important?”

“Las Pegasus is over a desert. Denser construction material doesn’t lose its humidity as easily in an arid climate, which means they don’t have to replace it as often. Less time renovating means more time for tourists to gamble their hard-earned bits away.”

This bit of information was actually new to Clean Sweep; he hadn’t bothered to speculate why their bosses hadn’t just shipped out regular clouds from the company’s inventory. “Makes as much sense as anything, I guess,” he said as he swept up dust from the cloud floor.

“Yeah, well, it also makes my job more annoying, because the order is so large that Production is going pretty much non-stop, which means there aren’t any lulls where I move around and stretch outside of break times.” Flywheel punctuated this statement with a massive yawn.

“Anything I can do to help? Want me to get you some coffee?” Clean Sweep asked.

“Nah. I’ve always been really fussy about how I take it. It’s easier to just wait until break to refill my cup. Although...”

“Yeah?”

“There is something you can do for me.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“Well, quite frankly, I really have to go to the little fillies’ room—”

“Whoa! Hold up there. I don’t know anything about how these contraptions work; I just clean ’em.”

The mare sighed. “Look, I’m not asking you to take over for the rest of my shift. I just need somepony to watch this to make sure nothing crazy happens, that’s all. It’s really simple: if this meter reaches the red zone,” she said, gesturing to a large gauge at the top of the console, “you hit the big, blue shutdown button, and let me deal with whatever happens next.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. Anything else can wait until I get back.”

“Well... okay. Don’t take too long, though. I don’t want to get in trouble.”

“I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

August 30 – 10:50 PM

At first, everything seemed to be working alright. A few lights on the console turned on and started glowing, but as the needle in the gauge was nowhere near the dreaded red zone, Clean Sweep ignored them. It was only when the lights started flashing and being accompanied by buzzing noises that he started to think something was wrong, but according to the big, super-important gauge, there was no reason to panic just yet.

Nevertheless, the janitor began to get extremely nervous as the buzzes grew into a cacophony of noise. He glanced at a clock on the wall. It had been five minutes since Flywheel had left. He may not have had any idea how the console in front of him worked, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that something was wrong. He considered just hitting the blue button just to be safe, but the mare had said she’d be able to fix things, hadn’t she?

By the time the pipes overhead started rumbling and shuddering, however, Clean Sweep was positive that he was in over his head, no matter what the needle in the gauge said. Really, the only question was whether to hit the big button, or gallop as fast as he could to the mare’s room and get Flywheel. He had just committed himself to the latter option when the door to the storage room swung open. “What the hay’s going on here?” The technician, having returned from her unscheduled break, cantered over to the console and pressed the blue button, which did nothing to stop the incessant buzzing. “You were supposed to hit the shutdown button if the gauge reached the red zone.”

“It didn’t! In fact, it still hasn’t!”

“What?” Flywheel looked at the gauge, and sure enough, the needle was still hovering in allegedly safe territory. “Crap! I completely forgot! The denser formula means that the holding tanks fill up faster, which means the ceiling on the intake rate is lower than normal!”

“What?!”

“The tanks are filling up too fast!”

“Huh? But you shut it down.”

“I shut down production, but there’s still finished product being transferred here!” Flywheel shouted as she desperately twiddled knobs and flicked switches.

“So what do we do?”

The janitor was answered by a series of ominous creaks from the tanks. Flywheel’s eyes widened. “Hit the alarm. And run!”

They had almost made it through the door when a tremendous blast sounded behind them, and when Clean Sweep turned his head to see what had happened, everything went white.

August 31 – 3:07 AM

Pencil Pusher was sweating as he landed a short distance from the darkened cottage. This sort of task hadn’t been in the job description when he was hired: normally, he spent most of his time sitting at a desk and processing stacks of forms (which, in turn, explained why so few ponies believed him when he claimed the thin, crimson rectangle he had for a cutie mark wasn’t supposed to represent a piece of red tape). He was unaccustomed to significant physical exertion, particularly at a time of night when he was usually fast asleep. Indeed, the only reason he was here at all was that he’d had the rotten luck to pick tonight to stay late and get through his rather substantial backlog of work. As a result, once the higher-ups at the Department of Weather decided that the best way to deal with the mess in Cloudsdale was to get outside help, he’d been the most convenient underling in the office.

The grey stallion couldn’t remember the last time his wings ached so much. In an effort to clear his head, he inhaled deeply through his nose. Almost immediately, he realized he’d made the mistake of landing downwind from a large animal pen. He shook his head repeatedly, attempting to banish the noxious odors from his olfactory system. When this failed, Pencil Pusher decided that the best course of action was to get this task finished as soon as possible. After checking his saddlebags (which, thank Celestia, still held all their contents), he cantered up the path to the front door of the cottage and knocked on the wooden door as loudly as he could.

When nothing seemed to happen, the stallion looked around to see if there was some sort of doorbell or buzzer he could use to get the occupant’s attention, but if one existed, it was impossible to find in the dark. He knocked again, this time calling out, “Hello? Is anypony home?” He certainly hoped somepony was in, as he was way too tired to fly all over Equestria in search of a wayward animal custodian.

Pencil Pusher briefly entertained the idea of bucking the door off of its hinges when a light flared in the upstairs window. Encouraged, he knocked yet again, and was answered this time by a high-pitched voice, albeit one that was too muffled by the walls to communicate effectively. However, the windows on the ground floor were soon filled with light, and the front door swung open, revealing a pale yellow pegasus wearing a lavender bathrobe. Her pink mane and tail would have no doubt flowed elegantly to the ground if she hadn’t been sleeping on them minutes earlier. “Um... can I help you?” the mare asked quietly.

“Uh, yes,” Pencil Pusher replied, suddenly remembering that ogling ponies was not part of his job description, even when their files indicated that they were former supermodels. “You wouldn’t be Fluttershy, by any chance?”

“Yes,” the pegasus answered suspiciously. “And you are...?”

“Huh? Oh, right. My name is Pencil Pusher, and I work for the Department of—”

The bureaucrat’s response was interrupted by a small white blur which darted out from underneath Fluttershy’s legs, hopped onto his back, and immediately latched onto his right wing. Pencil Pusher turned his head and saw a rabbit grunting with effort as it tugged at his carpal joint. “Er... friend of yours?”

“Oh, um, yes. That’s Angel.”

“I see. And what exactly is he trying to do?”

“Well, I’m not certain, but I think he, uh, might be trying to put you in a submission hold. You sort of spooked a lot of my friends, so I think he thought you might be a burglar.”

“What sort of burglar knocks before entering a house?”

“Um, a very polite one?”

“Okay....” The stallion trailed off, electing to ignore the mammal on his back for the time being and finish answering Fluttershy’s question. “Anyway, as I was saying, my name is Pencil Pusher. I’m a clerk at the Department of Weather, and we’re in need of your services.”

“Oh, of course,” the mare said, despite the fact that this didn’t make much sense to her. “Why don’t you come inside?” she asked, to which her guest nodded silently. “You can let him go, Angel,” she added as the two walked into her living room. The rabbit, though clearly reluctant to leave the intruder to his own devices, grudgingly obeyed his caretaker’s command, sliding off of Pencil Pusher’s back. Angel refused to return to bed however, opting instead to stand next to Fluttershy and glower as threateningly as he could at the messenger.

In all honesty, however, Fluttershy was inclined to agree with her friend’s sentiment. It was, after all, only three o’clock in the morning. “Um, okay, I understand that you want my help,” she said, “but why couldn’t it wait until sunrise? I’m not even on Ponyville’s weather team. Perhaps you should meet with Rainbow Dash—”

“Oh, I’m going to be heading to her place as soon as I’m done here. After all, she needs to know that she’ll be taking orders from you.”

