Stupidity) [Delete as Applicable]

Chapters

A Conferred Raising of Dunces
A Call to Arms... and Other Things a Pony Doesn't Have
Beware of False Knowledge
The Difference Between Stupidity and Genius...
...Is That Genius Has Its Limits.

A Conferred Raising of Dunces

There was something off about today, but Pinkie couldn't put a hoof on what it was.

The day had started normally – getting up just before the sun, brushing her teeth and doing her morning frolicking exercises. It was while she was showering off her sweat that something changed, but she had no idea what it could be. Still, time and sweets waited for no mare, so she finished her shower, did her morning frolicking exercises and headed down to get to work.

Of course, preparing to open the bakery was as hectic as ever, and even more so this morning – while she was mixing up batches of dough, Mr and Mrs Cake were fussing about the oven cooking the first batch of cupcakes apparently not working. After fifteen minutes of troubleshooting, they talked to Pinkie about it, asking about but not accusing her of doing something to the oven. Pinkie had denied it, taken a look and, after checking the pipe and knobs and being about to open it up to look at the insides, noticed that they hadn't turned it on. This seemed like the solution, only to find out ten minutes later they weren't cooking. This, after another period of investigation, was found to be because Mr. Cake had set the fifty cupcakes to cook at fifty degrees.

After those delays, though, things proceeded relatively smoothly and Pinkie was no closer to figuring out what was wrong with today. Still, it had all started at six-thirty and that had been over eleven hours ago, so...

No, wait, Pinkie blinked for a moment before looking at the clock again. The little hand is the hour. It's 9:25.

...that had been about three hours ago, so it presumably wasn't anything urgent. As such, she turned back to her customer.

“Sorry about that, Mayor Mare,” she said as she finished bagging her order. “Three croissants, two pain au chocolat and two apple turnovers!”

“Thank you Pinkie, and it's quite alright – I understand being preoccupied, believe me. So, that's...” she paused for a moment in thought before nodding, “seven things, so seven bits.” She reached into her saddlebags and pulled out her bit pouch.

“Uh huh, that... wait...” Pinkie frowned as she remembered. “The croissants are three-for-two today, that's why you got three. And the rest are day-olds, so a half-bit each.”

“Oh, right!” The Mayor clopped a hoof and nodded. “So that's... er... hold on... three and four of... carry the two...”

“I... I think it's four bits.” Pinkie offered before inputting a few numbers onto the register. After a moment, the appropriate numbers popped up, prompting a nod. “Yep, four bits!”

“Really? Okay, then!” The Mayor smiled as she paid. “Thanks – with how stressful today's going to be, I'm glad of anything going well.”

“Oh? What are you doing?” Pinkie asked.

“Setting the town's budget for the year,” the Mayor replied as she picked up her bag and made her way out. “Always a tough time.”

“Ah, you'll be fine!” Pinkie assured her, no doubt in her mind about the Mayor's head for numbers. After a moment, she looked up. “Hey, Mayor? Have you noticed anything strange about this morning?”

The Mayor thought for a moment before shaking her head. “No, and thank heavens for that – I don't know if I could handle that. Good morning.” And with that, she left the building, leaving Pinkie no closer to an answer.

Unusually for the breakfast period, there wasn't another customer waiting after the Mayor, so Pinkie had a moment to think. What could be wrong today? I just don't know, but something's...

Her thoughts were interrupted when a loud rattling came from the bakery's door, followed by an annoyed voice. “What? Why would...?” As Pinkie walked around the counter and towards the door, the pony on the other side continued trying to pull it open in vain. “Why would they lock the door on any open day, let alone today?! I just don't...”

As soon as they paused, Pinkie grabbed the handle and pulled the door inside, leaning a hoof on the outside handle just below the sign that said 'Push'. “Hey there, Octavia!” She chirped at the pony currently staring, astonished, at the door. “Here to pick up your order?”

“Oh! Oh, yes, indeed!” Octavia shook her head and followed Pinkie inside. “Is it ready?”

“Yepperoonie on the moonie! Mrs. Cake finished icing it a few minutes ago.” Pinkie went back behind the counter and leaned down to get out the commissioned cake. “Gotta say, you really went all out for this one, didn'cha?”

“Well, I rather had to,” Octavia said, a dignified but sincere smile on her face. “After those Foalio editions of Shake Spear and Ten Son that Vinyl got me for my birthday, I really couldn't excuse sparing any expense on hers. Is the party...?”

“Been all ready since last night!” Pinkie assured her, putting the cake on the counter. “You sure you don't want this served then?”

“Positive,” Octavia smiled as she looked at the cake. “We'd both prefer to enjoy this in private and all to ourselves.”

Pinkie nodded and looked down in silent appreciation, reading upside down the white-frosted cake that proclaimed in bright blue and purple icing: “HAPY BERTHDAY, VINEL!”

“Oh, it's lovely – just as I'd hoped!” Octavia said as she closed the box and opened her bag.

Pinkie blinked, still staring at where the writing had been visible. “You sure? There's nothing... not right about it?” She asked, something itching at the back of her mind, but nothing wrong she could think of.

“Not a thing!” Octavia gave a sympathetic smile. “But don't worry, I understand – a good artist is never satisfied with their work. But as the audience, I promise – it's perfect.”

“Al... alright then,” Pinkie replied, tapping a hoof in thought as Octavia walked over to the door. However, she was soon distracted when the refined pony pushed on the door and nearly ran into it as it remained closed.

“What?!” She kept pushing on it as Pinkie came around. “Oh, for heaven's sake! Who would lock the door behind our backs? What possible purpose could that...?”

Pinkie interrupted her by pulling the door open. As Octavia gave a thankful smile and stepped through, Pinkie again felt compelled to ask, “Hey, sorry about this, but have you noticed anything... weird about today?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Octavia replied with a shrug. “Just another normal day in Ponyville, celebrations aside.”

“Okay, thanks,” Pinkie replied as the door swung shut. However, she'd barely made it back around the counter before another pony entered, prompting Pinkie to dispel her worries as best she could and smile for the customer. “Hey there, Lemon Hearts!”

“Good morning, foolish pony! How is your day of being the inferior species treating you?”

“Oh, pretty good, can't complain! How are you today?”

“I am having a wonderful day of being full of delicious and filling love.”

“That's good to hear!” Pinkie smiled, happy to have a normal conversation for once. “So, what can I get you?”

“Oh! Right!” Lemon Hearts paused. “I am definitely here to get food and not to simply scout out the town and relish your ignorance.”

“Got it, I'll get your usual.” She ducked down and filled up a bag with practised ease. “Three lemon squares, fresh and delish!”

“Thank you, take some bits!” Lemon said as she slid her whole bit pouch over.

“Thank, I...” Pinkie paused – something was off about this.

“What? What is it, churl?” Lemon asked, a twitch of apprehension flickering across her face.

Pinkie thought for a moment before she realized what was wrong. “You used your right hoof there. Aren't you left-hoofed?”

“Er, yes, but I'm practising to... er...” Lemon swallowed hard and forced up a shaky smile, “to play that thing... you know... the big black wood thing with the black and white levers...”

“Huh,” Pinkie thought about this. “I thought you hated the piano. You said the unavoidable staccato in its opening and closing of notes was anathema to the fluidity of performance. Did you change your mind?”

“Yes, of course I did, but that doesn't mean I'm actually the changeling queen in a brilliant disguise!” Lemon stamped a hoof, sweat running down her face.

There was a long moment of silence before...

“Okay, then – fair enough!” Pinkie gave her an encouraging smile. “Glad you came around – enjoy the treats.”

“Yes! Yes, I will absolutely be eating these and not leaving them to rot in my house! Goodbye, my oblivious prey!”

“Buh-bye, Lemon, I... Hey, actually...”

Lemon paused, glancing over her shoulder at Pinkie's call. “Yes?”

“I... have you...?” Pinkie paused, once again feeling that itch at the back of her brain. Something about what she'd been about to do didn't seem right. After a moment, she shook her head. “You know what? Never mind! Have a good day!”

As Lemon Hearts rushed out through the door, Pinkie thought as hard as she could. After a few seconds, her eyes widened as realized what was wrong. Wait... no it's Redheart who always wants lemon squares – Lemon Hearts' usual was brownies. Oh... her face fell as she realized her mistake. She must have been too polite to tell me. I'll have to make it up to her later.

She shook her head and looked up again – something was definitely wrong today, but she just had no idea what it was.

A Call to Arms... and Other Things a Pony Doesn't Have

It was later in the day, well past the breakfast rush and not close to the lunch rush, and Pinkie finally had a chance to stop and think hard in the hopes of figuring out what was wrong. Unfortunately, after looking thoroughly around the bakery, examining everyone who passed outside the window and taste-testing every food item, surface and pony in the main building and kitchen, she was no closer to an answer.

She had just turned towards the bathroom to continue her experimental licks when she heard the bell over the door ring, making her blink and realize what she'd just been intending. Shaking her head, she turned to the newcomer, hoping to distract herself from her embarrassment. “Oh, hey there, Spike! How are you today?”

“Hey, Pinkie,” the little dragon replied as he walked over to the counter, prompting Pinkie to do the same. “I'm doing okay, how're you?”

Pinkie opened her mouth to give a standard, positive response, but paused before she could make a sound. After a second, she sighed. “Well, I'm... maybe fine, but I've been feeling... kinda weird for a while now. Don't suppose you've noticed anything odd today?”

Spike sighed. “No more than usual, but I haven't really had a chance since... well, you're in good company. Twilight's been in one of her moods for a while now – nothing worth going to the bunkers over, don't worry, but she's been running me a bit ragged.”

“Aw, sorry to hear that,” Pinkie gave him one of her more gentle smiles. “Did she want you to do something here or are you on a break?”

“Oh, no, she had a job for me, she, um... she wanted me to...” Spike frowned, his toes-claws tapping on the floor in agitation. “Dangit, what did she want me to do again?” He scratched his forehead with the scroll case in his hand. “It was... It must have been important, what...?”

“Hey, what's that?” Pinkie asked, pointing at the case.

“Hm? Oh, nothing, just... oh, that's the thing I needed to... right!” After smacking himself lightly with his free hand, he opened the case, unrolled the scroll and began to read.

“It says 'Spike, please go to Sugarcube Corner, tell Pinkie I need to see her about something whenever she has the time, and that this scroll has some of the details. Also, after saying that, you should give her the scroll and then come back. However, before you do, please let her know that what I want her for isn't anything urgent or majorly dangerous, nor anything that would... je-oh-pard-ize...' Oh, she crossed that out. '...threaten the happiness of anypony – you know how Pinkie can get. That's all I have for you, but as you're definitely still reading this out loud, I need to pad things out until I'm certain you'll realize and stop. As such, the quick brown fox jumped over the...' Wait a minute...”

Spike shook his head and blinked hard for a second before passing over the scroll. “So... yeah.” He gave a sheepish smile before dashing out of the building, as if to outrun the awkwardness.

Pinkie let out a chuckle before she looked at the scroll, scanning past the short narrative about a dog finally getting tired of the fox using him as a hurdle and overcoming his congenital laziness to do something about it, until she got to the part that addressed her:

“Pinkie, you are almost certainly reading this out loud too, but fortunately that should be easier to fix than for Spike, like so: eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee...”

It took nine seconds of lingering on one syllable before Pinkie realized what was happening and stopped, looking down to where the letter stopped and reading the rest silently.

