A literary hypothesis about doin' it

Ponyville looked like a masterpiece out of an art gallery.

The important distinction, as Trenderhoof saw it, was in the atmosphere. It was small, quaint, but in that smallness and quaintness Ponyville thrived. It was full of hardworking ponies doing hard working jobs, the sort of agrarian ideal that artists had longed to properly capture for centuries but never quite got the hang of.

Trenderhoof was glad that he’d returned to Ponyville to elaborate on his Small Town Chic article. Oh, sure, he’d technically been buoyed there on the manipulations of others, solely to corral him into sexual conduct with a persistent fan, but…wow, that persistent fan had a truly fantastic vagina. And she’d used it so masterfully, too!

Better than simply pleasurable, it felt absolutely illuminating. His brief indiscretion had helped him truly organize his thoughts on what amazing sex actually felt like, where it felt the most amazing, and why all the debutantes in manehattan could never prove as breathtaking as Applejack. Or what’s her name, the mare that had lured him into town in the first place…

“Trenderhoof!”

“There you are!” Trenderhoof replied, stepping away from the train platform and towards his most educational partner. “It’s very nice to see you again.”

“Oh, I’ve been hoping you’d return as well. A little birdie told me that you’d be returning to write a follow-up article, and I figured it would behoove me to give you a welcome-back gift of sorts.”

It was only then that Trenderhoof saw the basket that…Rarity, that was her name…was hanging securely onto her saddlebags, and of the large wine bottle that dangled almost precariously out of it. Trenderhoof winced, reaching out to try and steady the bottle as Rarity rummaged around through her bag and…

…pulled out a small plastic device, which she rested in his outstretched hoof.

Trenderhoof blinked, staring at the colorful little thingamajig. “Oh? And this is…?”

“A pregnancy test.” Rarity exhaled. “A little bit of light reading for you. The story is: I’m pregnant. The end.”

Trenderhoof’s jaw dropped. He stared up at Rarity, then back at the pregnancy test, then up at Rarity again. The expression on Rarity’s face was peculiar; he’d never seen anything like it before. Something worth documenting, perhaps?

“I suppose this should be one last little take away from our meeting, then.” Rarity’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Sometimes the most simple things can have the most spectacular outcomes.”

Words failed to come to Trenderhoof for a while. Then, realizing that he should probably formulate some sort of reply, he nodded and tried to force a chuckle. “That’s a good moral of this story, yes.”

“And you won’t be running away from child support, you cad” Rarity added, as she whipped out the wine bottle and clocked Trenderhoof upside his thick head.