Bathtime for Ponies

by Derpsanddinks404

Rating: everyone
Tags: Human, Main 6, Comedy, Cutie Mark Crusaders, Other, Random, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 25692

A second-person fic where you give fillies and colts a bath

It's bathtime for some of the young characters, and who else but you gets to wash them? Each filly and colt has a different personality, though, and some of them REALLY hate baths!

Cover by ~strabArybrick on deviantart

Because of the CT limit, I used the "other" tag. But keep in mind that there will be many ponies here.

Published 2012-10-28 18:40:01 UTC
Last updated 2013-01-01 04:18:59 UTC

Pinkie Pie

With the bathtub finally full of warm water, you decide it's time to call her in.

"Pinkie!" you call from the bathroom.

An impossibly few seconds later a pink party filly appears at the door. Pinkie smiles cutely at you, then notices the tub of water. When she finally processes in her little mind what she was there for, she jumps up with her mouth open and dashes out the door, leaving a temporary silhouette of dust where she stood.

You sigh deeply, going over in your head the millions of places she could be hiding. As you exit the bathroom and walk into the kitchen, you see on the counter a huge cake, bigger than a filly, with the lettering "NO BATHS!" written on top. You mumble under your breath that now it'll take longer to wash the cake out of her mane.

"C'mon Pinkie, you need a bath, now more than ever!" you say as you reach into the cake and pull out a pink, fluffy tail attached to a frosting-covered Pinkie Pie. She smiles at you guiltily, hoping you'll be merciful on her. You smile back, unable to stay mad at such a cute little pink and white mess.

You carry her by her tail into the bathroom and place her in the tub. At least, you thought you placed her in their, but when you blink she's suddenly right next to you! You brush off the weird incident, blaming your recent lack of sleep, and pick her up and put her in again. You blink twice and shake your head, absolutely certain you put her in, but she's yet again right next to you, this time smiling like that Internet meme you saw earlier called a "troll"!

This time you're angry, face turning light red as you give her a stare. She wipes the smile off her face and jumps into the tub herself, splashing a little water onto you. You resist the urge to yell once you see her guilty-looking face, which was almost sad. You cheer up and get the brush next to you.

You squirt some shampoo on the dirty filly and start to lather it throughout her mane. She giggles at the tickling sensation and splashes the water with her front hooves. The smell of the cotton candy shampoo mixes with the smell of frosting, filling the air with a sweet aroma. You close your eyes to sniff and fully enjoy the scent, and then open your eyes to find your hands lathering air!

A bit of panic fills your gut as you look around the room to find Pinkie. You eventually see her swinging from the shower curtain's bar, and the panic grows bigger! You jump up and grab the filly, scolding her for doing something so unsafe. You place her back in the bath and scoop up some water in cupped hands to rinse the shampoo.

When you spill the water over the party filly's hair, it unpoofs and turns straight, startling the little pony. You continue to pour water over her head, careful to get every single bit of frosting and suds out. After about ten rinses, her mane finally looks decent. When she looks at the straight locks covering one of her eyes, she closes her eyes and puffs up her cheeks. This confuses you, and when you start to ask what she's doing, you hear a *POOF* and her hair becomes puffy again!

"What?!" you exclaim in disbelief, putting both palms up halfway in the air in a gesture of wonder. "What was that? Idon'tevenknow," you finally mutter as you get back to work on the giggling pony.

Next, you work on her tail. You reach into the water and pick up the fillies little butt, telling her to keep it there for a second. She nods and gathers her breath, sticking her head underwater. You shake your head and laugh a bit at the foolish little Pinkie. You grab the shampoo and again begin to lather her hair, making note not to close your eyes this time. This task takes about two minutes, and Pinkie has yet to surface for air. You start to worry if she is okay, and then remember she's freaking Pinkie Pie, the very pony who, even at fillyhood, defies the laws of physics and relativity.

You repeat the previous steps of cupping your hands and pouring the water over her tail, making it go straight like her mane. Another ten times later, you tell her she can put down her tail now. Her head surfaces from the water without gasping for air, her mane somehow unaffected by the water. She repeats her earlier practice of closing her eyes and puffing her cheeks, and again her tail becomes fluffy. This time you see it coming and laugh at the absurdness.

You give Pinkie some bath toys and let her soak a bit, with your supervision of course. She happily takes the boats and submarine and does a bit of childish role-play. This goes on for about two minutes before she picks up the submarine and slams it into the water, diving fully in the water with it.

You peek over the tub to make sure she's still there, only to find her gone yet again! You search the water frantically, hoping she only moved a bit out of sight. When you don't find her, you full-on panic and jump up to search for her. You turn towards the door, only to see Pinkie Pie with a towel in her mouth! You sigh deeply, relieved she was okay.