Sorry about that, Pinkie, but now that's done, we can get to the important bit: I need to see you as soon as equinely possible. Disregard the stuff Spike said about it not being urgent – this is top priority. I can't say anything more in this message, but please make whatever excuses you need to and join me as soon as you can – I'm in the castle basement.

See you soon,

Twilight.

P.S. Sorry about the “you know how Pinkie can get” bit – there is a reason I had to say that, but I can't say what it is yet.

P.P.S. I wrote this using edible paper and ink, and tried my best to get a taste-altering spell to make it taste like chocolate – I'd appreciate it if you could let me know how muc-

“Mmmmm... not bad, obviously artificial but... nowhere near the best chocolate, definitely not the worst,” Pinkie said to herself once she'd swallowed the paper, momentarily wondering if there had been anything else past what she'd read but quickly dismissing the thought.

After all, Twilight needed her, so she trotted over to the door, calling out to her employers. “Hey, Twilight needs me, I need to go out for a while, okay?”

“No problem, Pinkie!” Mrs Cake called back. “Oh, on your way back, could you pick up some plain flour – the recipe calls for plain, but we don't have any, just all-purpose flour.”

“Sure thing, Mrs. C! Back in... hey, wouldn't 'all-purpose' include that?”

“Oh! Right, yes, of course – thanks, Pinkie! See you soon.”

As soon as she left, Pinkie headed straight for the library, pronking a fair bit faster than normal, though not at her top speed – whatever Twilight wanted her for, she wouldn't be much good to her genius friend if she was exhausted. As such, she had time to greet many of the ponies she passed.

“Hiya, Written Script – good luck with the budget!”

“Thanks, Pinkie, think I'll need it!”

“No problem. Hey, Lyra, looking good!”

“Right back at ya, Pinkie!”

“Heehee, thanks! Hi, Lemon Hearts!”

“MWAHAHAHAHA, nobody suspects a thing!”

“Ah, classic Lemon Hearts! Hey Vinyl, happy birthday – see you tonight!”

The DJ gave her an eager smile as she finally came to the castle doors. After entering, making her way down the castle's corridors and taking one or two (or maybe seven) wrong turns, she finally found the entrance to the castle basement.

“Twilight! I'm here!”

“Pinkie! Excellent!” She heard Twilight's voice call from further within. “I'm at the end of the corridor, come through the first door.”

“I'm coming, don't worry about... wait, first?” Pinkie asked as she threw open the door the voice had been coming through to, indeed, find a second door in front of her, with both doors having an empty window covered by wire mesh.

Tilting her head slightly, Pinkie trotted up to the second door and grabbed the handle, only to find that the door wouldn't budge in either direction. “Hey, Twilight? This door's locked.”

“I know, please close the other door behind you.” Twilight replied from beyond the grate, her voice taking on what Pinkie had come to know as her 'scientific rigour' tone.

“Oh, right!” Pinkie let out a giggle as she went back to close the door. “Sorry – I promise I wasn't raised in a barn for most of my fillyhood.”

“It's quite alright – it wasn't a matter of politeness, though I do appreciate how, even if your current state, you're considerate enough to worry about such things.”

“Thanks,” Pinkie replied, trotting back from the now-closed door. “So, can I come in now?”

“I'm afraid not.” Twilight's face appeared on the other side of the window with an apologetic half-smile. “While it's possible that the airlock principle will be enough to keep this room safe, I can't really afford to take chances by letting you in until you're definitely free from the effects of the field.”

“Aw, okay then,” Pinkie said, looking down a little. “Well, if that's a thing that's going to happen again, could you maybe leave some stuff to do in here? Or at least decorate it so it's not quite so... hey, wait a minute! Effects? Field? What's going on?”

“Okay, that registered in... pretty good time,” She heard a quill scratching as Twilight's horn glowed, even though the alicorn was still looking through the grate. “And yes, you've been affected by a mental hebetation field and I need to make sure it's faded before I can let you in – I doubt it'd be actively contagious when cut off from the source, but again, I can't take chances.”

“Hebe... ta... you mean something's been affecting my mind? Oh, is this to do with why I've been feeling so weird all day?”

Twilight's eyes widened. “Able to get implication despite unfamiliar word and has been subconsciously registering change! Yes, indeed, and I promise this isn't just me having one of my more... neurotic moments. It is important.”

“Don't worry, Twi, I believe you,” Pinkie assured her before she remembered something, making her laugh. “Still, though, 'you know how Twilight can get', right?”

“And you're free!” The door rapidly unlocked and swung open as Twilight beckoned her inside. “Come on in, Pinkie!”

“Huh!” Pinkie blinked in shock at the sudden turn. “You sure?”

“Oh, definitely! That's why I wrote that line – I knew as soon as you were able to recognise the hypocrisy of it, it'd mean you're at your full mental capacity!”

Pinkie raised a quizzical eyebrow as she trotted in. “Well, if you say so. So, what's going on?”

Twilight nodded, her face setting into a forcefully level look. “Right, let's get straight to the point: Queen Chrysalis is somewhere in Ponyville.”

Pinkie jerked back, surprised both by the statement and the fact Twilight had indeed gotten right to the important part – something that only underlined the severity of the situation. “Wh- Have you seen her? Did you find evidence she's here? Who's she disguised as? What's she doing here in the first place?”

“To answer those in order,” Twilight replied with confident precision, “No; not exactly; that's what I'm hoping to find out; and I don't know, but it can't be anything good. And to answer the question you're no doubt hesitating to ask, I analyzed your pronking to prove your identity and can prove mine by...”

"No, it's okay, I know it's you," Pinkie assured her – Twilight's complete-but-reluctant self-awareness about her own neuroses was unmistakable – before thinking about the answers given. It took a split second for her to match them up to the questions, but once she had, she frowned in confusion. “So how do you know she's here? And what was that about a mental... thingy field? Is that part of her plan?”

“It may be, but not just that,” Twilight shook her head. “Also 'hebetation' means the act of dulling or blunting, and the hebetation field is what clued me into her presence. You see,” Pinkie sat down as she recognized Twilight beginning a lecture, paying close attention to her brilliant friend, “ever since first Thorax, then most of the rest of the changelings reformed and opened relations, we've been able to learn a lot about them and how they work. And one of the aspects that we would never have guessed despite it being kind of obvious when you hear it is that changelings, when disguised, naturally emit a field of mental magic. It's incredibly subtle and not very powerful, but it nevertheless affects the equine mind and makes it... less observant and sharp when looking at them. It dulls their perceptions ever-so-slightly so that they generally won't notice any slip-ups in a changeling's impersonation. It is, as far as we can tell, impossible to recognize and see through in hindsight, so don't worry about poring over your memories for anything suspicious unless you have reason to think of something specifically, but it's definitely real.”

Pinkie nodded, having been about to do exactly that before being pre-empted. “Okay, I guess that makes sense for a race like that, but then why did you need to wait? Or even stay down here at all? If it's not that powerful, wouldn't it stop before I even got here, never mind having to wait in a boring room for aaaaaages!” She hung her head in a mostly-joking pout.

Twilight rolled her eyes with a smile, momentarily lightened by Pinkie's antics before she firmed her expression again. “Well, that would be the case for an ordinary changeling. However, we've also learned that, in both area and intensity, a queen's field is greater by at least one order of magnitude. Enough to blanket the whole town at least, and massively affect everypony in it.”

Pinkie thought for a moment, parsing what Twilight was saying and following it to the logical conclusion. As soon as she did, her eyes widened. “You mean...?”

Twilight nodded gravely. “That's right – Chrysalis's presence is literally making everypony stupid!”

Pinkie stared at Twilight, her face hanging in a neutral look as many different emotions and reactions warred inside her head for the right to be shown. The idea was simultaneously brilliant, ridiculous and terrifying. If nothing else, the idea of Twilight being affected was enough to keep any kind of smile away from her face.

After a few moments, Twilight continued. “Didn't it ever strike you as weird that not only did she fool everyone who knew Cadance despite acting nothing like her, but she also got you to dismiss her behaviour as bridal nerves despite her not showing any signs of nerves, irritation or any of the normal 'bridezilla' qualities?”

Pinkie's heart ached as she remembered. “Well... I mean, yeah, I should have... we all should have noticed but... no, it didn't seem weird – I think I was just too excited to be involved with a royal wedding to think about it.”

Despite Pinkie's moroseness, Twilight just nodded. “Exactly – it didn't seem weird at all despite clearly being weird. And, yes, I'm sure your excitement played into it – I'd assume that's why you weren't able to get that 'something's wrong' feeling then – but the important thing was that you were being mentally suppressed. As was everypony else.”

Pinkie pressed her lips together tight, trying to fit the idea into her memories past her guilt and not finding it easy. After a moment, though, another thought occurred to her. “Oh, is that also why you decided to make a scene in front of everyone when confronting her instead of... well, anything else?”

There was a moment's pause before Twilight's smile vanished, pulling Pinkie's beginnings of a smile along with it into non-existence. “Well, yes and no. I was being affected but... as far as we know, Chrysalis can't control exactly what you do when you're suppressed. The field made me stupid, but doing the specific stupid thing that played right into her hooves was something I decided.”

Pinkie stepped forward, putting a hoof on Twilight's shoulder. “It wasn't your fault, Twi.”

Twilight sighed. “I know, it's just... I know intellectually that it was the field that was mostly to blame but... well, like I said, you can't see it even in hindsight, so all I remember is how much it made sense to me at the time. I can tell myself I wasn't thinking clearly, but it still feels like I was and...”

“Oh, that's not what I meant!” Pinkie interrupted, putting a bit of force behind her cheerful tone to cut off Twilight's self-reproach. “I just meant that, with you being so super-duper-luper-uber-gruber smart and all, obviously you'd have no idea what to do if you became stupid – you've got no experience. Plus, let's face it, your 'stupid' is still smarter than most ponies' 'smart'. I mean, you did see through her, right?”

Twilight tilted her head. “Actually, no, I never suspected she wasn't Cadance during the preparation. I just thought she was evil, and that was probably just because I wasn't emotionally able to accept her marrying Shining, so the field affected me differently... we're getting off-topic.”

Pinkie nodded, even as she doubted Twilight's refutal. Still, she thought about the problem. “Well, even if you didn't see through her, we know Starlight saw through some changelings and... hey, why was she able to do that, anyway?”

Twilight finally regained a small smile, or at least a smirk. “The same reason you were just proving resistant to Chrysalis – abnormal psychologies are almost invariably more resistant to mental tampering.” There was a pause before her smile disappeared again as she started waving her hooves and stammering, “Not that there's anything wrong with... 'Abnormal' isn't a pejorative in this case, I promise, your mind isn't anything to be asha-”

“It's okay, Twi,” Pinkie assured her. “I know I'm not exactly the most normal-thinking pony around. Though... what do you think Starlight's mind has that...”

“I don't know, I don't want to know and, as long as the ankle monitor stays on, I won't have to,” Twilight said, rapidly and firmly. “Unfortunately, both the monitor and mind in question are on their way to the Crystal Empire right now, so they won't be of much help. Still, as soon as I recognized what was happening, I knew I had to assemble the finest minds in Ponyville to figure out what to do about it.”

Pinkie's ears perked up, a little optimism returning to her for a moment... before she looked around at the mostly free-of-ponies room. “And... that means...?”