“Huh? But I’m just an animal caretaker.”

“Actually, you aren’t just a caretaker; according to our files, you’re also a fully certified fog specialist.”

A wave of apprehension came over Fluttershy as the bureaucrat finished his sentence, but she somehow managed to keep her composure. “Oh, um, right. But, well, you’ll have to excuse me, but most fog-related incidents aren’t exactly worth losing sleep over. I mean, sure, they’re annoying, but it’s not normally worth making a fuss over.”

“That is undoubtedly true, but this situation isn’t exactly normal.”

Concern merged with confusion as Fluttershy raised an eyebrow in response. “What happened?”

Pencil Pusher reached into one of his saddlebags, pulled out a large, bulging envelope, and gave it to his hostess. “Everything we know at the moment is in there,” he said as she set it down on a nearby table, “but I can give you the short version. Basically, there was some sort of accident at a factory in Cloudsdale. A storage tank holding some sort of experimental cloud formula exploded, or something like that. Like I said, we’re not too sure about exactly what happened, but that’s a problem for their insurance company to deal with, not the DOW.”

“Oh, dear! Was anypony hurt?”

“Two ponies had to be taken to the hospital with serious injuries, but nopony else was hurt. Apparently, the whole factory was engineered so that the floor would be the first thing to go, so that everything would fall to the ground, instead of spreading into Cloudsdale.”

“But isn’t that, well, kind of dangerous for ponies who are actually on the ground?”

“No, because zoning laws require companies to own the ground beneath their airborne factories, so anypony walking in that area without adequate head protection is more than likely trespassing in the first place.”

“Oh. So, a whole tank’s worth of cloud is on the ground now?”

“Uh, no... you see, that tank wasn’t the only one in the room. When the floor gave out, all of them fell to the ground, and they all ruptured on impact. The long and the short of it is that there’s a massive blanket of fog on the other side of the Unicorn Range, and the prevailing north winds are pushing it in this direction. Because it’s composed of heavy-duty construction materials, it poses a serious risk to pegasi living at low altitudes. It has to be dispersed as soon as possible, and we’re putting you in charge of the effort.”

Even though her early awakening had left her thought processes somewhat fuzzy, Fluttershy was still coherent enough to be shocked when she learned of her newly-imposed responsibilities. She strained her memory as she attempted to recall all the technical details she had managed to cram into her head just prior to taking her certification exam: “Hold on... north winds mostly bring cold, dry air from the Crystal Mountains, and it’s still summer, so the ground temperature should be relatively warm, even at night. Fog doesn’t normally fare well under those conditions.”

“Like I said, this situation isn’t normal. That’s why we decided to bring in a fog specialist.”

“Oh.” That did make sense, actually. “But when I was certified, the test only covered naturally-occurring fogs and mists. This sounds like something else entirely.”

“Be that as it may, according to Department of Weather guidelines, all ground-level clouds fall under the category of ‘fog,’ regardless of their origin. As far as we’re concerned, you’re the most qualified pony for the job.”

Fluttershy’s eyes widened in mild panic. “Oh, but that can’t possibly be true. There must be somepony else with more experience available. Um, what about Dew Point?”

“She’s visiting relatives in Vanhoover.”

“Purple Haze?”

“He injured his wing, and can’t fly for long distances at the moment. Doctor’s orders.”

“Gloomy Doom and Doomy Gloom?”

“Pony pox.”

That last one, however, sounded suspiciously familiar. “Did you try throwing some cold water on them?”

Pencil Pusher sighed; the long night had nearly drained him of his usual supply of patience. “Ms. Fluttershy, it doesn’t matter if you think there are other ponies who could do this job better than you can. The Department of Weather wants you to do it, and that’s that.”

“Oh... I see.”

“Besides, according to your tax returns, you’ve been using your status as a fog specialist as justification to write off the utility bills and maintenance costs on your home for the last two years, despite the fact that your services haven’t really been required.”

Fluttershy swallowed hard. “My tax returns?”

“Yeah, we had a look at them to make sure you were still active. Wouldn’t want to fly out here only to learn that you were out of the fog business, right?”

“Um... no... of course not.” The mare tried to force out a confidently lackadaisical chuckle, but she ended up sounding like somepony who was unsuccessfully trying to hide her nervousness.

Apparently, Pencil Pusher sensed Fluttershy’s agitation. “Ah, you’ll be fine. The DOW’s giving you all the resources you’ll need to take care of this, not to mention blanket authority over just about everypony on our payroll. In fact, I bet you’re just itching to showcase the skills and knowledge you’ve learned—otherwise, the agents of the Equestrian Revenue Service might get curious, eh?” The stallion ended with what sounded like a good-natured laugh; it certainly seemed like his comment was meant to be a joke, rather than a veiled threat, but still...

“Oh, um, yeah, wouldn’t want to get them upset,” Fluttershy replied, doing her best to appear nonchalant.

“Yeah, especially now that they’re fully armed again.”

“What?!”

“Oh, didn’t you know? The ERS’s collection department consists of members of the Lunar Guard. You know, the pegasi with the bat wings? That’s where they were shuttled off to after Nightmare Moon was banished. Really aggressive types—and now that they’re also charged with protecting Luna again, a lot of them carry weapons on the job.”

“Really?” Fluttershy squeaked.

“But that’s all a moot point. After all, it’s not like the Element of Honesty would cheat on her taxes, right?”

“Um, no. No, she wouldn’t.” Fluttershy abruptly ceased talking, afraid to correct the bureaucrat by pointing out that she wielded the Element of Kindness.

“Well, in any case, I’d better get going. I still have to get in touch with that weatherpony you mentioned. Like I said, everything else you need to know should be in that packet I gave you. We’ll have representatives returning to Ponyville for your preliminary evaluation of the situation in about twelve hours. Good luck, Ms. Fluttershy.”

“Oh, uh, thank you...” Fluttershy’s reply trailed off as Pencil Pusher took flight. After spending a minute or two staring at the manila envelope on her end table and biting her lower lip, the caretaker turned to her faithful bunny rabbit and said: “Um, I think I might be in trouble, Angel.”

August 31 – 3:49 PM

Scootaloo zipped through the streets of Ponyville on her scooter, wagon in tow. The wagon’s cargo was covered by a piece of canvas, both to keep it secret from any onlookers and to keep it from bouncing out as the pegasus filly zipped over the town’s unpaved roads.

Getting a ball from the local bowling alley had been much easier than anticipated. Obviously, purchasing one was well beyond her budget of zero bits, so Scootaloo had entered the building intending to use adorability to get the owner to loan her one for a “science project.” This plan was initially unsuccessful, as it turned out she wasn’t the first schoolfilly to try to pull that one on the alley’s owner. Mr. Kingpin kept pressing her for specific information about her alleged “project,” and Scootaloo discovered to her dismay that improvising an internally consistent cover story was a lot harder than movies made it out to be, especially since he still remembered the property damage the young pegasus had caused the last time she’d gone bowling.

Luckily, an unexpected champion swept in to deflect the uncomfortably inquisitive questions away from her. This champion came in the form of a tan earth pony stallion with a long mane, a goatee, and a weird-looking leaf that was sort of shaped like one of Spike’s claws for a cutie mark. He was drinking something that looked kind of like milk, but it smelled a little bit like the brownish liquid in the barrels on Sweet Apple Acres that the crusaders were never, ever, ever supposed to drink. He apparently didn’t get very much sleep, because his eyes were bloodshot and he sounded really tired when he talked, but he had a friendly smile and didn’t ask too many questions. It turned out that he’d recently dropped his ball on a concrete floor by accident, and he’d had to buy a new one. Figuring that the ball wouldn’t go to waste if it was used for educational purposes, he gave Scootaloo his cracked ball and sent her on her way with a warning to avoid making eye contact with a creepy-looking stallion wearing a hairnet.