You decide that she's done (not that you really had a choice anyways), taking the towel from her and wrapping it around her neck. You begin to shake the towel over her mane, poofing it more (which was somehow possible) and making her giggle once again. You then lower the towel a bit to get the top of her body, then her abdomen, then her tail, and finally her legs. After you finish drying her, she shakes like a dog to make sure she was fully dry. Once she was satisfied, she skipped happily outside to resume whatever she was doing beforehand.

While draining the tub, you laugh to yourself at the little episode of silliness you just experienced. Leave it to Pinkie Pie to defy science while taking a bath! When the tub is finally empty, you leave the bathroom to check on the filly. When you leave, your eyes widen at what you see.

"Pinkie, no dog-riding in the house!"

Fluttershy

"Fluttershy!" you call for the yellow pegasus filly.

Two minutes go by before you realize you need to go get the shy pony yourself. You leave the bathroom to go search for her, thinking of where she could be. You search high and low, and find her a bit later hiding under your bed. You somehow manage to coax her out from under there, promising her everything was fine and she wasn't in trouble. When she finally calms down from her rapid shaking, you scoop her up gingerly and carry her to the tub.

You check the water temperature one last time to make sure it was warm enough (it was), and then softly place Fluttershy in. She looks shocked at the sudden warmth for a second, and then relieved at the soothing bath water. She's still a little shy towards you, so you try not to look too long at her, however cute she may be.

When she seems to be fully acquainted with you and what was going on, you give her a rubber duck to play with, which she happily accepts and starts caring for. She treats the toy like it were a living thing: she babbles to it, she hugs it, she guides it throughout the bathwater; all of which warm your heart and make you smile. She sees you smile while looking at her and hides behind her mane, embarrassed.

"No, it's fine, Fluttershy. You can play if you want, don't mind me," you try to convince her. The truth was, you really did want her to play with the duckie, for she was always cute when she played with toy animals.

She then turns back to the rubber duck, and pushes it to the side, the mood for playing dead. Oh well, you think, it was cute while it lasted.

Now you grab the bottle of shampoo next to you and squirt a palmful into your hand. You then begin to lather it gently into Fluttershy's soft, silky mane. She giggles at the tickling sensation when you move up to her scalp, fully comfortable with you cleaning her hair. You go to wash her bangs when you accidentally get some soap in her eye.

The shampoo stings Fluttershy's left eye, causing her to retreat from you, close her eyes and begin to cry softly. Your heart breaks at your stupid little mistake, while you try to apologize to the yellow filly. She eventually manages to rub it out of her eyes, which were now red from the mix of soap and tears. She looks up to you, a sorry look on your face, and forgives you and lets you continue washing her.

After half a minute more of mane washing, you cup your hands, scoop up some water and pour it over her head. She's yet again shocked by the sudden water, but doesn't move too much in order to let you continue. This process takes about twenty more rounds (you never really realized she had so much hair!), the whole time Fluttershy staying still and, oddly enough, trusting you.

When Fluttershy's pink mane has been fully cleansed, you then move onto her wings. You'd never washed a pegasus, so this was a whole new concept for you. You don't know whether to use body wash or shampoo, so you choose the first. You grab hold of Fluttershy's wings, extending them and asking her sweetly to hold them up. Then you take the strawberry body wash and squirt it on both wings, causing the pegasus to shiver at the cool contact. After you have an adequate amount on each, you begin to lather the soap into her feathers, noticing the weird feeling they seem to have when soapy. You don't know when to be done lathering them, so you stop after about a minute.

You repeat the process of cupping water in your hands and pouring it over the soapy areas. It's hard to tell when the wings are fully soap-free, but you guess they're done after about ten rounds. You rub your hands through them to be sure, and find you were right.

Now it was time for her tail. You pick up her hindquarters and nicely ask her to again hold it. You again grab the shampoo and pour some into your hands. Once you have a handful, you stroke her tail with it, feeling yet again her soft, silky hair. You make sure not to pull hard while doing this. One minute and soapy tail later, you admire the work you've done and again cup water into your hands.

Almost automatically you pour the water over her tail, now used to this very redundant job. Her tail takes about fifteen rounds of water before it returns to its normal form (well, minus the fact that it's now all wet). Once you're done with her tail, you go to unplug the tub when you see Fluttershy pull it herself for you. You smile warmly and thank her, managing to get a cute little smile on her lips.

After the bathtime is done, you lift Fluttershy out of the tub and place her on the towel on the ground. You grab the towel you had prepared beforehand and wrap it around her head. You gently shake the green towel, hearing Fluttershy's voice vibrate while doing so. Then you take the towel and dry off her abdomen, and then her tail, and then finally her legs. Once she's dry, Fluttershy looks up to you, waiting for dismissal. You nod your head, and the filly quietly walks out of the bathroom to play with your kitten.