Twilight gave her a shrug. “At this moment, Pinkie, it means you and me.”

Pinkie stared at her for a few seconds, the true gravity of the situation registering and pulling her jaw down into a gape. Eventually, she blinked and started speaking, her mind racing to find an alternative. “But... okay, I know Starlight's away and Rarity and Fluttershy are in Manehattan but what... what about Zecora?”

“Not in town right now and I'm not sending anyone into the Everfree with their faculties compromised,” Twilight responded instantly.

“Cheerilee?” Pinkie suggested, forcing her mouth into a grin.

“On a field trip to Canterlot and thank goodness – I dread to think what the Crusaders would be like right now.”

Pinkie started sweating as she spoke, barely able to keep pace with her suggestions compared to how rapidly Twilight was rejecting them. “Time Turner?”

“He's... well, as ever, I don't know where he goes when he's not in town, but he's not.”

“Doctor... er... Doctor Stable? Doctor Fauna?” Pinkie suggested, her smile becoming ever more thin and fragile as it widened. “Doctor...”

“Can't risk bringing them here – they're in charge of keeping others alive and...” Twilight grimaced, “well, I'm hoping the hospital's magical protection will at least dampen the effects enough to prevent disaster, but we can't afford to expose them to the full field.”

Pinkie gulped before suggesting in a Fluttershy-esque squeak, “Big Macintosh...?”

“...May be perfectly intelligent, but as solving this will require collaboration and communication, he's not ideal. Look, Pinkie,” Twilight didn't pause to let Pinkie get a word in, “I know this is a lot of pressure, but just know that I've looked into all other possibilities and that, to be blunt, if I had to pick one other pony to work with, you'd be my only choice!”

“Huh? But why? It's...” Pinkie's ears drooped as she looked away. “It's not like I'm that smart.”

There was a moment's silence before Pinkie dared to look back at Twilight... only to find that she was staring at her with an expression of pure shock and skepticism, as if Pinkie had just suggested pie-eating be an Equestria Games sport... again, after Twilight's counter-arguments the previous time.

After a long, tense silence, Twilight spoke. “Really? Really?! The mare who can list the birthdays, favourite foods and phobias of everypony within the greater Ponyville area isn't that smart?”

Pinkie scoffed. “Well, yeah – that's just my Special Talent helping me out! I mean, Applejack's not smart just because she knows exactly how many trees and maybe how many apples she has! I mean, she's smart for other reasons, even if she probably wouldn't be helpful with thi-”

“The mare who knew about the mirror pool and the parasprites, which even Princess Celestia didn't, plus what to do about them... isn't that smart?”

Pinkie rolled her eyes, even as sweat began to build up again. “Granny Pie knew a lot of stories and was really good at telling them – that's not... besides, I didn't exactly go about dealing with either of them in a smart way – I shouldn't have used the pool at all and I should have told you that...”

“The mare who invented pedal-powered flight and a gun that shoots parties... isn't... that... smart?!” Twilight finished, punctuating each word with a step towards Pinkie.

“No, that...” Pinkie squeezed her eyes shut. “My whirlycopter's a fairly basic idea, lots of ponies have thought of it, I just made it. Plus it takes everything I have just to keep it in the air – you could probably make one a hundred times better. And the cannon... pretty sure that's just my Talent again – even I'm not sure how it works!”

Twilight let out a small growl – no aggression in her tone, but instead a clear determination. “Pinkie, why are you...? You're one of the smartest...”

“NO, I'M NOT!” Pinkie burst out at just below a scream, making Twilight leap back in shock. An apologetic smile almost emerged onto Pinkie's face, but couldn't make it past her current discomfort. “Sorry, I... I appreciate you trying to encourage me, I do, it's just I... I know it doesn't seem like it, but... I know my limits. There's stuff I know – I know parties, I know fun, I know smiles... I even kind of know ponies but this? Solving a puzzle and working with strategery and Tac-tic-tacs? That's.... that's just not what I'm good at. You've got the wrong mare.”

Twilight rubbed a hoof on her temple as she shook her head. “That statement is the only wrong thing about you however,” she held up that hoof to forestall any objections, “as... desperately as I want to help you with this... apparent self-esteem issue of yours, we don't have time so I'll just point out the two things I think are totally inarguable. Firstly, regardless of your level of what most would call intelligence, there is one area where you unquestionably outshine everyone I know, myself very much included: creativity and original thinking. You can come up with ideas and thoughts that it would never begin to occur to me to consider... and apparently without realizing you're thinking of anything special.”

Pinkie thought for a moment, weighing up whether to argue – while she saw what Twilight was saying and knew she meant it, it did seem like just putting a positive spin on Pinkie being, if not stupid, then at least incurably silly. Which was, as far as she could tell, totally correct and normally wasn't a bad thing, but still made her unsuitable for this particular task. After all, if the smartest pony ever in the history of ever couldn't think of something, that suggests that thing isn't smart – perfectly logical, as far as Pinkie could see. Still, she decided it wouldn't be worth the time arguing. “And the second thing?”

Twilight gave her a thin smile and a shrug. “Whether you're as smart as I know or as dumb as you seem to think... right now, you're all I have. So please, let's start thinking.”

Pinkie nodded solemnly, doing her best to throw off all her objections for the sake of her friend. “Okay, I'll do my best – Pinkie Promise!” She said, doing the motions with far more force than usual before asking, “So, do we have anything so far?”

Twilight rocked her head from side to side. “Sort of... something minor. I was thinking that, if everypony else is being made stupid, we could make some sort of test to see if someone wasn't being affected... but how would we even administer it, let alone observe enough to determine anything? We can't afford to leave this room and get exposed to the field's effects.”

Pinkie frowned in thought, confused about how they were supposed to do anything if that was true. “Well, do you at least have a way to see outside?”

“Of course!” Twilight pointed to Pinkie's left. Looking over, she saw a monitor situated in the wall, with a wire leading out through more of the wire mesh.

“It took a while to arrange things so the receiver was outside the Fair Day cage but didn't compromise it, but once Spike installed the camera out there, I was able to get a view of it. On that note, we can ask Spike to do some basic things if we need to – he's also a little less affected due to draconic resistance – but nothing too complex or too...” she trailed off, her mouth moving as she tried to think of the exact word, but Pinkie knew what she meant.

“...Too screw-up-able, got it!” Pinkie thought for a moment, doing everything she could to keep her ever-restless attention focused. “Well, we could always just put some kind of test up in, like, a big sign so that everypony could see it. Do you think you could come up with something that only somepony with non-brain-clamped smarts could figure out?”

Twilight hummed in thought. “I'm pretty sure I could think of something, but... but how could we ensure that Chrysalis both saw it and had reason to think about it? Heck, just seeing a sign like that could be suspicious.”

“Oh, that'd be the easy part,” Pinkie said, waving a hoof. “You'd just need a bait she couldn't resist going for.”

“Okay...” Twilight said slowly, unconvinced but curious, “I suppose a sufficiently strong bait would both get her in the area and mean she'd probably pay attention, but... what kind of bait would be strong enough to do that?”

For the first time in a while, a hint of Pinkie's usual smile made itself known. “Now, see, that? That's something I can help with. Could you get Spike down here? I need him to fetch some ponies.”

Beware of False Knowledge

Pinkie stared at the screen showing the town outside, never letting her eyes or, more challengingly, her attention drift for a second, lest she miss somepony's reaction and mess up the whole plan.

Admittedly, the 'whole' plan might have been overselling it as, while Pinkie believed it would work, it wasn't exactly complicated. Really, there were only two parts to it and, as her eyes flicked over to Twilight's contribution, she felt even more secure in its reliability.

Standing in the grass, with a bold red border – scientifically proven to be the most attention-grabbing colour, Twilight had assured her – was a large sign that read, in bold letters: “NOT FAILING TO REFRAIN FROM NOT DECLINING TO NOT ENGAGE IN THE LACK OF ACTION OF NOT KEEPING OFF THE GRASS IS IN NO WAY ABSOLUTELY NOT FORBIDDEN!”

Pinkie had agreed that this was a sentence that no one who didn't have access to their full mental ability would be able to figure out – it had certainly taken Pinkie a while to parse it. So anyone who was able to decipher it enough to either understand it or realize it wasn't something they needed to worry about was presumably not affected by the field. As such, they would, most likely, either be Chrysalis herself or be able to lead them to her.

Of course, this was all predicated on Chrysalis seeing the sign in the first place and, after Twilight had sent Spike out to place the sign, she had asked Pinkie about what kind of bait she had that she was so sure Chrysalis couldn't resist. She hadn't said anything, but her tone suggested she wasn't sure such a thing could exist and was both skeptical of Pinkie finding it and desperate to know what it was.

As such, Pinkie had pointed to the area on the screen next to where the sign was to go. Sitting there, on a park bench, were Lyra and Bon Bon, staring into each other's eyes, the love between them almost turning the air pink.

At this, Twilight had nodded and congratulated her on the observation. Pinkie herself was unsure she deserved it – once she'd remembered that changelings feed on love, it had seemed an obvious thing and she was sure that Twilight would have thought of it soon if she hadn't – but she couldn't deny how uplifted she'd felt at Twilight's praise. Even if she really didn't think it was anything that smart, it was nice to imagine it was, even for a moment, and the sentiment coming from someone as brilliant and amazing as Twilight made her heart feel like it was swelling up until it was ready to gently burst out of her chest, float up and pull her into the sky where...

Pinkie shook her head slightly but sharply, not moving it far enough to stop watching the screen, but enough to focus her attention back on it. This was important! She couldn't afford to be her normal, goofy self. She was all Twilight had right now and she needed to remain on task. After all, not only were they dealing with Chrysalis, one of the meanest of meanie pants who'd ever been mean in their pants... or maybe to their pants, even if few such villains actually wore pants... plus, she supposed, Chrysalis probably never wore pants since any clothes she wore would be products of her disguise, so would be part of her and not really...

No! Bad Pinkie! Bad! Pinkie frowned as she redoubled her effort. This was worse than the mirror pool incident – as agonizing as watching paint dry had been, at least that'd been all she had to do. She didn't have to both watch it and analyze it. Whereas here, she not only had to watch the screen, but watch what everyone was doing carefully, looking for any signs that someone had had a different reaction or was doing something suspicious or... anything, really.

Still, as sweat poured down her face, Pinkie kept her gaze fixed and her thoughts clamped down. After all, this was far more important than that had been. Back then, it had only been her own future – her ability to ever be with her friends again and also her survival – at stake. But this time? This time, not only were they dealing with Chrysalis but, even more importantly... Twilight believed in Pinkie. She had faith in her and, even if Pinkie had no idea why, she couldn't afford to let her down. She had to remain focused. This plan had to work.

Which was why it was so painful to slowly realize that it didn't.

Oh, the base idea seemed to be effective – anypony who passed by and saw the sign had been drawn in and tried to figure out what it was actually saying. The problem was that none of them had shown the slightest sign of being able to do so. Every single one of them had been completely stymied. And while a fair number had eventually given up, their expressions had made it clear that it was only because they had decided it was too hard for them, and they were usually still muttering the problem to themselves as they walked away. And the fact that they'd walked away made it unlikely they were an imposter anyway.