With her mission successfully accomplished, the plucky pegasus filly was on her way back to the clubhouse to meet up with the other Cutie Mark Crusaders. However, as she passed by the Carousel Boutique, she was distracted by a bizarre sight in the corner of her eye. Rarity had exited her shop, followed closely by a shiny, pony-shaped object that Scootaloo couldn’t easily identify. Her curiosity getting the better of her, she slowed her scooter to a halt, and, after making sure that her wagon’s precious cargo was hidden behind a bush, moved closer for some eavesdropping. The first thing she noticed was that the shiny pony had apparently dyed her tail to look like Rainbow Dash’s—an idea to save for later, perhaps. However, what really boggled Scootaloo’s mind was the conversation itself.

“Well, darling,” Rarity was saying, “we do need to make sure that it doesn’t need any further adjustments. After all, I won’t be over the mountains with you.”

The shiny pony responded with a very familiar rasp: “Oh, right. I guess I’d better give it a flight test, then.”

All the evidence pointed to the pony being Rainbow Dash, but Scootaloo wasn’t certain that she wanted to believe it. It was just so... bizarre. Her hero was completely covered in a skintight silver fabric from head to hoof, with openings for her muzzle, wings, tail, and presumably her eyes, though the last of these were obscured by a pair of flight goggles. The filly had never wondered what Rainbow Dash would look like if she ever lost all the hair in her mane, but now, she wouldn’t have to. The fabric itself, meanwhile, looked rather thick, like the wetsuits that ponies used while scuba diving.

Rainbow Dash took to the skies and made several passes around the Carousel Boutique, easily slipping through the clouds in the area as if they were nonexistent, and leaving none of them disturbed in her wake. After a minute or so, she landed again, with her usual confident smirk on her face. “Heh, I can see why Fluttershy wanted me to wear this. I mean, my personal fog suit’s pretty nice, but with this, it’s like there’s no resistance at all! Heck, it almost makes up for the fact that I look totally ridiculous.”

Rarity nodded her head sympathetically. “Oh, I agree, it’s absolutely hideous. However, the first rule of design is that form always follows function, and in this case, the function of your fog suit gave me almost no leeway in regards to the form. In fact, I probably should have covered up your tail as well.”

“No way,” Rainbow Dash replied. “It’s bad enough that I look like a reject from a pulp science fiction novel, but with my cutie mark covered, I need something that lets my team know it’s me under here.” She sighed. “Does it really need to be all shiny?”

“Fluttershy insisted on it. She said it would maximize your visibility in the fog.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Sort of.” The pegasus let out a long breath. “Alright, I’m heading to my house for now. You’ll be helping out with the firewood, right?”

“Naturally,” Rarity replied as she brushed a hoof through her mane. “I intend to do whatever I can to clear that nasty fog away before anypony gets hurt. Why, it’s basic equine decency.”

“Cool. See you in an hour, then.” Rainbow Dash took off again, this time in the general direction of her home.

Scootaloo was still too stunned to react as Rarity returned to her boutique; she’d never seen Rainbow Dash wearing anything like that before. It was like a Wonderbolts outfit with all of the “cool” removed and exchanged for “weird.” What made it even stranger was the fact that Rarity had willingly made something that she had freely admitted was ugly, and she didn’t seem put off by this in the slightest. Scootaloo soon shook off her torpor, however. She had to get back to the clubhouse.

August 31 – 4:03 PM

When Fluttershy regained consciousness, she was inside the cabin, and she somehow managed to regain most of her composure as well. Indeed, it turned out that Douglas Fir was every bit as civic-minded as the Mayor had implied, and with the politico’s assistance, she easily convinced the donkey to help out. The problem, though, was that his ability to help turned out to be more restricted than they had expected.

The donkey stood stock-still, hardly moving a muscle as he slowly and deliberately explained himself. “I’d be happy to help you out, of course, but if you’re going to need that many bonfires there simply might not be very much I can do. You see, Ms. Fluttershy, all of my firewood for sale at the moment has been chopped for use in fireplaces and wood stoves. You’re going to need a lot of large branches and trunks for what you’re planning.”

The pegasus had to fight the urge to run out of the cabin screaming like a madmare in response to the latest unwanted surprise. “Oh, um, well, I guess that could be a problem, but can’t you cut down a few more trees?” There did seem to be an awful lot of them in the area.

“Sure,” Mr. Fir replied. “But I won’t be able to get the amount you need before sundown.”

“Oh, um, but we’re gathering a lot of volunteers, though.”

“And do these volunteers have experience using crosscut saws? Because at the speed you’ll need to get my trees cut, it could be extremely dangerous.”

Personal injury claims, of course, were the last thing that Fluttershy wanted to deal with at the moment. The plan had failed, and she was on the brink of complete and total ruin. It was only a matter of time before her name would be uttered in the same breath as Credit Mobilier or Boss Twill.

“Um, Fluttershy? Are you alright, dear?” the Mayor asked with some concern in her voice.

This snapped Fluttershy out of her distraught musings about her place in Equestrian history. “What?! No! Er, I mean, yes. Of course I’m alright. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, you’ve been hyperventilating for nearly a minute now.”

“Oh... uh, right. I, um, need to think about what to do next. Do you mind if I take a short walk to, um, clear my head?”

“I don’t see why not,” Douglas answered. “Just take care that you don’t get lost.”

“Um, right.”

Douglas Fir’s cabin was still in view (but well out of earshot) when Fluttershy began making her plans. “Okay, if I start hoofing it right now, I can probably get through Foggy Bottom Bog by sunset. With any luck, before anypony figures out that I’m the worst pony ever, I’ll have found a hiding place somewhere in the Badlands. I’m sure they won’t think to look there; after all, they must be called Badlands for a reason, right? Oh, but what if that’s the first place they look because I’m a bad pony?! I’d better keep going south... but how far? Does Zebrabwe have an extradition treaty with Equestria?”

Fluttershy’s panicked speculation was interrupted by a sudden burst of chirping high over her head. A half-dozen songbirds fluttered down to her eye level, filled with concerned tweeting over the animal caretaker’s panicky monologue. The pegasus silently rebuked herself; how could she be so thoughtless as to leave without making arrangements for her friends? She apologized to her avian companions, “Oh, I’m sorry if I upset you. It’s just that I’ve managed to get myself into a lot of trouble, and I don’t think that anypony will be able to help me out of it now.”

The birds, however, begged to differ, if their rapid cheeps and trills were any indication.

Fluttershy’s eyes widened as their suggestions sunk in. “Of course... why didn’t I think of that before? And I know just who to ask, too. Um, would you mind delivering a message for me?”

Upon receiving some affirmative chirps, the pegasus sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

August 31 – 4:12 PM

“Okay, so how do I make a sheepshank again?”

Apple Bloom groaned and set down the section of net that she’d been working on all afternoon. “Sweetie Belle, sheepshanks are just used ta shorten ropes, not connect them.” The earth pony was starting to wish that she hadn’t insisted that her friend help out instead of merely supervising. “And the knot you’re s’posed ta be usin’ there is called a cow hitch. See?” Apple Bloom deftly wrapped one section of rope around another and pulled it tight. “Just follow the instructions in that knot-tyin’ pamphlet I gave you.”

“But this is a net, not a cow.”

Apple Bloom rolled her eyes. “I know that, Sweetie Belle, but that’s just what it’s called.”

Sweetie Belle stared uncomprehendingly at her friend. “Why’s that?” she finally asked.