You go to put the towel in the hamper, when a cute sight catches your eye. You can see through the crack in the door a baby yellow pegasus pony "talking" to a small, orange kitty cat who was amazed at the sight in front of him.

"Aww!" you say, unable to contain the cuteness overload anymore. "Oh, Fluttershy, I love you!"

Rainbow Dash

"Rainbow Dash! You need a bath, NOW!" you yell ten feet in the air.

The cyan pegasus filly was playing outside until she noticed you coming towards her and talking about a bath. She panicked at the thought of bathing, and started flying away from you at great speeds. A wild chase had ensued for about five minutes before you managed to catch her, only to be dragged by the unnaturally strong foal, escaping command after command for her to stop from your mouth.

Just when you had given up all hope for cooperation, Rainbow Dash finally stopped, exhausted after pulling both of your weights (and you thought being a bit overweight was a bad thing). She looks to you with a look of defeat and apology on her face.

"It's alright," you assure her, even though it wasn't really. "Just don't drag me again. Now for your bath."

She sighs at the mentioning of bathing, and stands up to follow you, ready to cooperate. You nod your head to her, stand up, wipe the dirt from your pants, make a mental note to adress that scrape on your knee, and walk her inside. She looks around the house once over the threshold, obviously looking for a way out. "Nope, no way out now, Dashie!" you tell her confidently, ready to jump at any moment.

When you enter the bathroom, she goes over to the full tub, which was now close to losing it's warmth. She puts her hoof in to check the temperature, making sure it wasn't as bad as last time.

"Don't worry," you tell her, "it's twenty percent cooler this time. I promise."

She smiles at your honesty and jumps into the tub, satisfied with your deed. She starts to fool around, floating this way and that using her wings as propellers and turners. This makes you chuckle a bit, glad she's finally accompanying herself to the bath.

Rainbow looks to you, and then stops, a "let's-just-get-this-over-with" look now on her face. You take the hint and get out the shampoo, squirting a bit in your palm. You go over to the filly and start lathering her rainbow mane, getting each color individually. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, violet- all the colors of the rainbow, just like her name. This really makes you wonder how nature could do something so beautiful for something so small, thenceforth making that something even more beautiful, if possible.

Once her mane is fully lathered, you scoop up some of the water in your palms. You're about to pour it onto her head when she stops you with one hoof. You sit there, watching questioningly as she stands up and puts her head underwater, shaking it as fast as she can. The rapid shaking sends water flying everywhere: on the walls, on the shower curtain, on the floor, and, most importantly, on your new fifty dollar shirt (which you now realize you should've taken off beforehand).

"Rainbow!" you yell, stopping the pegasus, whose mane was now soap-free. She looks around, realizing her actions, and blushes, smiling embarrassingly. You shake your head and brush it off, telling yourself it's just another one of Dash's antics. Well, at least her hair is cleaned you think.

You take off your now soaked shirt and fill the tub with more water, seeing as how it was now at half capacity, making sure it wasn't too hot. When both of you are satisfied it's fine, you begin to work on her wings. You thank heavens Fluttershy was the first pony whose wings you'd clean and not Rainbow's (one mistake, and you were bucked). You grab the feather shampoo (again, good thing Fluttershy was your "lab rat", because regular shampoo makes their feathers very oily) which you had bought yesterday and pour some in your hand. You ask her to open her wings, to which she cooperates. You begin to lather her cyan feathers, enjoying the feel of them: their sleekness, their softness, their aerodynamic form. This takes about half a minute before you decide she's good, and after you cup water in your palms, only to be interrupted yet again. You give her a disapproving look before she lays down and gently (yes, somehow the famous Rainbow Dash managed to do something gently) flaps her wings in the water, barely splashing a few drops out of the tub and no more. You give her a sweet smile, telling her she did well.

With her wings and mane now clean, it was time to move onto Rainbow Dash's tail. You pour a palmful of shampoo in your hand and begin to stroke her tail. The task was not at all different, except, well, Rainbow doesn't like people touching her tail. She fussed and fought the entire time, almost kicking you in the face a couple times. You scold her each time, but to absolutely no avail; this pony really hated it when others touched her tail. The task took a VERY long half minute later the deed is done, and you leave her to rinse her own tail, which she does by softly shaking her flank in the bath water.

Now that the bath was finally over, you pull the plug and watch as the water drains at speeds that barely compare to the ones from the filly jumping out. You stop her before she leaves the room, pointing out the fact that she was still wet. She sighs again and walks over to you, ready for the drying cycle. You grab her favorite Wonderbolt towel (to which she smiles at) and wrap it around her, shaking it semi-violently to dry her off faster. You make sure to get her head, her body and her wings, and leave her tail and hooves to her. Once she's done, you start to put the towel in the hamper when you're stopped yet again. Rainbow Dash grabs the towel in her mouth and throws it on her body horizontally. You smile and tie the front for her, thus completing her cape. She grins brightly and rushes out of the room flying, pretending to be like one of her idols.