And the few that stayed... well, there was little doubt that they were all firmly under the effects of Chrysalis's field. From Golden Harvest trying to count the number of negatives on her hooves, only to consistently forget how many hooves she had and which she'd used; to Blossomforth literally twisting herself into knots as she looked at the sign, desperately trying to find some angle or position where it made sense; to Lemon Hearts, who had resorted to arranging and rearranging stones in a desperate attempt to diagram the sentence, though if Pinkie had to judge, she was having enough trouble with basic grammar that the attempt was doomed to failure.

All of them were acting stupid, so none of them could be Chrysalis.

Eventually, after what could have been five minutes or half an hour – Pinkie had never had a good sense of time and had refrained from looking at a clock before starting her observation, so she'd never be tempted to look at it again to compare – she heard the words she'd been dreading.

“Pinkie? I don't think this is working.”

Pinkie let out a quiet whine, trying to stretch out the moments before she had to reply. Even if it was obviously coming, she knew it wouldn't feel real until she spoke up. However, as nothing continued to change, she had to let out a sigh. Her body slumped as she finally, reluctantly tore her gaze from the screen.

“Yeah... it... she's not coming.” She swallowed hard, trying to force down her despondence at having let Twilight down. “I don't get it – she should have come by now! Was the bait... was even their love not strong enough to...”

She was interrupted by a flash from the screen. Whirling around, an unbidden hope flared briefly in her heart until she saw what had just appeared.

Standing in the middle of the fading light of a massive teleportation spell was a bright pink alicorn, her mane frazzled and her eye twitching. She looked around in agitation, rapidly scanning the area until, after a few seconds, her eyes fell on the pair on the bench, not even noticing the sign. After a moment, the Princess relaxed, letting out a relieved sigh, even as she rolled her eyes at what she'd sensed turning out to be a known phenomenon. After a moment, she vanished again in a flare of blue magic.

After a moment, Pinkie spoke up, her tone flat and without hope. “So, that probably wasn't...”

“Nope, definitely the real Cadance,” Twilight replied, not taking her eyes off the screen. “Her magic was the right colour, Chrysalis would have come immediately while Cadance would have only just gotten away from her royal duties enough to investigate, and the eye twitch when she sensed that concentration of romance? Unmistakable. Unfortunately, it means that... well, Chrysalis almost certainly wasn't coming before, but she'll have sensed that, I'm sure, so she definitely won't get near there now.”

Pinkie nodded, noticing how all of the remaining ponies had been scared away by the sudden magical event. Well, except Lemon Hearts, who hadn't taken her eyes off the sign during the entire thing. The poor mare must have been particularly susceptible to this stupidity-inducing effect.

Pinkie shook her head. “Okay, the love was strong enough, so... why didn't she come?”

Twilight hummed, tapping a hoof against her chin for a moment before she shrugged. “I hate to say it, but... despite our best efforts, I think we underestimated her. If Chrysalis sensed the love but didn't come, that means not only was she strong-willed enough to resist the urge to investigate, but that she realized that it was an attempt to draw her out and actively chose not to follow it. Which also means she knows we're onto her.” She sighed as she looked at the screen, where Lemon Hearts had just started banging her head against the ground, still making sure to look at the sign between impacts. “Clearly, she's far more intelligent than we gave her credit for.”

Pinkie nodded before calling out, “Spike? Could you take the sign down and tell Lyra and Bon Bon they can go home now? Oh, also, get some painkillers for Lemon Hearts.”

“On it!” She heard from outside, followed by the rapid scrabble of claws on crystal. After a moment, she looked dejectedly up at Twilight.

“So what do we do now?”

Twilight scowled in thought. “Well, if she knows we know she's here, she's going to be cautious about anything we try. Plus, anyone who goes out there, including us, will be mentally dulled enough that anything we try that might reveal her, she can easily thwart. Unless...”

There was a pause before Pinkie tilted her head, unable to stop a smile coming onto her face at the prospect of Twilight having an idea. “Unless...?”

“Unless we use that. If we set something up and she prevents it from happening, then if we figure out who was responsible for preventing it, we'll have found her. But... I don't think I have anything that she'd need to stop.”

Pinkie blinked for a second, confused. “So? Why should we let that stop us?”

The Difference Between Stupidity and Genius...

“Attention, Ponyville!” Spike's voice rang out through the town as it emerged from the magical megaphone in front of his mouth. Though apparently, 'megaphone' wasn't an accurate term, as it only made the sound marginally louder, with the focus instead being on making it carry further. At its highest setting, whether you had your ear right next to it or were miles away, you would hear it at precisely the same volume. As such, Twilight had insisted that it required a different prefix than 'mega' – something to indicate a long distance travelled or transmitted – but the term 'telephone' hadn't caught on for some reason.

“Her Royal Highness the Princess Twilight will shortly be testing a magical device,” Spike continued, “a device which carries absolutely no danger and is no cause for alarm.”

Watching her assistant on the screen, Twilight shifted uncomfortably at both the use of her full title and the fact that the second part needed to be said. After a moment, Pinkie put a comforting hoof around her – she knew how little Twilight liked throwing her status around, but it was necessary to be believable. As for the rest... well, it couldn't be denied that Twilight had a reputation and, while Pinkie personally thought it was massively overblown and distorted by memory and retellings, it still had to be addressed.

The two leaned into each other as Spike continued. “This device will, in approximately ten minutes, send out a pulse that will extend over a ten-mile radius and... mo... moment-arr-ay-ly... oh, briefly disrupt any trans-mut-a-tion magic.” He explained slowly, following the phonetically written word on the scroll with his finger. “It will not affect the functions of whatever they were trans-muted into, it will simply show whatever lies beneath the trans-mut-a-tion. If you have any questions or concerns, please come to the town square within the next ten minutes and address them to Spike and he will answer... oh, wait, that's me! …and I will answer them... yep, I will... to the best of his ability.”

Pinkie looked down at the genius she was still hugging. “You're sure you'll be able to track her if she just amscrays with her ailtay between her eglay olehays?” Pinkie asked, allowing a little of her normal humour to slip out from her still-firmly-restrained thoughts, hoping to lighten the atmosphere and make Twilight feel better.

For a moment, Pinkie was worried, as Twilight's face fell into a frown. A moment later, though, it faded as she nodded, having untangled the pig pegaso-polatin, and let out a small laugh. “Quite sure – whether she runs, flies or teleports, anything that would get her outside the blast radius quickly enough would leave a magical signature that I should easily be able to detect it. And since, if she does, the hebetation field will fade, we should have plenty of time to find and track it to its source before she comes back, if she ever does. Either way, it'll give us plenty to go on. What I'm worried about is if she calls our bluff. What if she knows it won't do anything?”

Pinkie gave her a reassuring squeeze. “But that's the beauty of the whole thing – even if she thinks that, she'll still have to do something about it, just cause she can't afford to take the chance that it will work. Sure, she might think it's almost certainly not going to reveal her, but if it does, her whole... whatever-she's-doing will be ruined. So, she'll either need to stop it going off or get out of there. Plus, it's not like it's that unbelievable, is it? I mean, it's totally a thing that could be, right?”

Twilight hummed. “Well... it's definitely theoretically possible and not... unbelievable that someone could have figured it out.”

“Which means somepony as smart as you could have made it, easy-peasy-play-parcheesi.”

Twilight blushed as she ducked her head down, though made no further efforts to escape the hug. “Well... I don't know about... though, it's not like I've had the chance to do much research and studying recently... but, yeah, it's a perfectly plausible bluff.”

“Exactly, so she has three choices,” Pinkie explained, holding her free hoof up, “one: she risks getting revealed in front of everyone, which she can't afford to do,” she took her hoof off of Twilight's shoulder, though made sure to keep the rest of her foreleg around her, “two: she escapes, which we'll be able to track,” and finally, suppressing her instinct of using a third forehoof to indicate her third point, she just held up her first one again, “or three: she sabotages it so it won't go off in the first place. And even if she doesn't do it herself...”

“She won't, I'm sure of it.” Twilight sighed. “Someone as smart and manipulative as her? She'll find some way to do it indirectly but,” a small but solid smile poked its way onto Twilight's face, “that'll still give us something to go on – whoever or whatever gets used to do it, we can talk to or examine or... something that should give us a clue. It probably won't get us an immediate answer, but it'll give us a start.”

“And with you on the job, a start's all we'll need.” Pinkie gave Twilight a brief nuzzle, though Twilight hesitated for a moment to return it. To judge by her face, she was about to try and convince Pinkie she'd be just as valuable again. Fortunately, though, she was pre-empted by a voice coming from the screen.

“Are you sure it's safe?”

Looking up, they saw a small crowd had gathered around Spike, who was currently flipping through the pages Twilight had written for him, looking for the answer to Sea Swirl's question. After a few moments, he nodded. “Absolutely – the effect itself has been thoroughly tested and poses no danger to anypony – nothing that is not under a trans-mut-a-tion effect will be affected at all and anything that is will simply show what is beneath it.”

“But isn't it a test?” Golden Harvest asked, prompting another riffling through papers. “What if it turns out something bad'll...”

“The base principle,” Spike read out, not seeming to notice that she was still talking, “has been tested thoroughly in both laboratory and real conditions and there is no chance it will cause harm. The only negative possibility, and what this test is for, is if it loses its potency over long distances. Which is very unlikely and would mean that it doesn't have any effect at all past a few hundred metres.”

Despite his assurance, there was a murmuring of uncertainty among the crowd. However, that just got Pinkie and Twilight to exchange a smile – such wariness was just begging for Chrysalis to manipulate it into something to thwart the 'test'. If they were lucky, she might start rabble-rousing publicly, since she had no way of knowing they were watching. Still, given how wily an adversary she'd proved, neither wanted to rely on that possibility.

On the screen, they saw Lemon Hearts raise her hoof. “What's... transmoo... transmutate... transmutilatio-”

“Transmutation,” Spike read out, “is magic that is concerned with transforming one thing into another.”

At that, Lemon Hearts let out a relieved sigh. “Oh, that's okay, then.”

“Are you sure?” Golden Harvest asked, eyeing her with a skeptical look. “What if it affects us somehow?”

“It won't – he just said that,” Lemon replied brightly. “After all, we're all ponies... and other creatures,” she pointed at Spike, “not things! If it only affects things, we'll be fine!”

A wave of agreeing hums went through the crowd even as Pinkie and Twilight winced. Poor Lemon Hearts... Pinkie thought, maybe if we figured out why she's so badly affected by the dumb-field, we could use that, but that's for later.

They watched as Spike continued to field questions, Pinkie smiling at how well Twilight had prepared the notes. Admittedly, some of the questions asked were things that were covered in the initial announcement... and also-admittedly, it took Spike depressingly long to realize that when he couldn't find them in the 'answers' section of the papers. Nevertheless, all seemed to be going as intended, as the large timer, seemingly wired into the oven-sized device Spike was next to, ticked down to its final minute.

“She's cutting it really close,” Pinkie observed as the seconds continued to get swallowed up.

“Which probably means she's been doing something particularly distant and devious.” Twilight grimaced. “With this long to work with, who knows how many levels of proxies she'll be working through? It's going to be tough to follow them to the source.”

“You'll figure it out,” Pinkie assured her as she watched the seconds tick down. Still, she wasn't worried – regardless of her intelligence, it was obvious Chrysalis had something of a flair for the dramatic, so it seemed reasonable to expect her to wait until the last moment to thwart them.

Which means something'll happen to stop it in three... two... one... wait...

