Pinkie Pie's Jazz Club

A request by Ghost Mike:

A previously-unknown Ponyville law has been unearthed which has swapped the civil rights of all ponies and pets in the town, and also flipped all owner/pet relationships legally.

“I mean personally, I’m in favor of it,” Twilight said, before giving a luxurious stretch and curling up in her pony bed. “Spike did try to make me cook at first, but I can’t cook at all. And my hoofwriting is awful. So he still takes care of the house and I still do whatever I want. The biggest change is I can bite ponies I don't like."

“Exactly!” Rarity agreed, “The biting is so important.”

“Why would you need to bite a pony, exactly?” Rainbow Dash asked, from the cloud where she and tank cuddled, while tank slowly fed her celery.

“Well,” Rarity said, “say I was lying with my belly up, like this,” and she rolled to show the white fluff that adorned her underside. “And along somepony comes, and I want them to pet my belly exactly two times. But then they have the absolute indecency to pet me a third time! Well, obviously I would have to bite them most vigorously.”

“Probably get your hooves involved too,” Twilight suggested. “Maybe curl up and kick them a bit.”

“Exactly,” Rarity nodded. “Twilight gets it.”

“Y’all are having a very different experience than me,” Applejack scoffed. “Every day seven in the evening rolls around, I’m so hungry I could eat a whole hay bale, and you know what Winona does? She balances a potato chip on my nose and tells me I’m not allowed to eat it until she says. And I’m like, girl, just give me a sandwich. I can see you’ve got a whole hoagie where I can’t reach it up on the tall shelf. But there is no way that dog is giving me a decent meal until I do the trick.”

“Don’t you have a lot of free time at home though?” Pinkie Pie asked, who was alone as Gummy was busy holding down a productive job that paid for an exotic pet.

“I mostly spend it waiting for her to get home.”

“What about you, Fluttershy?” Rainbow Dash asked. “It must have been a pretty big change at the shelter.”

All eyes went to Fluttershy, who sat silently at the far end of the circle. She wore a leather harness, a dog mask of the same material, and tight around her neck was a collar that connected to a strong leash. The cord of that leash in turn was held by Angel Bunny, who gave it a good yank whenever she was bad.

“Girls,” Fluttershy said, “I think I misunderstood the mayor’s email.”