“Cuz we use them to tie up nervous cattle so they don’t start stampedin’ if they get spooked.”

“Okay, but I still don’t see what all that brown gunk is for. It’s not even in Scootaloo’s initial plan.”

Apple Bloom looked where her unicorn friend was pointing and saw a vat full of a thick, viscous substance. “That brown gunk is pine tar, and I’m gonna soak the rope net in it to make it extra sticky so the human can’t escape.”

“Oh! Backup plan! You can mold the leftover tar into a pony, and then when the mean human tries to punch or kick it, it’ll just get stuck.”

“Sweetie Belle, that’s about the most hairbrained idea I ever heard of. Now c’mon. This net ain’t gonna knot itself.” Apple Bloom sat down again and once again picked up the net, doing her best to ignore her friend’s frustrated grumbles.

It was at this point that the door to the clubhouse swung open. “Guys! You’ll never believe what happened!”

“You actually convinced somepony to give you a bowling ball?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“Uh, well, yes, I did, but that’s not what I was going to say. Rainbow Dash is dressed up like a weird fish-thing, only without fins, and... and what’s that smell?” Scootaloo glanced over to the corner where the vat of pine tar sat. “Sweetie Belle, I thought you said you wouldn’t try to make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches anymore!”

The unicorn filly didn’t seem amused. “That’s not funny, Scootaloo.”

“I wasn’t laughing, Sweetie Belle.”

Apple Bloom, who wasn’t particularly eager to listen to a shouting match at the moment, jumped into the conversation. “I brought that stuff in. I’ll explain it later. But what was that about Rainbow Dash and a fish?”

“Rarity made her a suit that’s all shiny like a fish. Apparently, it’s supposed to help her fly through the fog.”

“Why would she want to do that?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“I’m not sure, but... I think she’s going to be giving orders to other ponies about fires, or something like that. And, well, between that, and stuff I’ve overheard from other pegasi, I think... I think they’re trying to get rid of the fog!”

Apple Bloom scratched her head before responding, “Oh, well, that’s good, right? It oughta make the humans easier ta see.”

“But the humans are using the fog as cover for the invasion. Without it, they won’t even try at all, and we’ll never get the chance to catch one in our trap!”

Apple Bloom’s eyes widened in panic. “Sweet Celestia, you’re right! If we don’t do something, we won’t get our cutie marks!”

Scootaloo nodded, glad that her friend had realized the seriousness of the problem. “Exactly! Fortunately, I came up with another brilliant plan on the way over—”

“What is wrong with you two?!” Sweetie Belle shouted.

Apple Bloom looked confused. “We’re just tryin’ ta get our cutie marks, like usual.”

“Apple Bloom, our cutie marks aren’t worth risking the safety of everypony else in Equestria.”

“Are you sure?” Scootaloo asked. “I’m pretty certain we’ve put all of Equestria at risk before. Multiple times, in fact.”

“Well, maybe,” Sweetie Belle replied, “but we’ve never done it on purpose. Besides, if the humans are invading, they’ll probably send more than one wave, so we’ll need to have our trap ready anyway.”

Apple Bloom sighed. “She’s got a point, Scoots.”

“Aww.... but my new plan was awesome. It was gonna have huge explosions and everything.”

“One awesome plan at a time, Scootaloo,” Sweetie Belle said as she picked up the rope net again.

Three seconds later, Apple Bloom shouted, “No, Sweetie Belle, that’s a granny knot!”

September 1 – 12:36 PM

With Fluttershy’s personal issues finally out of the way, the committee of friends finally could sit down and start brainstorming possible solutions. For the most part, it was Twilight, Rainbow Dash, Applejack, Rarity, and Pinkie Pie who threw out suggestions, while Fluttershy quietly listened and evaluated their ideas, occasionally interjecting with a bit of technical information to keep them from focusing on plans that were more plausible in theory than reality. Pencil Pusher, meanwhile, sat in a corner, scribbling notes on each idea to assist him when it was time for him to think of ways to get around the inevitable bureaucratic hurdles back in Cloudsdale.

Unfortunately, twenty minutes of tossing around ideas hadn’t yet produced a plan that was viable enough for Fluttershy’s endorsement. Rainbow Dash suggested various schemes centered around freezing the fog, but Fluttershy pointed out that the formula was designed for the extremes of desert weather, which meant that the fog could easily survive temperatures below freezing, because deserts could get very cold at night. Rarity’s idea of distributing premium fog suits on a large scale was shot down not only because they were impractical for everyday wear, but because “ignoring” the fog would do nothing to help the earth pony rock farmers who risked hypothermia every time they went outdoors to tend their crops.

For a while, it seemed like asking Princess Celestia to help out might get the job done, but Twilight Sparkle pointed out that increasing the sun’s intensity could simply result in a repeat of their first plan, except that the wider scale could cause the entire fog bank to set faster. Instead, she favored using electrolysis to separate the water in the fog into hydrogen and oxygen. However, the fog was still made up of separate water droplets, which meant that there wouldn’t be a complete circuit to allow for an electric current (and even if it was feasible, it would still be extremely dangerous for the rock farmers inside the fog bank).

“Ooh! I’ve got an idea!” Pinkie Pie suddenly shouted as she bounced in her chair, waving her hoof in the air like a precocious schoolfilly.

There was a brief pause as the other ponies considered whether it would be worthwhile to listen; Pinkie Pie’s ideas tended to be rather hit-or-miss. Then again, when her ideas “hit,” they tended to be really effective, so it wasn’t long before Applejack broke the silence: “All right, Pinkie. Let’s hear it.”

“Okay, you know how it’s a lot easier to eat a pan of brownies if you cut them into tiny squares first? Well, I guess you’d also have to take them out of the pan, and maybe put on some chocolate frosting and sprinkles and get a glass of milk to wash it down and—”

“Yes, Pinkie, we understand the concept,” Rarity cut in. “Please, continue with your explanation.”

“Well, what if you used really fast bursts of wind to chop up the fog into little foglets? Then you could just move them out of the way until the magic wore off.”

“I don’t think that’ll work too well,” Rainbow Dash said. “The strongest winds in Equestria are the north winds from the Crystal Mountains, but they take way too long to change speed for the kind of thing you’re talking about.”

“Um, okay, but can’t you just take a local wind and make it a little bit stronger?”

Rainbow tapped a hoof against her chin as she considered this. “I guess in theory we could redirect the crosswind that keeps clouds out of the Everfree Forest, but I still don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s not like we’d have a place to move that fog to, and since these are construction materials we’re talking about, there’s no telling how long it would last, even if it was broken up into chunks. Besides, if we move the Everfree crosswind, some of the stray bits of the fog might get blown in there, so that’s definitely a no-go.”

“Why’s that?” Pinkie asked, looking disappointed that her idea was apparently not as super-duper as she thought it was.

“It’s the Everfree Forest,” Rainbow Dash said. “Pegasi have no way to control normal clouds in there. I don’t think anypony would want to risk the chance of this stuff getting in there.”

Fluttershy leaned back in her chair, listening quietly to the conversation. Though Pinkie Pie’s idea had been somewhat creative, she had to agree with Rainbow Dash’s assessment; not only would pulling it off before the fog solidified completely be a logistical nightmare, but the resulting clouds would need to be continually moved around Equestria’s skies for decades, since there was no ecosystem—not even the desert—that called for partly cloudy skies one hundred percent of the time. The fact that these clouds would have to be kept isolated from normal clouds in order to keep them from regenerating their structural integrity only made matters even more complicated. Still, something seemed off about Rainbow Dash’s reply. The big picture was right, but Fluttershy couldn’t shake the feeling that her friend couldn’t see the trees for...