Before Pinkie's confusion could get beyond a first thought and a raised eyebrow, a huge wave of energy burst from the device with a WHOOOMPH, visible only as a wobbling in the air and moving too fast to get more of a detailed view than that anyway. The wave did absolutely nothing, of course – it was a visual and auditory effect and, other than that, only produced a slight tingle through anypony in its path. In fact, judging by the looks on their faces, they could probably tell that it wouldn't do anything, even if they assumed it was supposed to. However, that was only peripherally noticed by the two in the basement.

“I don't get it!” Pinkie said, tapping her head rapidly as she tried to figure out what had gone wrong. “She'd have had to do something about it but she... she didn't. Did she... did she wait until the last moment to teleport away? Is the hebe... the herbidacious... is her mind-screwery field still up?

The two looked up to see a group gathered around the device, trying to figure out what had happened and why the wave hadn't been functional – Spike was bashing the glowing gem that had been at its centre against a rock, Sea Swirl was pulling out wires like she was playing cat's cradle and Noteworthy was experimentally licking the (thankfully not real) battery.

“Definitely,” Twilight replied, prompting Pinkie's scowling to intensify.

“Could... could she have teleported away and back quickly?”

Twilight shook her head. “No – without a receiver emplacement, it'd take time to build up the energy needed to travel that distance – we'd have seen some reduction in her field if she had. No, I think... I'm afraid the only explanation is that she... she knew we were bluffing.”

“But how?!” Pinkie threw her hooves up. “How could she be so sure that she was willing to take the risk?”

“I don't know, but... oh, this is hopeless!” Twilight slumped to the floor, her hooves and wings splayed around her. “How are we supposed to out-manipulate a master manipulator if we can't even leave this room and directly see her without making it certain she can manipulate us?”

Pinkie swallowed nervously, desperately trying to think of something to make their efforts seem less doomed. “Well... maybe if we can figure out what she's doing? I mean, yeah, she's real, real good at tricking ponies, but if we knew what she was trying to trick them for, that might give us a clue.”

“But how?” Twilight let out a whinny that felt like it tore Pinkie's heart in two. “She could be doing anything! We have no way of knowing what her game is!”

Pinkie closed her eyes tight for a moment, until an old saying popped into her head. “Well, then maybe we should play the pony, not the game... or play the changeling, I guess.” She thought for a moment, believing that the saying could prove helpful, even if she wasn't sure how yet. “Like, let's think about what she's done before. Like when she was disguised as Cadance, she was tricking us into... er... tricking you... tricking everyone into... wait, what was her plan again?”

Twilight blinked, considering this before answering. “I... I think she was trying to get me ostracized from my friends so we couldn't use the elements... probably?”

“By not acting like Cadance and instead acting like... well...?”

“Like herself, yes.”

“Okay, but... but why, though?” Pinkie asked, squinting as if trying to visually search for an answer. “I mean, we know her big goal was to marry Shining Armor... for some reason.”

Twilight nodded. “I'd assume it was to maximize the amount of love she could drain from him and, subsequently, the power she could wield when she got him to drop the shield later and catch Canterlot unawares.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Pinkie said, starting to pace as her thoughts tumbled through the logic involved. “But if that was her goal, wouldn't it be a lot safer to just... act like Cadance? Not raise any suspicion, get through the wedding and then take you out if she needed to? Like, if she'd been able to catch us properly by surprise, it wouldn't have been hard to capture us before we could even think of the elements. And acting like the person you're pretending to be just seems like the best way of doing that.”

Twilight let out a hum as her head nodded along absently with Pinkie's words, her mind focused on analyzing them. “Well, maybe she was worried I'd see through the deception anyway?”

“But you didn't,” Pinkie pointed out. “Like you said, you just thought she was evil and nasty, not that she was a faker. And why would everypony else, lots of them almost definitely ponies who'd been around her a bit before then, not notice something was wrong, but you would when... I didn't think you'd seen her much since you were a filly? Even you're not that sharp, Twi. Besides, if she was that worried about it or the elements... why wouldn't she just use that brainwashy dope-zap on you? Or if not you, one of us – not like it'd be that hard to get one or more of us alone long enough. Heck, she could have even replaced you with a changeling before we even went to Canterlot.”

“Well, she... she might not have... maybe you would have seen through...” Twilight started tapping a hoof in agitation, as Pinkie could see her mind was racing with possibilities. “Then again, it's possible that she's just... not a very good actress and didn't want to rely on her hebetation field making me not notice things. Maybe she noticed I wasn't as badly affected due to my emotional state and decided to make lemonade out of lemons by tricking me into making a scene and cutting me off from everypony.”

“Mmmmm...” Pinkie rubbed her chin, trying to make the idea fit into reality in her head. But however she tried, something caught or got stuck, like a jigsaw piece in the wrong place. “Maybe, but... well, you were always unhappy with her but... I thought the tipping point was when you saw her hit Shining with a mind-zap. Would you have made a stink like that if you hadn't seen that?”

“I... I might have,” Twilight answered, not sounding convinced in a single syllable. “But... probably not as big a one. So, she'd have had to intentionally let me see that, but...”

“But that's an even bigger risk!” Pinkie threw her hooves out wide in a combination of illustrating the enormity of it and sheer exasperation. “Like, you said she can't control how ponies act around her, dumb or not, so you could just as easily have gone to Princess Celestia in private or talked to us or looked up stuff about that kind of magic or... well, anything except what you did... which wasn't your fault, you were being dumbified and...”

“I know, Pinkie,” Twilight replied, her thoughts far too occupied with the problem she was trying to crack to consider being hurt or offended. “Well, she is a master manipulator,” she stated, though she didn't sound nearly as certain as the last time she'd said it. “Maybe she just knew that was what I'd do.”

“Nnnng, I...” Pinkie winced, both at the idea and at feeling the need to repeatedly contradict Twilight. “I don't think anypony... anyone is that good. And if she was able to see and control what you were going to do like that, there'd be so many easier and safer things to do. And if that was what she went with, it'd have to be that reaction exactly to make it not look pretty sus that you vanished after she sent you away and to... Cadance... which... er...”

Twilight sighed. “I... I think her plan was to get me to kill her thinking she was... well, the evil Cadance...”

“Something the real Cadance was able to prove wasn't true super easy – it's not like her knowing something that proved it was her and she was different was that hard to see coming. And... I mean, I hate to keep asking this, but... why?” Pinkie let out a slightly helpless laugh at the repetition. “I mean, it's not like Cadance was a threat to her plan – if she could have escaped, she would have way before then, plus it'd be way easier for Chrysalis to kill her, or at least another changeling. And Chrysalis could've sent you anywhere else... in those caves or maybe in Equestria. And if she had and you managed to come back somehow, it'd just be your word against hers, which she made sure would make us take hers. Why would she send you to the one mare who could totally unravel her whole scheme?”

Twilight swallowed hard, the pain on her face making Pinkie's heart twinge and twist, even if neither could stop their minds from pursuing the line of thought that caused it.

“Well, with how she was taunting me after teleporting me away... I think she just really wanted me to have murdered a princess, one of my oldest friends and my brother's true love. I'm... not sure she had a reason beyond sadism... which, you know, could definitely be enough to motivate her.”

“But it'd still be a huuuuuge risk!” Pinkie said, shaking her head. “Doesn't say much for her plans if she's willing it gamble it all on that happening. Even I wouldn't screw up a whole plan just to have a bit of fun... well, not intentionally, anyway, aheh,” she rubbed the back of her neck as her mind started filling with potential counter-examples. However, before Twilight could respond with any of the reassurances that were written across her face, Pinkie shook the thoughts off and refocused. “Besides, if she was that good at manipula-tation, she'd have known that, even then, you'd have never gone out of your way to murder somepony. The worst you'd have done was rough her up a whole lot, but... well, from what you've said, Cadance was already pretty roughed up.”

“Er...” Twilight momentarily looked like she wanted to argue, but if Pinkie was reading her right, she was too busy thinking about the rest of what was said to focus on that. After a moment, she pressed a hoof against one side of her face, at once pressing against her forehead and her eye as she tried to both envision Chrysalis's thought process and reconcile it with her image of the changeling queen. “She... well, she could... I think her whole plan was... er... she decided to...”

“If it was all her plan, then she decided,” Pinkie said, finishing Twilight's last start-of-a-thought, “to try a risky, difficult and compli-ma-cated plan instead of a simple, safe and reliable one, then did the one thing that would obviously make it so you could undo it all. Is it just me or is she sounding... really, really... not smart right now?”

“I... no, that can't be right – she's Chrysalis!” Twilight growled out as her hooves vibrated in agitation. “One of the foremost enemies of all ponykind... all lifekind. Sure, her hebetation field makes it easy to fool ponies, but she has to have some kind of intelligence. But... but you're right, that's all... the most obvious explanation is incompetence, but what could possibly be making her act... that... stupid...” Twilight's eyes widened.

And, while she couldn't be certain, Pinkie felt like her own widening eyes were a perfect mirror. “Unless...” she said before she and Twilight said, in almost-complete unison:

“She's affected by her own hebetation field!”

“She's affected by her own dumb-dumb field!”

There was a pause before Pinkie and Twilight let out an only-slightly-less-synchronized giggle. After a moment, though, Twilight's face fell.

“Well, that's... kind of encouraging, but... I think it might make it even harder to find her if the one thing we thought would set her apart – her intelligence – instead blends in just as much.”

“Mm, maybe, but...” Pinkie thought for a few seconds before shaking her head. “Well, it also means she's way, way more likely to slip up and give herself away, even if the ponies around her won't be able to notice. Maybe... Twi, if we could figure out a way to protect ourselves from her field, could we just... look around and talk to ponies and see if we can figure out who she is the old-fashioned way?”

Twilight hummed as she thought. “Maybe... though, anything that could protect us would definitely draw attention and seem suspicious... though neither she nor anypony else would probably notice. Plus, well, it'd probably be you who did the asking, with how much you know about everypony, and I don't think anyone would be suspicious about you doing something that looks... out-of-the-ordinary.”

Pinkie laughed in appreciation of Twilight putting things so delicately. “I am the weirdo with the ear-dough!” she said, idly feeling inside her ear for any of the dough that got in there when she was baking with an odd frequency. “But we'd still need a way to protect ourselves. Out there, I mean – obviously we're protected here in your... mind-field-protection room?”

Twilight snorted out a momentary laugh. “Well, actually, the purpose of this room is to be isolated from magic in general – I have a few long-term experiments in here that can't afford to be affected by any large magical events or phenomena. Honestly, it was just a happy coincidence I was scheduled to check up on them... and that I'd written down enough dumb stuff on the schedule to notice the hebetation field... and, for that matter, that the field didn't make me mess up or ignore my schedule completely.”

“I don't think anything could do that,” Pinkie said with another laugh, happy that the mood had lifted since their earlier despair. After a second, though, her brow lowered as she remembered something. “But, wait, I thought this field was some kind of electric... magnet... radio... stuff?” she finished, knowing the idea but unable to remember the exact words. “Don't Fair Day cages only protect against...”

“Electro-magnetic radiation, yes, that's normally true,” Twilight explained, a small smile on her face, “unless the metal used is cold iron, in which case it does a pretty darn good job blocking magical effects too. It'll stop any kind of passive magical field and even a lot of direct spells.”

