Rays of morning light shone through the schoolhouse's windows, making Sweetie Belle deliberate whether she'd rather go blind gazing upon the sun, or mad from looking at the blackboard once more.
It was supposed to be a day like any other--a few lessons ranging from inspiring to inane, broken up by some time in the playground, and then she and the rest of the Crusaders would be off to engage in their eponymous activity.
Twilight Sparkle paid no mind to her moping, writing another equation on the board. "Can anypony tell me what's seven plus five?"
The foals, like their teacher, were bluer than normal. All except one. "Thee!"
Twilight smiled at her gold star pupil. "Very good, Twist!"
This, decided Sweetie, was what Tartarus was like. Of course Twist would take to it like a fish to water.
"Now, how about somepony else? What's eight plus seven?" asked Twilight, the lack of raised hooves leading her to pick one at random. "Sweetie Belle, could you tell me what eight plus seven is?"
Sweetie grit her teeth. "Ffffff..."
"Sorry, I didn't catch that."
"Ffffffffffff..." she fffurther hissed.
"Could you speak up? I really can't hear--"
"F!"
"Correct!" said Twilight, with glee as infectious as Rarity's obsession with cleanliness.
"It'th not tho hard onthe you underthtand, ith it?"
"No, it isn't," lied Sweetie. She wasn't a foolish filly by any stretch--normal numbers were easily understandable, and she could even wrap her head around Romane numerals.
Conversely, going past nine into the first six letters of the alphabet, in what Twilight termed "hexadecimal"--well, it certainly felt like she was being hexed.
"Psst..." whispered Scootaloo, "wanna bail?"
Sweetie could only nod in response, waiting for Twilight to turn to the board and begin writing another accursed set of equations before swiftly getting up and making a break for the door, followed by the other two Crusaders.
==========
Walking through the busy market square, the three fillies didn't attract much attention. Apple Bloom's attention, however, was drawn by the sight of her sister's apple stall.
She called out to her, unaware of the stares she received from Sweetie and Scootaloo. "Hey, Applejack! How's it going?"
"Good! How are..." Applejack trailed off, narrowing her eyes. "Hang on, aren't y'all supposed to be in school right now?"
"Uh, about that..."
Sweetie spoke up. "Could I have A apples?"
"A...apples?" parroted Applejack, tilting her head.
"Yes, please give me A apples, two short of a dozen. Or wait, is a dozen worth one and a half Cs now?" questioned Sweetie Belle, utterly deranged.
Bewildered, Applejack looked to her sister in search of answers, prompting the smaller Apple to speak: "I'm sorry, Applejack, Sweetie's--"
"Just fine!" interrupted the filly in question. "I know, let's go find the book Twilight got this whole base-sixteen thing out of!"
Apple Bloom couldn't help but see a spark in Sweetie's eyes. She hoped the filly didn't know any fire spells.
==========
The library's branches loomed over the fillies as they approached its entrance. Before they could knock, the door swung open, revealing Spike.
Apple Bloom grabbed him in her hooves, shaking him as she spoke. "Spike, Twilight's gone crazy! She's been feeding us this mumbo-jumbo about numbers that're actually letters!"
Spike pushed her off, unfazed. "Who do you think helped her with that?"
In contrast, Scootaloo was rather fazed. "Seriously?"
"Yep. Personally, I like base-eight. One for every claw."
"How are we supposed to count in that?"
"I talked it over with Twilight, come in. Sweetie Belle, could I have your hoof?"
Sweetie trudged toward Spike. "You should ask my parents for that."
"What was that?"
"Nothing!" yelped Sweetie as she speedily stuck out her left foreleg.
Apple Bloom looked between the two. "Do y'all need some privacy?"
"No, now pay attention," said Spike while grabbing the outstretched hoof. "When you start out, keep your leg bent and your hoof curled in. One."
Sweetie looked unamused. "Are we counting or dancing?"
"Counting, my tuxedo's being dry cleaned. Now, take your hoof and stretch it forward, keeping your leg bent. Two."
"It's like you're flicking something gross off your hoof," commented Scootaloo.
"Now curl your hoof back in and straighten your leg. Three."
"And now I flex my hoof back out, four!"
"You got it. To get to eight, repeat those steps on your other foreleg. The key thing is that you keep three hooves on the ground at all times, so there's no chance of you falling down."
"Hey, if I use my hindlegs, I can get to ten, or even sixteen!"
"That's nothing!" proclaimed Scootaloo, wings buzzing. "I can get to sixty seven!"
The other three turned to look at her, letting Spike ask what they all wondered. "How?"
"Just watch!" answered Scootaloo as she began going through the same steps as Sweetie. "One, two, three," she counted aloud, getting to "fifteen, sixteen, seventeen!" as she stamped her hindleg.
It was Apple Bloom's turn to speak for the rest. "I don't get it."
Smirking, Scootaloo turned her side to the others. "Just look!"
"Sorry, Scoots, your flank's still blank."
"Don't look at my flank, look at my wings!"
Spike chimed in. "That sounds like something Rainbow Dash would say."
"R--Really?" asked Scootaloo, taken aback.
Sweetie, for once, wasn't. "I get it, your wing represents seventeen! But how do you get to sixty, much less sixty seven?"
