Twilight is Mysophobic
Editing/Proofreading: Hoosier Brony
Mysophobia: Mysophobia is the fear of contamination such as germs and dirt; being unclean
Twilight quickly paced around her room with her sponge and a gallon of Clorox in hoof, gifted to her by yours truly, Colgate. She hastily sprayed the light colored oak wood within the library and scrubbed rapidly in hopes of ridding the room of any bacteria in its existence. "I mustn't spend too much time in here cleaning," she thought out loud while she continued to scrub the walls of her book shelf, not forgetting to use her anti-bacterial spray on her books and its contents, "but this is a start. Soon, I could move over to my room." Thoroughly, and quickly, she continued throughout her house, muttering under her breath in the midst of the night.
Keeping all of her windows shut, the house would be getting humid soon. There needed to be a sort of ventilation, or she and Spike will begin to sweat. "Gross," Twilight said at the thought of sweating. Just thinking about it made her want to take a shower, her fifth shower of the night.
The wind was pounding against the door, giving the illusion that somepony was knocking at this hour of the night, but her light was on, and a wanderer may be in need of direction. Still, it was just the wind; Twilight knew that as she ignored the door and continued her clean sweep around the house.
Her horn illuminated a purple glow, as she scanned the house for any bacterial growth. The kitchen, the bathroom, the walls, ceiling, fans, under the shades of lamps, you name it.
With a sigh of relief, Twilight finally decided that she could start on the room tomorrow. However, her room still wasn't disinfected, nor was Spike. Therefore, her room was unsanitary, and she couldn't risk any germs leaving that area. Her room must be cleaned, but how? If she went up to the room, her hoofs would become filthy and congregated with its filth.
This required some deep thinking. She could, theoretically, teleport in the room, do her cleaning, and teleport to the bathroom and take a shower, but that couldn't possibly work. Could it? This left Twilight stumped on what to do. At this hour, her body cried out for sleep and rest, but her brain and conscious just wanted to clean that room and be done with it, just as she has done with many of her studies.
"Think, Twilight, think!" She muttered to herself while she rubbed her temples with her hoofs. The frustration brewed inside of her, and she wanted to scream. The idea that this is the only clean part of the house was intolerable. She needed to clean that room, check it, and double check it with her magic, but there would be no possible way to do so without leaving another mess behind. Teleporting out is not an option. It leaves dirt on the flooring, and that in itself is gross.
The front door continued to be pounded by wind. She could hear the wind whistling outside as if it were asking her to open the door. Pounding. More pounding. It began to annoy her just as much as being unable to clean the top floor.
The pounding didn't sound like pounding anymore than it did sound like the wind outside was, in fact, teasing her. Teasing her that she could clean the top floor.
The wind whistled once more outside, this time a branch hit a window which startled Twilight at first, but she decided being afraid of a branch was silly.
She sat in the middle of the lit room, waiting for an answer to just come to her. Then, an idea came. Not an idea to solve the problem, but an idea which may lead to a probable solution.
With haste, Twilight darted out of the main library room to find herself in her study's basement. Already cleaned, she walked down the staircase, content with her work.
She sat behind a podium on a wooden stool, and began writing her letter to her mentor; Celestia, the great ruler crowned princess of Equestria, and goddess of the sun.
Checking her quills' end to make sure its tip wasn't dull, she started.
Dear Princess Celestia,
I have recently furthered my studies in microbiology, and I have made a discovery as to why people get sick, but could be easily cured by just a simple remedy of herbs, or a cinch elixir. Twilight paused for a moment. She thought she heard something from upstairs, but figured it to be the sound of branches and wind pounding against her doors and bark of the somehow still living tree.
She continued.
Bacteria. Something that I have found to be everywhere! From your coat, shower head, even as far as the ground we stand on! It's everywhere and could easily be spread just by the things we touch!
However, that is not the point. I've already scrubbed down the entire library, and performed germ checks on every spot I could find within this vicinity. However, I have failed to clean my room. You see, I've started from bottom to top, but teleporting would leave dirt on the ground, and could remain permanent if not treated. The dirt emitted from the spell could also be habitable to the microscopic pests.
Her quill jerked to a stop when she swore she heard something coming from upstairs. Small pitter patters of steps, perhaps?
She became slightly irritated of the distractions around her working area. She needed to implement soundproof walls so she could work in peace, and have the occasional breakdown without worrying that somepony from outside would hear her.
The idea was quickly obliterated to oblivion when she figured that the new walls would become infested with germs, and cleaning them would require a hazmat suit. Keeping the hazmat suit indoors, which would also be infested with germs, would be intolerable, so there would just be no space. It would have to be burnt, and the ashes teleported to Tartarus.
The light that trickled in from the space under the light colored wooden door began to grow a shadow. Of course, Twilight hadn't noticed it for she is on the lower end of the studies room. The door creaked open, and a sleep deprived Spike tumbled in, eyes wanting to force themselves shut, and body begging for sleep. Still, he resisted and called, "Twilight?"
Twilight jumped from the sudden introduction Spike made. She wanted to tell him to get some rest, but Spike came from her room. He's contaminated.
Without a second thought, her horn illuminated a purple glow, and directed her magic towards Spike. He let out a quick yelp as he was lifted to the air, and Twilight hastily moved her way towards the stairs, to greet the purple baby dragon.
"Spike," she called from below, "what are you doing up? Twilight asked, but hadn't forgotten about the most important thing. "Even more importantly, where did you step?"
Spike, still drowsy from his lack of sleep, couldn't really come up with an answer. Instead, he mumbled, "Hunnuh wah?"