“Oooh, that makes sense,” Pinkie said, smiling at the ingenuity. “Shame we can't spread it out over the whole town... or, I guess, over everypony in town, or maybe just Chrysalis herself... though she probably wouldn't stay still long enough to let you put it up around her... unless you put something really tasty somewhere and got her while she eating, but she eats love – I don't think...” she blinked for a second before squeezing her eyes shut and bonking herself hard on the head, angry at having gotten distracted again by her usual mental antics. “Sorry, Twi, I just got... got carried away, I promise I... I...”

She was caught short when she opened her eyes and looked at her friend. “Twilight?”

“Yes?”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like I'm a thousand-year-old lost book going for a bit at a yard sale?”

Twilight opened her lips, turning her smile into a grin with more than enough joy to make Pinkie ignore how it felt like it had slightly too many teeth. “And you say you're not that smart...”

...Is That Genius Has Its Limits.

“Hey there, Berry Punch! How's little Ruby Pinch?”

“Oh, she's doing great, Pinkie – been looking forward to this field trip for weeks now and she's probably having a wonderful time!”

Yeah, that checks out – Ruby's been almost shaking out of her skin, she's been so excited. And that smile definitely knew and loved that her daughter was happy – she's herself.

Pinkie returned a beam to Berry as she kept going, looking around at the town around her, in as much as she could. It was silly, she knew – as if any of her feelings weren't – but after being confined in one room for so long, it felt amazing to finally be out and free to wander Ponyville again, even in the different way she was. Admittedly, she couldn't think of anypony she'd rather have been confined with than Twilight, but still, it was nice to be out in the fresh air again, even if she was still technically confined.

She only hoped that Twilight wasn't having too bad a time still being stuck there. However, it was unavoidable – not only did they not have enough material to get both of them out here but, as Twilight had pointed out, Pinkie was the only one who reasonably could go out. After all, if ponies saw Twilight doing something weird or inexplicable, they'd think either there was some big event or threat, she was performing an experiment or she was having one of her occasional... episodes, and any of those would make ponies cautious, if not outright panicky. But Pinkie?

“Hi, Cherry Berry! Not taking the balloon out today?”

“'Fraid not, Pinkie – busted right now. The, um... whatchacallit... the thing that makes the fire, the...”

Hmm... probably just the brain-squeezy field, but...

“Oh, yeah, the... er, what was it... the ig... er...”

“Ignition switch, that's it! Yeah, it's not working for some reason – I've taken it apart five times now and I just can't understand it!”

...she says while scratching her head with one of the screws – that’ll be the field. Still, doesn't rule her out – Chrysalis could have researched Cherry's job.

“Oh, by the way, what's with the ball, Pinks? You looking to take some of my job of transporting ponies?”

“Oh, no, don't worry – wouldn't be room in here anyway, and they'd have to trot too to stay at the bottom. I'm just out doing something.”

“Ah, good – it's bad enough all the pegasi that think they could do my job, but you might actually be able to.”

“Nah, you're fine – hope you can find the problem soon!”

Yep, it’s her. That totally unneeded sense of job insecurity? Unmistakable!

With Pinkie, if ponies saw her trotting around in a big ball of wire mesh, none of them would be more than mildly curious. A few of them might ask her what's up, but it wouldn't take much assurance for them to accept it. Pinkie giggled internally to herself – Twilight was so smart, she could even figure out a way to turn Pinkie's inescapable goofiness to their advantage. She only hoped she could fulfil her part of the plan: to talk to ponies in town and try to figure out who Chrysalis was disguised as, all without attracting her suspicion. Admittedly, the prospect that the changeling queen was as mentally dulled as everypony else made that last part easier, and it wasn't like Pinkie was unsure of her knowledge of the ponies in town. However, she'd be the first, second and twenty-third to admit that she wasn't always the most observant of ponies, so she had her doubts.

“Hiya, Bon Bon!”

“Hey, Pinkie. What's with the ball?”

Hmm... well, we know Bon Bon wasn't an imposter from the first plan, but she might have been switched out since then.

“Oh, it's nothing, just a little thing I'm doing.”

“You sure? Nothing anypony needs to be concerned about?”

Wow, she must be a little bit less affected by the fooly field as well, or at least too wary for it to totally get rid of her caution. Probably due to her experience in [REDACTED]. So, it's probably her, but I should still check.

“Nopie-dopie, it's fine. How's Lyra?”

“Oh... oh, she's as wonderful as ever.”

Aaand there's the goofy smile. Wonder if she knows just how powerful their love is. Eh, probably!

Pinkie shook her head as she gave Bon Bon a gentle smile before trotting on. Sure, she might not be that observant, but she had to try – if nothing else, for Twilight's sake. She had to justify her friend's only-slightly-inexplicable trust in her ability to figure stuff out. No matter how much she suspected she wouldn't be able to satisfy her, just the thought of the disappointed face Twilight would make if – and she made sure to burn into her brain that it was if, not when – she realized her faith had been misplaced was too much for Pinkie. It was enough to make her vow to move mountains, shift stars and push planets if it would keep her brilliant friend smiling. She just hoped that even that amount of force could keep her on task.

“Watch out for that sign, Ditzy!”

“Huh? Oh, thanks, Pinkie! Sorry, I'm in a bit of a rush!”

Okay, not too weird for her, still, let's just keep looking for something wrong.

“No problem. Though... your route should be done by now, right? Was there a delay?”

“Huh? No, I just got some super-fresh muffins from Sugarcube Corner and I need to get home to put them in the fridge as soon as I can!”

Nope, that's Ditzy Doo, alright! No imposter in the world could fake that expression about muffins. Shame I can't take time to correct her about where muffins go. Oh well!

As Pinkie waved the wobbly pegasus off, she sighed. So far, everypony she'd talked to had either definitely been themselves or, at the very least, been a competent enough impersonator that she'd need to talk with them longer if she wanted to find them out. Admittedly, she hadn't talked to anywhere near a majority of the town's inhabitants yet – even she could only speak to so many ponies so quickly – but she couldn't shake the concern about what would happen if she couldn't find the imposter. After all, even if Chrysalis wasn't at her full intellectual capacity, they couldn't rely on her screwing up. She was an old and powerful changeling, so she could have deep enough instincts to keep up a decent facade. Pinkie just had to hope she'd notice any minor slip-ups.

“Hey there, Lemon Hearts! How are you today?”

“Oh, just as much of a totally normal pony as I was yesterday!”

To her credit, when Pinkie tripped over herself at that response, she only rolled around the metal ball's interior twice before she untangled herself and arrested both her and the ball's movement with a few slowing trots. Still, she didn't immediately respond, instead staring at Lemon Hearts, her mind sputtering as the pregnant pause continued.

What? I... er...

“O... kay, then. Oh, by the way, I'm sorry about getting your usual wrong today and... thanks for trying to spare my feelings about it.”

“For what? What do you... Oh! Oh, right, yes, of course! Well, you are welcome, but you had better not make that mistake again, lest I wreak my vengeance upon you, as any regular pony would!”

Another pregnant pause stretched out between them, quickly passing through the stages of disturbance and suspicion and into the third trimester of complete confusion.

That... she... she couldn't be this... could she? Well, maybe if I...

“Oh, that won't be a problem – right after you left, I remembered how much you love br- er, brittle! Peanut brittle, right?”

“Of course! Peanut... brittle... truly the most wondrous and divine of pony foods and the one I would be happy to disgustingl- delightfully mash and digest all day.”

...despite Lemon's allergy to peanuts, hatred at how they taste and the hideous peanut trauma she suffered when she was five. But, I mean, even if that all wasn't true, you're still definitely not... wow, Chrysalis really is this...

And just like that, the pregnant pause gave birth to a bouncing baby epiphany. And like most newborns, it was greeted into this world with a slap – in this case, applied by Pinkie to her own forehead.

Fortunately, she was able to play it off with a shake of the head. “Of course – peanut brittle! I'll definitely remember that next time, I promise. I just hope I don't make any more mistakes, at least until I finish Twilight's task – it's way too important!”

“Oh? And what has that intolerable, meddling nuisance come up with this time?” 'Lemon Hearts' asked with an imperious sniff.

“Oh, only the most superest-duperest important of things – an item of such incredible power that it has to be protected at all times to stop anypony unauthorized from getting to it.”

Pinkie took a quiet breath in and prepared for any questions about the story: Why did this 'protection' look so thin and breachable? Wouldn't it be better to transport it at night, so the incredibly visible transport wouldn't attract attention? Why wasn't Twilight herself escorting it? These and many more potential questions had been brainstormed by Twilight and Pinkie and had convincing answers worked out for them that Pinkie was ready to give, but...

“Incredible... power, you say?” 'Lemon' had paused mid-eye-roll to say that. There was a moment's silence before she looked back at Pinkie, an unmistakable desire in her eyes. “What, er... what sort of power are we talking about?”

...but if Chrysalis just bought it immediately, that was fine and, at this point, only slightly surprising.

Pinkie smiled, finding it easy to fake her excitement at what she was describing because she was so genuinely excited that Twilight had come up with such a good idea. “Oh, it's a jewel that contains a whole lot of power from each of the princesses,” she pulled a small emerald out of her mane, the gem glowing with a shifting, multicoloured light, “and their magic in particular – solar magic from Celestia, lunar magic from... heheh, Luna, love magic from Cadance and friendship magic from Twilight. I, um... I don't know if Flurry Heart's got anything in there too or what it'd be, but it'd definitely be big.”

Internally, Pinkie braced herself – this was the moment of truth! If Chrysalis saw through the ruse – finding it suspicious how powerful such a thing would be; how perfectly it fit what Chrysalis would want; how she should have been able to sense such power or even that she recognized the illusion put on the gem – this would all be for nothing. Pinkie just hoped their theories about Chrysalis were correct.

The drool 'Lemon Hearts' was producing was, Pinkie thought, a very good sign. Even if it did make her wonder where the drool came from when a changeling was transformed, something she resolved to ask Thorax about the next time she saw him.

“Can... can I, maybe... take a look at that jewel?” 'Lemon' asked, holding a hoof out as if she expected to simply be given it.

“Mmm, I dunno,” Pinkie made a show of being conflicted. “Twilight said it was absolutely, positively, under all circumstances supposed to stay in this protective ball. And, well, I don't think there's room for both of us in here...”

“Well... maybe you could come out so I could come in and take a look.” 'Lemon' thought for a moment before her eyes widened as an idea clearly came to her. Her lips stretched out into a smile that probably felt devilish and subtle to her. “Actually, how about you tell me where you're taking it and I could... 'deliver' it for you... I promise it'll get exactly where it needs to go.”

“Oh, okay!” Pinkie did her best to keep her own smile as unsuspicious as possible – something she wasn't used to having to try to do, but was, she hoped, able to use her general smiling experience to cover. She reached over and opened the hatch that had rolled to the side of the ball. She then placed the jewel down on the metal beneath her before springing up and hopping through the hatch without otherwise disturbing the ball. As soon as she landed, she dashed up to the side and put her hooves against it to hold it in place. “Okay, you can go in now.”

“Excellent!” 'Lemon Hearts' said as she strolled up to the ball. “Perhaps we ponies are good for something after all!”

With that, she clambered in through the hatch, with far more scrabbling and stumbling than Pinkie had needed, but before long she was inside and getting to her feet. However, before she'd even risen halfway, her horn was lighting up with that conspicuously green corona and lifting the jewel to her eyes. As it did, her face scrunched up in confusion. “That's odd – I can't sense any love in this... or much magic at all...”