...the forest.

Fluttershy’s ears suddenly perked up and her eyes widened. “The Everfree Forest,” she said out loud, surprising the other ponies in the room.

“Um, what about the Everfree Forest?” Twilight Sparkle asked, looking rather confused.

“That’s it,” Fluttershy responded. “That’s the solution! We can blow the fog right into the Everfree Forest!”

“What?!” responded all the other ponies in unison.

“Now, if we aren’t careful, this could get out of control,” Fluttershy admitted. “For one thing, we might need gale-force north winds to push all that fog over the mountains....”

Rainbow Dash flew out of her chair and hovered over the table in front of her friend. “Fluttershy, you can’t be serious! There’s no telling what that fog will do when it hits the Everfree.”

“Oh, but that’s not really the case, when you stop and think about it,” Fluttershy corrected her friend in a gentle but unusually confident voice. “We know exactly how fog behaves in the Everfree Forest, because we saw fog in there the night we defeated Nightmare Moon. Since weather magic doesn’t work in Everfree, it’ll behave like natural fog and start dissipating into the atmosphere.”

Twilight shook her head. “Fluttershy, you don’t know that for sure. Nopony’s done any research on weather in the Everfree, and you’re only working from a single instance of first-hoof experience.”

“It’s not just my experience. I asked Zecora about fog in the Everfree Forest when I was studying for my certification, since it wasn’t covered in my course and I thought it might be on the exam. From her descriptions, there doesn’t seem to be much that’s unusual about it, other than the fact that pegasi aren’t controlling it.”

Rainbow Dash didn’t seem altogether convinced by this. “But still, you wanna send something deadly into something else that’s also deadly? That’s, like, double the deadly!”

Fluttershy shook her head. “Rainbow, the reason pegasi can’t control the weather in the Everfree Forest is because pegasus weather magic stops working once clouds cross its border. If it just changed how the magic works, somepony would have developed a new set of guidelines so we could manage the Forest’s weather by now.” Fluttershy’s voice, while still quiet, seemed to have lost a lot of the ethereal qualities that usually made her seem more fragile than a wet tissue.

“This is all well an’ good,” Applejack said, “but ain’t it gonna be kinda complicated to blow fog around Ponyville to get to the Forest in the first place?”

Fluttershy gave a small nod. “You’re right, that would be complicated. Adjusting the local winds that drastically might take the better part of a week, and the fog will probably set by then.”

“So you’re giving up on your idea, then?” Rarity asked.

“Oh, no,” Fluttershy said. “That wasn’t the idea I was suggesting. I’m suggesting that we reduce the Everfree crosswind and have some north winds blow the fog over the mountains and directly through Ponyville.”

“What?!” came another shocked unison cry.

“It shouldn’t be too difficult, actually. The fog isn’t setting regularly, like it would at a construction site, so that means that there’s structural weaknesses. I’ll need to have Twilight do some math... um, I can tell her what the properties of the fog are without getting in trouble, right?”

Pencil Pusher seemed a little startled to have been addressed; he hadn’t really taken much part in the brainstorming. “Uh, no, that shouldn’t be a problem, as long as you don’t talk about the pegasus magic Caligo actually used on the clouds.”

“Fluttershy,” Rarity said, “please be reasonable. That fog put Pinkie Pie in serious danger, and you’re now talking about sending it directly through Ponyville itself.”

“I... I know it’s risky,” Fluttershy said, her voice briefly regaining its usual wavering quality, “but I’m supposed to be doing what’s best for Equestria, not just Ponyville. Besides, an unusually cold, damp mass of cloud stuck in the middle of Equestria is probably going to wreak havoc on nearby weather systems, so leaving it anywhere near Ponyville could damage local crops. No plan is perfect, but I think this is the most likely one to work. And... well... this is my decision, isn’t it?”

Rainbow Dash sighed. “You’re right. This is your decision, and you are the most qualified pony to make it. Alright, let’s do this.” Once the head of the local weather team was settled, the other ponies acquiesced, even if a few still had misgivings.

“Thank you, everypony,” Fluttershy said with a smile. “This plan is going to work. I know it. I just need your help to make sure everything goes smoothly.”

“Okay, Fluttershy,” Twilight said. “What can we do?”

“Well, at the moment, my plan is really vague, and I’ll need to make it more specific in order to make sure everything’s coordinated. That’s where you come in,” Fluttershy said, nodding in Twilight’s direction. “I need you to do some calculations for me so we can find out exactly what we need to do and when we need to do it.”

Twilight nodded. “Do you want the numbers for ideal conditions, or should I calculate probabilities and run some simulations first?”

Fluttershy bit her lower lip for a second or two as she considered this option. “Give me the numbers for the worst-case scenario first, then start running simulations if you have time.”

“Got it,” Twilight responded as she walked over to a chalkboard and started to draw matrices.

“Rainbow Dash,” Fluttershy continued, “I need you to gather data for Twilight, and then meet with your weather team and have them get ready to shut off the crosswind. Once those plans are in place, make sure that local cloud houses have their elevation raised; we don’t want anypony’s home getting destroyed by the fog if we can help it.”

“Gotcha. Will I need to keep Twilight updated with data?”

Fluttershy sighed, “That would be nice, but you’ll be rather busy.”

“I think I can help with that,” Rarity said. “You gave me enough material for two or three more fog suits. Rainbow Dash can send a few of her associates to the Carousel Boutique, and I’ll outfit them so they can assist in monitoring the fog as well.”

Fluttershy smiled. “Thank you, Rarity. Applejack,” she said as she turned her head towards the farm pony, “I need you to... um... get some volunteers, I suppose. We need earth ponies and unicorns who are willing to patrol Ponyville while the fog is moving through town, to make sure that nopony is caught outdoors.”

Applejack pushed her hat back and nodded. “I reckon I can handle that,” she said.

“I’ll help you!” Pinkie Pie added gleefully.

“I’m sorry, Pinkie Pie, but I need you to do something else,” Fluttershy said.

“Aw, I wanted to throw a ‘fog patrol’ party,” the pink earth pony said glumly.

“Actually, I do need you to throw a party,” Fluttershy told her with a smile.

“Really?” Pinkie Pie said, her eyes widening.

Fluttershy nodded. “That fog is going to be extremely dangerous for any foal who gets caught out in it. Hypothermia will probably set in quicker with them, and on top of that, the inside of the fog is particularly dangerous for any pegasus who isn’t wearing full safety gear. I need you to throw a party so amazing, that none of Ponyville’s foals will be curious enough to wander out into the fog. In other words... I need you to throw your biggest and best party ever, and I need you to pull it together as soon as possible.”

Pinkie Pie looked uncharacteristically intimidated by this request. “Um, how soon is ‘as soon as possible,’ exactly?”

Fluttershy sighed. “Well, this is just an educated guess based on the information Caligo Manufacturing gave me, but I think we have at least two days before the fog sets permanently. But, um, I’d prefer we do it before then, just in case I’m wrong, so I’m hoping to do everything tomorrow.”

“Oh, um, okay...” Pinkie trailed off for a bit as she thought about the situation. “Does it have to be my best party ever? Don’t get me wrong—I’d love to do it, but I normally have to plan my really big parties months in advance.”

“What are you talking about, darling?” Rarity asked. “You put together Princess Cadance and Shining Armor’s wedding reception in a matter of days.”

“Yeah, but Celestia was paying the bills. The Cakes could never afford to pay me that kind of money for working in their shop.”

“I think you’re forgetting that Fluttershy is making this request in her capacity as a Weather Department official,” Pencil Pusher said. “Specifically, one who has access to the DOW’s emergency spending fund.” He shuffled through a stack of papers and extracted a form. “Just get her to sign off on all your expenses and send the bill to Cloudsdale when you’re done. As long as you don’t go too far overboard, nobody will so much as bat an eye.”