"That's easy! My left wing stands for seventeen, but my right stands for thirty four. Raise 'em both and I get fifty one! Add my hooves, and there's sixty seven!"
"Wow. How did you get so good at math?"
"Saving up for my scooter, I had to count my bits more often than a senile leopard."
"Don't you mean a...oh, forget it."
==========
"Are you sure we can't just go on crusading?" asked Scootaloo.
This elicited a sigh from Sweetie Belle. "We're ending this," she responded, pushing the schoolhouse's door open.
The scene that greeted the trio was ripped straight from a nightmare. Foals sat slumped on their desks, (save, of course, for one red-maned filly,) their tormentor remaining as gleeful as ever while scrawling madness on the chalkboard.
Twilight turned to look at the entrance. "You three! I was beginning to wonder where you ran off to."
"Wonder no more," said Sweetie Belle, adding under her breath, "while you're at it, teach no more."
Twilight looked in confusion at the item perched on Apple Bloom's head. "What's that for?"
"Oh, this?" asked Apple Bloom, placing the basket on her desk. "Well, I always bring an apple for Miss Cheerilee each morning, so I figured I should extend that to you, but then I thought everypony else could also use some big, tasty apples."
Twilight observed her distributing said apples. "That's, uh, very thoughtful of you. But couldn't you wait until recess?"
"Sorry, but we didn't want to waste any more time on your self-indulgence," stated Sweetie.
Twilight flinched. "Waste your time? I'm spending mine teaching you invaluable ways of mathematical thinking!"
"Invaluable?" asked Scootaloo. "To you, maybe. Most of us would rather learn how to split a pie three ways, or work out how many bits we need for the fair."
"But I guess you didn't have to worry about that," continued Sweetie Belle. "Princess's protege, raised with a silver spoon in your mouth."
The gray filly raised her head from her desk. "Whuh?"
"D--Don't change the subject, all knowledge is valuable!" sputtered Twilight.
"Is it now?" asked Apple Bloom, as music faded in.
Bloom began.
"You may sometimes find
You're feeling kinda dumb
You try and use your mind
Your head gets really numb"
Sweetie was second.
"All of these numbers bewilder
Through all of them you must filter"
Lastly, Scootaloo began squawking.
"Don't fret, we have an answer in store
The simplest math ever, Apple Core!
Now we'll teach you, here's your task:
Take the apple on your desk
Eat it up, no need to ask
See how it's now zero-esque?
So you see
An O for thee
And one is whole
(Obviously)
Now let's kick it up a notch
Counting up to base-ten eight
Take four apples, just you watch
One, two, three, four, ain't it great?
Every apple's double its former
One, two, four, then eight is found
Five, six, seven, getting warmer
Now it's time to wrap around
One little sweep
All the value we keep
And add one over here
Making eight, it's so clear!
You won't want for any more
When you're using Apple Core
To our dear teacher Twilight, we've something to say:
While we're awfully grateful for your contributions
And hope that your methods will help us some way
We don't have any problems for your great solutions
Oh, there's so much to adore
About good old--"
"You made it up right now!" interjected Twilight.
"--Apple Core!"
"You can't be serious, this is a mockery of mathematics!"
Sweetie huffed. "I could say the same about your curriculum."
"I'm giving you an alternate perspective on the very concept of counting systems," objected Twilight, glaring at Apple Bloom, "you're just peddling your family's wares!"
Apple Bloom chuckled. "If I wanted to bring the farm business through math, I'd be better off making a base-sixteen abacus from applewood."
"What, then, are you trying to do?"
"Show you how silly you're being."
"Silly?! I'm not the one making products with produce!"
"Our produce is our product."
Sweetie coughed. "I think what Apple Bloom is trying to say is that we're all tired of your alternatives. They're neat, but they're just not worth studying when there's so much more to learn."
"I'm pretty sure Snips and Snails can't even count normally," remarked Scootaloo as she pointed at the dazed duo, waking them from their stupor.
Snails was defensive. "C--Can too!"
"We're working on getting to three!" added Snips.
Suddenly, Twilight was blanching enough to match her mother. "Sweet Celestia, I had no idea you were this far behind!"
"Hey now, not all of us are that..." started Scootaloo, looking at Sweetie for a moment. "Boneheaded?" she finished, easing up when Sweetie gave a nod.
Twilight sighed. "I'm sorry, everypony. I've been an awful teacher."
"I wasn't much better on my first day," comforted Cheerilee.
All eyes and one Twi turned to her. "How long have you been there?" she quickly asked.
"Long enough to catch the tail end of this classroom revolt. Let me tell you, it's a lot more fun from the sidelines."
"I can imagine," grumbled Twilight. "But not teach, apparently."
Cheerilee shook her head. "Teaching is a learned skill. Anypony can do it if they properly try."
Looking at one of the books on the teacher's desk, a first edition of Teaching for Eggheads, Twilight protested. "But I followed every instruction!"
"Twilight, teaching to teach is a task for a teacher."
"Truly?"
Cheerilee wrapped a leg around Twilight. "Yours truly," she said with a smile, and that smile spread from her, to Twilight, to the rest, to whom she addressed the two words all but one wished to hear: "Class dismissed!"