“Oh, that's cause Twilight did a whole bunch of concealment magic to hide everything. That's why nopony could sense it while I was moving it,” Pinkie replied, happy that she'd been asked at least one of the questions they'd predicted, so the time preparing for them hadn't been a waste. “Don't worry, Chryssie – it's there, I promi-”

Pinkie slammed her mouth shut, the hebetation effect not yet strong enough for her to miss the slip-up it had made her make. Her hoof darted up to the hatch, half-panicked.

“Very well, then, I suppose I'll just have t- wait, what did you cal-” was all she got out before Pinkie slammed the hatch shut and flicked the latch closed.

When Pinkie had entered Twilight's magical isolation room and been cut off from Chrysalis's magical aura, regaining her faculties had been a gentle, quiet process that she hadn't even noticed.

This wasn't like that at all – as soon as the Fair Day cage closed and the field was cut off at the source, a huge wave flew out as the magic vanished – nothing was visible or audible, but Pinkie felt it. And looking around, she saw that not only had everypony else felt it too, but they were all blinking, thinking about what they'd been doing or saying and realizing how strange it had been.

“Er, Written Script?”

“Yes, Madam Mayor?”

“Is it just me or is the majority of the budgeting we've done so far... complete mathematical gibberish?”

“It does look like it, Ma'am.”

“So, we're going to have to start over again, aren't we?”

“Assuming we want the town to function, Ma'am.”

“It's going to be another all-nighter, isn't it?”

“Most likely, Ma'am.”

“Will our current coffee expenditures cover it?”

“Oh, not remotely, Ma'am – I'll pencil in a bigger payment.”

“Okay – I'll put the machine on.”

“Thank you, Ma'am.”

“Oh... oh my… Merciful heavens! I... I... I am so sorry, Vinyl!” Octavia stared down at the cake in horror and bafflement. While her realization wasn't as bad as it could have been – enough had been eaten that it now read “PY HDAY VINEL”, so technically, two thirds of the mistakes had gone unnoticed – the fact that she hadn't noticed the misspelling of the birthday mare's name made her feel sick to her soul with guilt. “How could I... why wouldn't... Oh, I am so, so s-”

She was cut off when Vinyl pressed a hoof against her mouth. With a completely neutral expression, she lit her horn, making Octavia's heart feel like it had clenched into the size of a pea. Surrounded by a magical aura, the cake knife lifted above the cake before slamming down and up twice, carving out a piece. A moment later, the slice was lifted next to Vinyl's head, displaying to the mortified Octavia the offending E... before Vinyl gave her a grin and chomped down on it, biting off the whole top of the cake and making the typo vanish.

Octavia let out a breath and wiped the beginnings of tears from her eyes. “I... thank you,” she said, resolving to make next year's birthday even better, unaware Vinyl had decided the same for her birthday long ago.

“Hey... wait...” Ditzy looked down at the box of muffins in her hoof, then back up to the open fridge. After a moment, she let out a quiet giggle. “Oh, silly Derpy!” she said to herself, laughing at both the nickname and its appropriateness in that moment. “Muffins don't go in the fridge.” She closed the door and nodded firmly.

“They go in my mouth!”

The only sounds that followed were those of happy gluttony.

In fact, it seemed to Pinkie that the only one who didn't notice something change was 'Lemon Hearts' herself. Which made sense, she supposed.

“Ah, thank you,” she said as the click of the closing hatch faded. “Now, then, what did you call me?”

“Chyrssie. You don't like that nickname? How about Lissie? Sally? Maybe Chryssa or Ryssa if you're not into the whole '-ie' ending, or...”

“What? I...” 'Lemon' blinked in confusion – unless she'd just gained a huge amount of acting talent, Pinkie was sure she was failing to connect her words to both her assumed name and, somehow, her real name. “What are you talking about, you puerile peasant?!”

“Er, hey, you okay there, Lemon Hearts?” Golden Harvest asked, trotting over from her market stall with a confused and concerned look. “You, er... don't exactly sound like yourself. Everything alright?” She looked around at the many ponies now gathering around the odd sight of a mare they knew acting like this inside a big metal ball.

“What? Of course, I am okay and alright and myself, as any completely normal pony would be!”

“Yeeeeah, that's not Lemon Hearts,” Lyra said, drawing hesitant nods from the ponies around her – not that they doubted what she'd said, just that it felt weird to agree with Lyra when she made that kind of assertion. “Not even if she was messed up – she's either been possessed or replaced by a changeling or something.”

“Oh, don't be ridiculous, my delicious and nutritious friends!” 'Lemon' called out desperately, drawing murmurs and raised eyebrows from the crowd. “A changeling?! How could I possibly be a changeling, let alone the changeling queen? That's just...”

“Changeling... Queen?!” Cherry Berry cried out, sending another murmur rippling through the gathered ponies – not quite a full panic, but certainly the beginnings of one. “You mean...”

“Queen Chrysalis!” Twilight's voice rang out from a short distance away, cutting through the burgeoning fear like a guillotine, instantly dispelling the urge to flee. The townsponies may have been wary of Twilight at times during regular life, but there was no doubt that if there was anypony who could handle town-to-world-threatening menaces, it was her. “The game's up! You may as well reveal yourself!”

“nnnnnggggGGGGGNNNNNOOOOOOO!” As she cried out in fury, green flames erupted around the mare in the metal bubble, flickering and expanding rapidly until they faded to reveal the distinctive chitin of the changeling queen.

Who, being much, much larger than the mare she'd been impersonating, was now being squeezed into a space barely big enough for her, her hooves and head compressed into unnatural angles by the spherical cage. Still, she didn't seem that bothered by the position.

“I don't understand!” She fidgeted her head around until she was looking at Twilight. “How could you... how could anyone see through my foolproof deception?”

Twilight shook her head, her shoulders high and her smile proud. “Oh, it wasn't easy – your hebetation field was quite a challenge to overcome, but a bit of ingenuity,” she glanced over to Pinkie, her pride only increasing, “was enough to carry the day.”

“Hebe... ta... hebetate... what are you talking about?! The only 'field' I have interest in is the field of pod-bound feeding sacks your kind will one day be reduced to.”

“Huh?” Twilight's smile vanished as she tilted her head. “That's what Thorax called... you know, how you were messing with all of our minds?”

“Don't be ridiculous! Everyling knows ponies don't have minds, any more than any other cattle do.”

“The heck'd you say about cows?!” Applejack called out, offended on behalf of her friends who would have without doubt spoken up themselves if they were present.

Chrysalis didn't seem to notice, however. “And, as easy as it is to override your pitiful wills and dictate your actions, it would hardly be worth it to do that one at a time when I can simply blend in as one of you.”

“You mean... you don't know...” Pinkie said, more to herself than to the ranting changeling. “So that means...”

“Now then, answer my question: how could you... any of you have seen through my flawless disguise?”

“Flawless?!” Twilight blurted out, flinching back from the sheer force of bafflement. “You do know it was only because of the stupi-”

“The stupendous majesty of the true ruler of the changelings,” Pinkie interrupted forcefully, shooting Twilight an apologetic look as she spoke, “that can barely be contained at the best of times, that we saw the real you.” Turning around, making sure that Chrysalis couldn't see her right eye, Pinkie used it to give Twilight a wink.

“Er... yes, exactly!” Twilight said, instantly regaining her steady demeanour. “Your guise of one of us... mere ponies was almost enough to fool us, but you just couldn't fully suppress your true... queenly sovereignty.”

Pinkie grinned, happy that she'd been right about how quickly Twilight would get what she was doing – if Chrysalis was genuinely unaware of her mental field, it'd be better if she didn't learn about it, and if she was aware, it'd be better if she didn't know they were too. Of course, not knowing about the field either, none of the other ponies around them knew why they'd said that, but that just made it feel better to Pinkie – like it was her little secret with Twilight.

Instead, from the looks of the crowd, they all just assumed Twilight and Pinkie were making fun of Chrysalis. Which was also true.

And Chrysalis herself? She was smiling and preening... an effect only slightly hindered by her being squashed inside a wireframe sphere. “Ah, the horrible burden of the true master of all. I suppose I'll have to work on being less magnificent... even if I truly don't know how. However, all of that can wait until I am safe. Savour this petty victory, feeble dolts,” she said as she sent a bolt of magic at the ball's hatch, “for when next we meet, it shall be... huh?” she blinked as the magic impacted and diffused along the mesh. “What?!” She sent another couple of magical waves over the hatch, trying to undo the lock and open it, only for both to similarly fail. “What is going on?!”

“Fair Day cage!” Twilight explained, smirking as Chrysalis continued to try desperately to open her escape route. “Any magic that hits it gets diffused into the metal. And it blocks the magical transmission of teleportation and, even if you can break through it, you lack the leverage to do so before the guard show up. Face it, Chrysalis – you're beaten this ti- what are you doing?” She asked, wary of the bright light now emanating from Chysalis's horn, indicative of a massive spell.

“Foolish pony – do you not know the true tower of genius before you? If any magic gets spread around it, all I need to do is flood it with enough heat to melt it all away, and I shall be free of your pitiful attempt at a trap!”

“But, er...” Pinke spoke up, averting her eyes from the light as ponies around her retreated to a safe distance, “but you're inside the metal...”

“So?” Chrysalis laughed as she manoeuvred herself to touch her horntip to the hatch. “Once it's all melted, I'll be able to get out of here long before... it... wait...”

There was a flash of light, a FWOOM of noise and a wave of heat from the ball, all of which got Pinkie to throw a hoof over her face to shield herself. A second later, though, it had all faded and she looked cautiously over the top of her foreleg. To her side, she saw Twilight, a magical shield bubble around her, staring in astonishment at what was before her, an expression Pinkie knew she shared.

Standing upright in front of them was Chrysalis, her posture straight and her eyes wide, but most of her hidden by the molten metal spattered along her horn, covering her back and head, and dribbling down her neck and legs.

For a brief, hanging instant, everyone stood there, the only sound heard that of superheated metal hissing against chitin.

Eventually, Pinkie felt the need to speak up. “So, are y-”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGH!”

The moment broken, Chrysalis began screaming and running around frantically and randomly.

“OH NO OH DEAR OH GODDESS OF ALL THINGS UNHOLY THIS IS UNSPEAKABLY PAINFUL AND IT'S EVERYWHERE AND IT'S IN MY EYES AND ALL MY HOLES AND OH GODDESS NO IT'S HARDENING WHAT DO I DO WHAT DO I... AH! A BI' GO' IN MY 'OUTH!”

Throughout her mad panicking and running around, Pinkie and Twilight had just trotted up to each other, watching the spectacle in horrified fascination.

As Chrysalis continued to scream and babble – as much as one can with a tongue burned by molten iron – Pinkie looked at Twilight. “She... does remember she can teleport now, ri- mph!” she threw a hoof over her mouth, as if trying to contain the words after they'd left her mouth.

Unfortunately, it seemed that, even through the pain, Chrysalis heard Pinkie accidentally give her advice. “What? I mean, yes!” She stamped a hoof down, clearly pushing through the pain until the tears in her eyes and stiffness of her tongue were the only signs. “Of course I did! I was merely... lulling you into a false sense of security. Especially as I still have...” she held up the glowing, useless gem Pinkie had first lured her with, “your crystal of power. And with it, soon you will know your true master. AHAHAHAH- AAK!”