Pinkie’s eyes widened almost as much as her smile as she let out a squeal of delight. “I won’t let you down, Fluttershy!” she shouted with glee. “I’m going to throw the partiest party in the history of partying! This... will be my masterpiece!”

“That’s just what I wanted to hear,” Fluttershy said. “Well, I guess we’d better get started, then. Pencil, can you take care of the paperwork for me?”

“Already on it,” the stallion replied. “I’ll get back to you in an hour or two so you can sign everything.”

“That’s good to hear,” Fluttershy said. “And, um, if you all don’t mind, I’d better let Mayor Mare know what’s going on.” As the meeting broke up and the friends prepared to take on their various assignments, Fluttershy paused in front of a small mirror to adjust her cravat, which had gotten rather crooked as a result of her repeated tuggings during her breakdown. Rarity was right, she silently admitted to herself. I really do look like I know what I’m doing.

Author's Note

In case you're wondering, I'm assuming that all that extra fog coming into the Everfree Forest won't be a problem for the Tree of Harmony.

Thanks go out to my readers, who did an admirable job of coming up with ideas for the brainstorming session. Special thanks go to those whose ideas I ended up using: Posted, Bulbasaur, Comicfan616, and Cal Iaponia, who suggested various plans centered around freezing the fog; PocoRitardo, who thought of distributing fog suits; Admiral Biscuit and Burning Skyway, who suggested letting Celestia take care of the mess, and Silent Sir 224, who suggested electrolysis. In addition, a lot of folks had ideas revolving around cutting up the fog into smaller pieces, but I'd actually written that part before even asking for suggestions in the first place. And to top it all off, there's xTSGx, whose idea that they "Magic the magic bonds in the magic so that the magic will magic itself" is as close as anyone got to guessing what I actually had in mind.

September 1 – 8:43 PM

Although the sun had set, Luna’s full moon seemed unusually bright that evening, providing more than enough visibility for Fluttershy to put her new fog suit through its paces. As she darted in and out of the massive fog bank, it seemed that all of Rarity’s stitching was holding up quite nicely. Rainbow Dash had insisted that they make this flight together, but although Fluttershy had to admit that the test was practical, it was not the real reason she had gone along with her friend’s gentle nagging. Quite simply, despite the fact that she knew more about this particular fog bank than anypony else in Equestria, Fluttershy had been so busy over the past two days that this was the first opportunity she’d actually had to see the fog for herself.

She’d initially approached it with trepidation; sure, she knew from secondhoof accounts what to expect, but hearing somepony else’s description and experiencing something for herself were very different things. Just as Pinkie Pie had said, the inside was bitterly cold and palpably thick, but being an earth pony, she couldn’t possibly have noticed the pegasus magic that was working—overworking, in fact—in the massive cloud bank, binding the water droplets together as the concrete-like fog continued to set up.

She exited the fog and looked over it again as she hovered in the air, waiting for Rainbow Dash to rejoin her. Even with her fog suit, the fog had made flying difficult. Rainbow had explained this to her, of course, but she apparently had underestimated how much difficulty somepony who wasn’t a particularly strong flyer would have; to Fluttershy, flying through the fog felt like trying to flap her wings in molasses. This wasn’t to say that getting fitted for the suit had been a waste of time, though; without it, Fluttershy wasn’t certain she’d even be able to walk through the fog, let alone take flight. Still, she hadn’t noticed anything that would lead her to doubt her plan, which fortunately meant that she (probably) wouldn’t need to use the somewhat complicated scheme for contacting Luna via her dreams that the Princess had mentioned in her letter.

“So, how’s the suit?” Rainbow Dash asked as she exited the fog and flew up to her friend.

“Oh, it’s fine. I didn’t quite expect it to feel so snug, though.”

Rainbow Dash stifled a giggle. “Fluttershy, these things press our manes down so flat that we look like we’re bald from a distance. Why wouldn’t you expect them to be snug?”

“I suppose I just didn’t need to think about it very much until I got inside one.” Fluttershy was dreading the prospect of looking in a mirror after taking her suit off; never had she envied Rainbow’s perpetually messy-looking manestyle so much. The two of them landed by a road and began walking back to town.

“So,” Rainbow Dash abruptly said in a strangely disinterested tone of voice, “what do you think of that Pencil Pusher guy?”

Fluttershy seemed taken aback by the question. “I... I’m not sure why you’re asking me.”

“Just curious, that’s all,” Rainbow said. “It’s not every day you meet a bureaucrat like him.”

“Oh. Well, um, I like working with him, I guess. He’s definitely gone above and beyond what I would have expected to help me out. I mean, Princess Luna says that he took the initiative to get around that one problem with... which agency was it again?” Fluttershy paused and tapped her chin for a few seconds as she tried to recall all the details of Luna’s message. Still drawing a blank, she moved on: “Anyway, I appreciate that he recognized that there wasn’t enough time to ask my opinion, and he apparently understands me well enough to do something that’s sort of similar to what I’d do. Well, I might be a bit more nervous about asking for help, but you know what I mean.”

Rainbow Dash nodded her head. “Right, he’s a really great coworker, but that’s kind of obvious if you ask me. What do you think of him as a regular pony, though?”

“Well, I’m not sure. I haven’t really had the chance to see what he’s like as a regular pony. He seems nice enough, though. I suppose I wouldn’t mind keeping in touch with him after this is all over; he seems like he’d be a dependable friend.”

“Just a friend, then?” Rainbow Dash asked as she cocked an eyebrow.

Fluttershy blushed at the implication. “Um, well, I haven’t thought about that too much. I mean, I’d obviously need to get to know him a lot better for him to be more than that.”

“So, what you’re saying is that he might be your type, then. You’d just need to learn a bit more to figure it out.”

“I guess... but why are you asking me?”

“Well, I just wanted to know what you thought about him. I mean, he seems like a pretty cool guy, for a desk jockey.” Rainbow Dash replied in her most nonchalant tone, though her grin had grown somewhat larger by the time Fluttershy had turned her head away.

September 1 – 10:01 PM

Under normal circumstances, Greg would not be caught dead at his workplace after five o’clock. After all, one of the best parts of being a supervisor was that you could unload all your tasks onto your subordinates and make them do all the work while you relaxed in an armchair with a frosty can of cider. But these were clearly abnormal circumstances, which was why Greg now found himself in a meeting with the other bigwigs at the Department of Weather, instead of one of Cloudsdale’s more upscale watering holes. It was very important to look important when important things were happening, and the fact that it was his insight that had made this important meeting so important would only reflect well on him in the future.

“Look, Greg, I understand your concern, but this is an emergency situation. We need to be willing to take risks.”

Greg let out a short sigh. Doubtless, Synergy meant well, but if Hard Hitter was right, she’d be on the way out shortly, which meant that now was the time to demonstrate his superiority for her position as head of Personnel. This, he reckoned, was most easily accomplished by finding ways to dismiss everything she said. “Reasonable risks, sure. Not insane ones.”

“I’m sure the fog specialist knows what she’s doing,” said a stallion at the opposite end of the table. Greg couldn’t remember which division he was in charge of, which in turn probably meant that he wasn’t worth knowing, but now was not the time to risk looking weak.

“Fog specialist. Not a forest specialist.”

A short, grey mare near the front of the table let out a sigh. This was Fussbudget, the department’s Undersecretary of Finance and Greg’s immediate superior. “You both make good points,” she said in a slightly quivering voice, “but we need to reach a decision. I say we take a vote on the matter.”