Twilight was not in front of him. "Where did you step Spike? Where? Backtrack your steps! I'll levitate you, and you tell me where to go." Spike did not respond to that. He just pointed to the direction, not really caring anymore. Frankly, he found the levitation to be very relaxing, and at any given moment, should he lose concentration, he would fall right asleep.
Twilight noticed that. Like a timer, Spike's hand slowly moved down the more he got tired, and she figured that as soon as it reached perpendicular with the ground, he'd be asleep. So not wasting any time, she grabbed her Clorox and sponge, and was ready to do some scrubbing.
Following Spike's hand, she found herself walking into many walls, and had to force Spike to change direction to clear the rest of his spots. Edging around tables, going behind book shelves, above them, on the ladder, and finally it led to the stairs from which he came.
A weak smile broke across Twilight's face when she felt that she was finally finished cleaning his traces. "Is that it?" asked the tired Twilight, still levitating all three of them. She could feel the excitement in her stomach, butterflies, they called it? Her anticipation of hearing that one word to finally conclude her cleaning of the basement and library room was almost too much to handle. Her smile that started weak grew three times larger, now into a large grin, almost sinister or evil.
Spike slowly turned around in his levitational shield; he stood upright now. Still tired, and still levitating, one of his eyes peaked open as he simultaneously lifted up his arm and pointed up as if he were going to make a point. His mouth started to open, and Twilight wanted to bounce around like Pinkie. The excitement that she was feeling was of course, irrational, but to Twilight, it was like watching a suspenseful television show, and one of the main characters is about to make a game-changing discovery. You could see it all happening in front of you too, but the character doesn't see it yet. Just then, as he's about to open the door that will reveal everything, the episode is over and it cuts to commercial. That would best describe Twilight's anticipation.
Except, this isn't a television show. Spike finally open his mouth to speak, and his word nonchalantly spilled out of his mouth as if it didn't matter to him- which it didn't. "No." Those were his last words before he fell into a deep slumber.
Twilight's expression froze. How could she not be done? She cleaned this entire library, twice!
"No... Wait, what? No, this can't be happening. I cleaned this place twice, what did I miss? Well I suppose that if Spike wondered around here, the first cleaning wouldn't have mattered since its been recontaminated. Still, I know I've cleaned it all around the second part. I couldn't have missed anything!" Twilight panicked softly; not wanting to wake Spike from his beauty sleep.
The night isn't over! I could still clean this house, and get some rest! Since I have Spike already levitated, it shouldn't be a matter about cleaning the room! I could still do this! She levitated Spike into the bathroom and placed him in the tub. There could have been a more comfortable area, but she just waxed the floors in the bathroom not too long ago, so she'll have to clean him up first.
She moved the Clorox spray bottle which emitted a dark purple glow, and shook it to test how much of the chemical was left inside. It made a weak swishing sound indicating that there wasn't much left; leaving Twilight regretting that she hadn't bought extra bottles from Colgate, a very clean pony.
Still, she could do what she can. She just needed to ration her uses. Looking again at the bottle, the spray wouldn't work since there's barely enough left to fill a corner. She'd have to do this by droplets. So, that's what she did.
Getting close to the ground of the contaminated floor; not touching the floor itself, yet close enough to scrub the oak flooring vigorously. She uncapped the bottle and let one, and only one, drop spill out of the bottle. Then, she began scrubbing; making the most of the droplet that had been evicted from its bottle.
"I can make this work... I can do this." Twilight muttered. She only had a few more drops left in that bottle, and she has only been through a small portion of her room. Determined to clean at least most of her room, she abided to her problem and continued scrubbing.
Through the scratching noise of the sponge and floor, she could feel herself sweating. Sweating not due to heat, but due to anxiety. She's hovering over a contaminated area, and breathing so close to the floor could allow whatever germs that are loosely attached to take flight and possibly land across her purple coat. She wanted to ignore it, to get what mattered most finished first, but the idea was too conspicuous to simply ignore.
She became irritated. Making grunting noises to emphasis her anger, she grumpily left the room unclean and broke into a gallop towards her shower, which was exactly where she left Spike, the tainted dragon.
With haste, and not thinking- phenomenal for Twilight's personality, she tossed Spike out of the bathroom and urgently turned the knob of the shower to slightly heated water.
She turned the letter to Celestia into a letter to the CDC for a special delivery of hazmat suits, and another letter written to Colgate for a special delivery of Clorox and other cleaning materials such as squeegee's and a book of spells to send microorganisms into a singularity, which will make it easier on Twilight when she needs to clean a large area, such as the library's main room, or the more complicated areas like her studies room.
"Spike, have you seen Twilight lately?" cooed Rarity from across the boutique, working on a new magnificent design for Filthy Rich.
Spike shrugged. He lifted a red ribbon and went over to hand it to Rarity and spilled the words, "Nope, last night, or should I say, a few hours ago, I think she lost her apples!" Spike chuckled to his own amusement.
Rarity had stopped working on her design momentarily to listen. "Oh do go on, Spike."
Spike motioned her to take a seat, as though he didn't see how it started or ended, he surely did have a good point of view, and definitely understood what was going on.
The two ended up in the show room of the boutique, where Rarity shows off her designs in a flashy performance to her new clients, and casually took a seat in the middle of the room. Rarity already had her drama couch at her expense.
Spike made himself comfortable on the other edge of her drama couch, and gladly spoke the six words to describe it all in a jiffy. "I believe that Twilight is mysophobic."