Her monologue was interrupted when the glob of now-solid metal that had fallen into her mouth flew back into her throat, sending her into a series of choking coughs. She tried to move a hoof to hit her chest, only to find the metal around her now solid enough to stop her. So, on the third cough, she simply lit her horn and vanished, the offending metal dropping to the ground.

There was a long period of silence as the two mares came to terms with what they'd seen.

“She... she didn't even realize it was...” Twilight muttered to herself.

“I'm sorry, Twilight,” Pinkie said, slumping down. “If I hadn't given her that idea, we could maybe have stopped that meanie-shell for good. And I didn't even have her dummy-field as an excuse that time.”

“No, but if it helps, I was literally about to say pretty much the same thing.”

Pinkie blinked and looked up again. “You were?”

“Yep,” Twilight shrugged. “I guess witnessing idiocy can be as stupefying as having it inflicted on you.”

Pinkie nodded before a thought occurred. “Yeah, about that – I thought you said the field was only up when she was transformed. If she was affected, wouldn't she have stopped being after a while when she transformed back?”

“Yes, I did... yes, she would,” Twilight said, a little distantly. “I... I think maybe... maybe she wasn't affected after all.”

“You mean that... that was all her?” Pinkie asked, her mouth twitching up into a smile due to being too confused to do anything else.

“I think so.” Twilight shook her head. “I guess it's true what they say – the artificial stuff just can't compare with what's naturally produced. I never thought that sentiment would apply to stupidity, but, well... Chrysalis.”

Pinkie nodded as the two stared, deep in thought, at what was left of her exit – the partial, hollow, metal mould of a large changeling's body, currently standing in Ditzy Doo's garden.

The structure would, for the next few days, remain there due to the home's owner having no idea what to do about it, until a passing art collector saw it and immediately offered her five thousand bits for it. Ditzy would try her best to explain the situation, how it wasn't any kind of art and just happened to come about and wasn't worth buying, but every attempt just got him to raise his asking price, until the bewildered mare felt compelled to accept out of sheer awkwardness. An hour later, the statue would be gone, a check for thirty thousand bits would be in her hooves, and she would shake her head and go inside to think about the presents she could get for Dinky's birthday that year.

In the moment, however, it simply stood there, so Pinkie eventually looked away and at Twilight. “Well, at least she's gone and everypony's safe,” she said as she looked over, seeing ponies moving a pod containing an unconscious Lemon Hearts out of her house and towards the hospital. After a moment's thought, though, Pinkie's shoulders slumped again. “Though... I guess you really didn't need me at all, huh?”

Twilight didn't immediately respond, her face not moving at all besides blinking. After a few seconds, her forehead scrunched up. “I'm... sorry, did we have two completely different adventures just now? Because as far as I can see, you've unquestionably proven your worth.”

Pinkie sighed, not even feeling motivated to look at Twilight. “How? She gave herself away – that wasn't on me. And this whole plan – using the cage, asking around to find her, luring her into going into the ball – that was all you. Every step was totally right and you came up with them all. I mean, duh, of course you did,” she waved a hoof in Twilight's direction with a wan smile. “I mean, let's face it, no matter how many brains I have or don't have, you're just a genius-”

“...who almost gave away a key piece of tactical information without thinking just now – something you recognized and stopped. Unless you're going to tell me it was a coincidence that you cut me off before I could let on about Chrysalis's field and our awareness of it.”

Pinkie scoffed, shaking her head. “So? You had an off moment – happens to the best of us. I mean, you just kinda proved that.”

Twilight let out a shaky hum, and Pinkie didn't have to look to see the discomfort on her face. “Pinkie, I... I can't help but think you might be putting me on something of a pedestal.”

Despite her mood, Pinkie couldn't help a snorting smile. “What, you? The ultra-wizard who mastered friendship enough to become an alicorn princess? How could I possibly look up to you?!” After a moment, her face fell again. “Besides, even if you weren't as smart as you totally are, that... that doesn't make me smart, does it? And, I mean, I tried to come up with clever plans twice, remember? And both times, they fizzled like a drowning dragon. I was no help.”

Twilight sighed, her hoof twitching as Pinkie could see it wanting to go up to massage her temple and being prevented, presumably so Twilight wouldn't feel like she was validating Pinkie's assertions by getting annoyed at her. “They both failed, yes, but because we had both massively misread who we were dealing with. You're not dumb for not taking into account information we didn't have. Besides, both of those came from ideas that I had and y-”

Twilight cut herself off suddenly, her eyes widening while Pinkie flinched back slightly, only for both to hang in their new positions for a couple of seconds. And then, Twilight got a very specific face.

It was a face that anyone who'd been around Twilight for long would be familiar with – the face that meant she'd had an idea and was rapidly constructing a plan. This produced mixed feelings in Pinkie – she was conditioned to see it as nothing but a good thing that Twilight had had another brilliant thought, but when that happened in an argument, it generally didn't bode well for her opponent's chance of winning.

Fortunately, Pinkie was saved from having to consider why she was trying to win this argument by Twilight speaking up.

“Pinkie? What's the answer to life, the universe and everything?”

“42!” Pinkie answered with a giggle – whatever else was going on in her mind, Pinkie couldn't help but laugh when she thought about one of her favourite books.

Twilight nodded slightly. “And what does that mean?”

“Mean? It... what do you mean 'mean'?” Pinkie asked, looking at Twilight askance. “It's just funny, isn't it?”

“Oh, it definitely is that, though there is a deeper thing being said. But I mean, in the world of the book – what can we learn, understand or extrapolate from the answer being 42?”

“Well,” Pinkie tapped her hoof against her chin, part of her mind pinning the previous exchange in place in case Twilight was trying to distract her, but mostly trying to think of something. After a few seconds, though, she shrugged. “Nothing, I think. I mean, we never find out for sure what the question is, so we can't really tell anything.”

“Exactly!” Twilight flicked a pointing hoof at her with a smile. “Because that's the larger point being made with that: no matter how philosophically you try to think, the fact is that, if you don't know what specific question you're asking, then trying to find the answer is pointless. Even if you did find the answer, it wouldn't mean anything to you – you'd lack the context to know what to do with it or maybe even recognize it. Ultimately, no matter how brilliant an answer it is, without a question, it might as well just be... 42.”

Pinkie nodded along with Twilight's explanation, seeing what she was saying well enough. However...

“That's really interesting, Twilight, but I don't see what it has to do with us.”

Twilight's smile just got wider and surer as she looked at Pinkie. “It's an illustration. It shows how, if you want to come up with good answers, you have to ask the right questions. And you,” she gave Pinkie a gentle poke on the nose, “asked exactly the right questions.”

“I...” Pinkie's muzzle scrunched, due to what Twilight had both said and done, even though neither felt bad. “I did?”

“You did!” Twilight replied with absolute certainty. “You asked what Chrysalis's previous plans had been and questioned whether she was as smart as we were assuming. You asked if she would slip enough for someone protected from her field to notice and suggested we could just look for her. You asked about the Fair Day cage and brought up the idea of taking it out of the basement.”

“Well, yeah – those questions were pretty obvious if you think about it,” Pinkie said, but was cut off before she could open her mouth again.

“Most things I do are obvious to me. That's kind of how intelligence works – if you're smart enough for things to be easy for you, they seem easy to you.”

“But... but...” Pinkie swallowed hard, shaking her head. “You totally would have-”

“Not even considered those questions for a very, very long time, if ever. Pinkie,” Twilight's smile gained a helpless, self-effacing quality that Pinkie wanted desperately to wipe away, “like you, I know some of my limits. I am perfectly aware... painfully aware of how easily and often I can get so focused on figuring out an answer, I don't even think about analysing the question I'm asking or the base precepts and assumptions I'm starting from. And that's why I needed you.

“You see, when I said that, if I had to choose one ally to work with, I'd choose you over anypony else, I probably should have made clear why. It wasn't because you were necessarily smarter than any of the other options... though if you're not, you're darn close. No, it's because the ways in which you're smart fit around and complement the ways I am.”

“Ways?” Pinkie tapped a hoof against the ground, not disagreeing with Twilight but just thinking about what she was saying.

Twilight nodded. “Pinkie, there are a lot of different kinds of intelligence. There are ways in which I think I can confidently say I'm pretty smart – logic, rationality and knowledge. Are you necessarily smarter than me in those areas? Perhaps not, though I still wouldn't say you're close to stupid in them.

“But there are other kinds. There's collaborative intelligence – the ability to work well with others, which you're at least as smart about as me. There's social intelligence – how well you can read and talk to others, which you're definitely smarter about than me, even with the odd hiccup. There's emotional intelligence and maturity... which, to be honest, I think we could both use a bit more of,” she shot Pinkie a sardonic smirk, allowing them to share a momentary laugh before she continued. “And most of all, there's creative intelligence – coming up with ideas, seeing things from different perspectives and asking questions others wouldn't even think about. And that is where you shine, and I truly can't imagine thinking you didn't.”

Pinkie sighed and looked away, her gut rebelling at what she was hearing, but her mouth unable to come up with anything to say back.

After a moment, though, she felt a hoof land on her shoulder. “Pinkie, I'm not going to deny that you're a silly, goofy mare. You're an innocent mare, truly embracing your inner child. You're a confusing, kinda-crazy mare at times. But none of those things are the same as being stupid. You're not an idiot; you have an incredible mind. And while, individually, our brains are formidable in different ways... when we work together, enhancing each other's strengths and shoring up each other's weaknesses? Together, we can be unstoppable.”

Pinkie let out a sigh even as a thin smile came onto her muzzle – even if she wasn't sure what Twilight was saying was true, she couldn't deny that the idea made her heart feel lighter than air, stronger than steel and warmer than dragonfire.

After a moment, she felt Twilight's hoof move as she stepped closer, wrapping Pinkie's neck in a half-hug. “It's okay, Pinkie – I know I'm not totally convincing you. Self-image doesn't just change overnight and I'm not going to instantly cure your insecurities in one conversation. So, all I'll ask is this: please believe me,” Pinkie felt a hoof gently take hold of her chin, “believe that I'm not trying to flatter you, I'm not saying this just to cheer you up, I am being truly, absolutely honest and serious when I tell you...”

Pinkie let her head be pulled to the side to see the sincerity in Twilight's eyes.

“...when I tell you that I wouldn't trade your bright, baffling, beautiful brain for all the professors in Canterlot.”

The two stayed there for a moment, letting the statement stand and echo through their ears and minds.

Then, once she seemed certain it had fully registered, Twilight pulled Pinkie in for a full hug. Despite having just dominated the conversation, she went in for the lower position, letting Pinkie rest her head on Twilight's straight, stable mane while she nestled her head in the crook of Pinkie's neck and buried her muzzle in the fluffy cascade that fell to her shoulders.

Pinkie let out a soft, satisfied breath, the hug providing the perfect punctuation to the discussion. She still couldn't convince herself that Twilight was right but, after that declaration, she couldn't justify not at least trying to reconcile it with what she knew of herself.

Me? Smart? Just seems so silly... though I guess it would, wouldn't it? And, well... no matter how weird it sounds.... it was Twilight who told me it was true, and she's definitely the smartest smarty who ever smarted her smarts. So maybe... just maybe...

Finally, without any hesitation or risk of faltering, a big, long-lasting, uncomplicated smile made its way back onto Pinkie's face – far calmer and gentler than her usual smiles, but no less genuine.

Maybe I can take her word for it.