This seemed a most agreeable solution to most ponies, particularly Greg, who was fairly certain that he was going to win. Nopony liked the headaches that came with dealing with complaints about departmental authority, after all.

Fussbudget called out, “All in favor...” but before any “ayes” could be registered, the door to the conference room burst open, revealing a svelte, dark blue alicorn with a stern face and an extremely powerful set of lungs.

“This meeting shall cease at once!” Princess Luna announced, nearly deafening several of the bureaucrats through her use of the Royal Canterlot Voice in an enclosed space—which was actually a fairly impressive feat, given that cloud walls tended to absorb noise rather than reflect it.

“Princess Luna!” Fussbudget exclaimed as she rose from her seat and quickly bowed. The other bureaucrats quickly followed suit. “What are you doing here?” Fussbudget asked as everypony returned to their seats.

“Earlier this evening, I was informed by a Mr. Pencil Pusher that there has been some uncertainty regarding the current plans for dealing with the fog bank, particularly where it may conflict with the Interior Department’s milieu. I have elected to give the plan full royal approval, thus entirely circumventing the problem of jurisdiction. Because time is of the essence, I am here in Cloudsdale to ensure that Fluttershy’s plan is properly executed.” Relieved expressions filled the room as Luna finished proclaiming her intent; when faced with potentially controversial actions, there are few things in the world more comforting than knowing that a princess is going to cover your flank if anything goes wrong.

This was not good, at least as far as office politics went. Not only had Princess Luna rendered Greg’s carefully considered objections irrelevant, but she’d actually praised that ungrateful suck-up! Sure, she’d managed to get Ping-Pong Paddle’s name wrong, but everypony in the room knew who she’d meant. Clearly, Greg needed to salvage the situation, and fast. “Risky, though,” he said in his most concerned tone of voice. “Trouble if it doesn’t work.”

“I beg your pardon?” Luna asked after a brief pause.

“Not good to rush,” Greg said, hopefully clarifying his position.

Princess Luna simply stared at the paunchy bureaucrat, wrinkling her nose as if she’d come across the contents of an upturned chamberpot. “Why are you talking like that?”

Greg wasn’t sure what to make of this. “Like what?”

“You seem unable to express yourself in a complete sentence, yet this is clearly not due to any sort of nervousness on your part. Indeed, it is almost as if you believed that completely ignoring the rules of grammar made you sound impressive.”

“Don’t know what you mean,” Greg said as slouched in his chair, doing his best to avoid eye contact with anypony else in the room.

“‘I don’t know what you mean,’” Luna corrected him, sounding like a very displeased schoolmarm.

“Right,” Greg said.

If one had asked Greg how he’d managed to get his job, he would likely have responded with some terse statements about his ability to motivate his subordinates. Those subordinates, on the other hoof, were more likely to attribute their boss’ success to his tendency to take credit for what other ponies had done, or possibly to dumb luck. In truth, all of these possibilities were true to some degree, but they all paled in comparison to what was truly Greg’s greatest talent, albeit a talent that neither Greg nor anypony else was actually aware that he had: an uncanny ability to shut up before he revealed the full extent of his incompetence to anypony whose opinion actually mattered.

Accordingly, Greg stopped talking.

September 1 – 11:56 PM

Twilight Sparkle found Fluttershy sitting on the observation deck. The pegasus had decided to stay at the library tonight, just in case there were any breaking developments in the early hours of the morning. At the moment, though, Fluttershy seemed more interested in Luna’s night sky than her impending plan, and quite frankly, Twilight couldn’t blame her. With all the naturally-occurring clouds cleared out of the Ponyville area, Luna’s tapestry looked especially stunning. “Do you want me to get you a blanket?” she asked.

“No, I’ll be coming in soon,” Fluttershy said. “I need to make sure to get some sleep in case Princess Luna needs to tell me something.”

Twilight sat down beside her friend. “It’s been quite a day, hasn’t it?”

“Yes, it has.”

“Tomorrow’s going to be even more interesting.”

Fluttershy nodded absently; apparently, she wasn’t in the mood for small talk at the moment, though her slight smile suggested that this wasn’t due to any particular stress. “What do you think about Pencil Pusher?” Fluttershy abruptly asked.

“Uh, he seems nice enough,” Twilight said, somewhat bemused by the sudden change of subject. “Why?”

Fluttershy let out brief sigh before answering, “I think Rainbow Dash likes him.”

Twilight seemed surprised. “Really? You’re sure?”

Fluttershy nodded. “We were talking about him earlier this evening. She said she thought he was ‘pretty cool.’”

“Uh, Fluttershy, Rainbow says a lot of things are ‘pretty cool.’”

“Yes, but this time she was using her ‘no big deal’ voice.”

Twilight’s eyes widened. Whenever Rainbow Dash tried to sound blasé about anything, that almost always meant that she was on the verge of becoming completely obsessed with it. “Huh,” the unicorn said with a slight chuckle. “It’s not what I would have expected, but I guess you can’t really predict this sort of thing, can you?”

“No, I guess you can’t,” Fluttershy said before turning to stare at the night sky once again.

For a fleeting moment, Twilight thought she detected the faintest wisp of bittersweetness in Fluttershy’s voice, but she set that aside. At the very least, this unlikely matchup meant that there would be something to occupy her mind while waiting for the plan to go into effect. The unicorn smiled to herself as she went back inside the library. Wait until Rarity hears about this!

September 2 – 12:19 PM

The Cutie Mark Crusaders had known the fog was dangerous. They’d heard all the adults explain how bitterly cold it was, how easy it was to get lost in it, and how pegasi risked getting tossed around like horseshoes; but none of these warnings had greatly concerned them. At the time, it had seemed perfectly obvious that the fog only posed a risk to those ponies unfortunate enough get trapped inside of it, and they certainly wouldn’t let that happen to them. After all, at the end of the day, it was still a fog; outrunning it should have been simple.

However, that was before two of them had gotten ensnared in a net covered in pine tar. Now, the trio’s backup plans were crumbling almost as fast as they could formulate them. Digging a pit for a new trap gave way to getting Apple Bloom and Scootaloo out of the net right now, and getting them out right now soon devolved into getting them out as soon as possible. This last downgrade occurred because Sweetie Belle was worried that if she tried to pull the net off, she’d just get tangled up herself—a worry supported by the large apple branch that had gotten stuck in the mass when she’d tried to pry her friends apart.

And yet, soon enough, even the plans to escape the net were superseded by more pressing matters as the fog grew thicker and colder. Sweetie Belle managed to retrieve Mr. Shnookums’ cage with its space heater, but the little battery-powered device was really only intended to heat an area the size of a hamster cage, and thus, even in combination with the pillows that had been muffling the jackhammer as insulation, it brought little comfort to Apple Bloom and Scootaloo as they continued to struggle against the sticky mass of the net. Although they’d had some success dissolving pine sap with water in the past, the moisture of the fog didn’t seem to be wet enough to do the trick, or maybe the process of boiling sap down to pine tar had changed it somehow—none of the fillies really had the time to worry about such matters.

The three of them were desperately trying to think of some way to cut the net that didn’t involve Sweetie Belle wandering off into the muted silver gloom to search for a machete when Scootaloo’s breathing suddenly became extremely labored. “Maybe... you could... tie some rope around your barrel... so you can find your way back,” the pegasus said, wincing with each pause in her sentence.

“What’s wrong, Scootaloo?” Apple Bloom asked.

“I don’t know...” Scootaloo replied between shuddering gasps. “It feels like... everything’s just... pushing in on me.”

“Well, you are a pegasus, and we are in the middle of a cloud,” Sweetie Belle said.

Whatever reply Scootaloo had intended to make to this comment was replaced with a raspy wheeze as her shivering grew more violent. Apple Bloom pushed her friend closer to the space heater as she looked around at the amorphous grey mass that had obscured nearly all of the orchard’s trees from view. “This ain’t good,” she said. “We gotta get Scootaloo somewhere safe as soon as possible.”

“Yeah,” agreed Sweetie Belle as she stamped her hooves to maintain her circulation in the chilly air, “but how?”

Apple Bloom sighed. “I got nuthin’.”

And throughout all of this, there was one, undeniable fact hovering between the three of them, left unsaid for fear that speech might be enough to make it reality: the humans were coming.

September 2 – 12:23 PM

“Sweet Celestia, this stuff is creepy.” Like most unicorns, Lyra had never really paid much attention to nuances of atmospheric phenomena; as far as she was concerned, the weather was little more than “the stuff pegasi take care of.” But this fog... it just felt wrong, and not merely due to the fact that it was way too cold and impenetrably thick. Perhaps it was the speed with which the fog had rolled into town—it felt like Lyra had just enough time to notice that it looked like a grey sandstorm before it was on top of her, and now, the crystal-clear view of the town square had been completely covered by an ashy haze.

“Of course it’s creepy. The humans made it, after all.”

Lyra turned her neck towards the sound of the voice, but even though Bon-Bon couldn’t have been much more than a trot behind her, all she could see through the fog was the beam from the heavy-duty flashlight mounted on the earth pony’s body armor. The unicorn pulled her scarf tighter around her neck as she thought of a proper response; it was odd to think that minutes ago she had been sweltering in her winter coat. “I’m sure they didn’t intend it to be creepy. It’s probably just the result of using science instead of magic, or something like that.”

“Yeah, well, I doubt Roseluck here is going to care much for their science when she regains consciousness.”

Lyra glanced back at the earth pony sprawled on the stretcher she and Bon-Bon were carrying to the hospital. Apparently, the flower salespony had been trying to maximize her sales during her shortened workday and got taken by surprise by the fog’s speed. It seemed she had promptly panicked and galloped straight into the side of the town hall, knocking herself out. Roseluck’s face was close enough to Lyra’s end of the stretcher that she could make out the bruise forming on her muzzle, but the rest of her body was an indistinct blur. “The humans didn’t force her to panic,” Lyra said.

“Last I checked, nopony actually chooses to have a panic attack.”

“Given how often they happen to Rose and her friends, I think they just might be choosing it. I mean, bunnies? Really?”

The beam from Bon-Bon’s flashlight quivered as the candymaker let out a snort. “Hmph. Clearly, you’ve never had to deal with that little monster Fluttershy calls a pet. And will you please pay attention to the lanterns so we don’t miss our turn? I don’t care how warm this quilt is; the sooner we get Roseluck inside the hospital, the better.”

Lyra turned her head in front of her, and much to her chagrin, she had indeed nearly missed the point where the lanterns that now lined the side of the road turned right to lead ponies towards the local hospital. “Oh... right. Um, maybe we should continue this conversation after we drop her off. Now’s not the time for distractions.”

“Fine with me,” Bon-Bon said. “I still need to figure out how to convince the doctors to let me use their medical waste for a decent human trap anyway.”

September 2 – 12:29 PM

The Crusaders were starting to wish they hadn’t put off their attempt to earn cutie marks in wilderness survival, because right now, even rudimentary knowledge would have been preferable to their complete lack of ideas. At the moment, all they had to go on was half-remembered advice they’d received while in the abortive planning stages of as-yet unfulfilled camping trips.

“I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to stay put if we’re lost,” Sweetie Belle said as she continued to pace anxiously.

“We ain’t lost,” Apple Bloom said. “We know exactly where we are... we just ain’t sure how to get Scootaloo to the clubhouse, that’s all.”

“I don’t want to stay here,” Scootaloo managed to force out. “We’ll be easy targets for...” Her voice trailed off as she was interrupted by another bout of shivers.

“Are you sure you can’t stand up, Scootaloo?” Sweetie Belle said.

“Well, I guess I can try.... Just let me get my leg... untangled,” replied Scootaloo as she managed to wrench one of her forelegs out of the net, letting out a sharp cry of pain as she left behind a small tuft of her coat on the sticky rope. “Okay,” she said as she slowly inhaled and rose to her feet. “That hurt a little more than I expected, but at least it’s a little bit easier to breathe now that I’m not all twisted around like that.”

Still, this was a good sign, especially once Scootaloo found that she could now walk with only minor difficulty. Thus, after confirming that Mr. Shnookums was still relatively comfortable in his heated cage, the three of them surrounded him with pillows and set out towards their clubhouse. At least, they were pretty sure they were headed in the right direction.

Thus, despite the fact that she had a mild limp in the foreleg with a missing swatch of her coat, Scootaloo seemed to be feeling very optimistic. “You know, this fog really isn’t that bad. I mean, it’s like walking through deep snow, or maybe really cold mud, but it could be a lot w—”

As if on cue, an unusually dense blob of fog slammed into Scootaloo from above, knocking her into the ground. Before either of her friends could figure out what was going on, the blob had bounced back into the air again, with one of the pegasus’ wings caught inside of it. It pulled Scootaloo off the ground, and proceeded to jerk around wildly, dragging the net and Apple Bloom behind it as Sweetie Belle struggled to keep up.

It was only when Apple Bloom had the prescience of mind to dig her hooves into the earth and resist the fog’s pull with all the strength an earth pony filly could muster that the wayward clump of cloud broke away from Scootaloo, who unceremoniously dropped to the ground near a small ditch.

“Scootaloo! Are ya alright?” Apple Bloom asked in a clearly worried tone.

The pegasus filly didn’t reply so much as moan indistinctly.

“You guys? Where are you?” Sweetie Belle called from the gloom.

“Over here!” Apple Bloom called back.

A few seconds later, the unicorn emerged from the silvery haze. She gasped when she saw Scootaloo lying on the ground. “Is she okay?” The argument that had seemed on the verge of destroying their friendship seemed infinitely remote now; at the moment, Sweetie Belle’s main concern was her friend’s safety.

“I’m not sure,” Apple Bloom said as Scootaloo let out another wordless groan. “I mean, if she can make noises like that, I’m pretty sure she’s conscious, but who knows if she’s got any injuries.” Anything else that Apple Bloom might have wanted to add was cut short when Scootaloo began shivering even more violently than before. Without another word, Apple Bloom began pushing her friend into the ditch.

“I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to move somepony who might be injured,” Sweetie Belle said.

“Yeah, I know,” replied Apple Bloom, “but I can’t just leave her completely out in the open where this fog can push her around.”

“But is a ditch going to help with that?” asked Sweetie Belle as Apple Bloom finished positioning Scootaloo.

“It will if I get on top of her to keep her pinned down,” Apple Bloom said. “Plus, holdin’ Scoots down will make it easier for the two of us to keep warm while you get help.”

“But... but I don’t want to leave you here! I’ll get lost in that fog, and I could freeze to death!” Sweetie Belle said.

Apple Bloom shook her head. “Sweetie Belle, I’m pretty sure we’ll all get killed if nopony goes lookin’ for help. They don’t know we’re out here, do they?”

Sweetie Belle kept hesitating, though. “But... I’m scared.”

“Ya think I ain’t? C’mon, Sweetie Belle, you’re the only one who can do it. I’m still too tangled up in this net to go anywhere.”

Scootaloo finally managed to stop groaning long enough to form an intelligible word. “Please....”

Sweetie Belle took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay. I’ll send help as soon as I can. Goodb— I mean, I’ll see you later.” With that, the unicorn filly trotted off into the miasma.