You smile to yourself, remembering this moment so that one day you could tell your friends you gave a Wonderbolt a bath as a filly.

Rarity

You take your hand out of the bath water, satisfied with its warmth. You make sure all is prepared for your next challenge: bathing Rarity. This wasn't hard in the way it would be hard for most other foals. This was hard because everything had to be perfect. And that means EVERYTHING.

"Rarity!" you call, confident in your achievements, yet still worried she'd refuse.

The marshmallow filly walked in and looked at you with beautiful blue eyes, which you knew were just full of high standards. She looked around the room, checking if everything was in place: her towel was hung up next to her robe, the water had a few bubbles in it, her special shampoo and conditioner were by the tub, and finally her brush and hair dryer were on the sink counter ready to be used. Satisfied, she proceeds to walk over to the tub, where she awaits to be lifted in. You pick her up carefully and place her in the tub. She relaxes at the warmth of the water, and sits back to enjoy it further.

You can't help but laugh a bit at what's going on. Here she was, not even old enough to talk and already she wanted to be treated like a queen. It's funny how the Element of Generosity wants so much herself.

Rairty sits up from her luxury, signaling that relaxation is over and cleansing must begin. You take the hint and grab her shampoo, squirting a nice-sized amount in your hand. You then gingerly lather Rarity's hair, careful to move with it instead of in circles, like you were accustomed to. With the young fashionista having long and delicate hair, this process takes you well over three minutes, leaving you with spaghetti arms afterward. You look to Rarity with hopeful eyes, and she responds with a look of approval.

To rinse off Rarity's hair, your normal method of using your hands won't suffice. This means that you have to turn on your shower and drain the tub a bit afterwards. You tell her to stand up, and once she does you turn on the water from above, rinsing Rarity with a nice, warming rain. She smiles sweetly at the feeling, even emitting a giggle twice.

When her lavender hair is free from suds, you grab her conditioner and repeat the process. The conditioner takes longer to lather into her hair and to rinse out, but it leaves her hair feeling soft and healthy, making Rarity look up to you with grateful and satisfied eyes. You're glad not everypony had these types of expectations, otherwise your arms might fall off!

You decide to take a break, telling Rarity she can lay back for a minute. She seems not to know whether to be thankful she can lay back and enjoy the water, or resentful she has to be in the tub any longer when she could be playing with her dollies. You, on the other hoof, are relieved you can sit back on the toilet lid and watch the unicorn filly for a bit.

After about one minute, like you'd promised, you get back up and prepare to wash her lavender tail. You squirt some shampoo into your hand and begin to stroke her curly tail hairs. Even her tail feels smooth, you notice, as you run your fingers through it, trying to get every bit of it. After two minutes of nonstop tail-lathering, you step back and decide it's done.

You turn Rarity around and turn on the shower. You pick up her tail a bit to get the undersides, which gets you a wondering look from the white filly. "Gotta get under it too, Rarity," you explain to her. She lifts an eyebrow, then brushes it off and turns to the wall in front of her.

Once her tail was fully cleansed, you empty the tub completely and take out the little white filly. You place her on the ground and grab her towel. You then wrap it around her and softly begin to dry her off, careful not to mess up her hair. Because her hair is so precious to her, it takes you a whole minute to dry her hair alone, and despite your best efforts you still manage to disturb her hairstyle a bit. You figure you'll be brushing it anyways, so you move on to her tail, which takes you another minute to dry, and which also manages to be disturbed despite your best efforts. After her tail is damp but not fully wet, you dry off her tiny white body, which was also smooth like her hair.

With the Great Routine almost over, you put away the towel and get her silk robe. You place her front hooves in it and tie it around her abdomen, making sure it wasn't too loose or too tight. You straighten the robe a bit, mostly because of your tendency to be a bit OCD from time to time.

And now, the finale! you think as you grab her brush and dryer, and get to work on styling her hair. You've never really tried this on a real pony, but you have done it many times on your My Little Pony dolls (ahem, figurines), and you figured this was just the same. You grab the dryer and turn it on, only to receive no response from it. You look back at the outlet and find you never plugged it in. You laugh dumbly and plug it in, bringing the device in your hands alive.

With the dryer on, you begin to dry Rarity's hair, while also brushing and styling it. You only come across a few knots, but they put up a fight which makes you pull hard enough for the filly to wince in weak pain. You apologize each time, and receive an "It's okay" look from her after. When her hair is finally all dry and straight, you come to your biggest challenge yet: putting the curls in her hair. You take the brush and twirl it in her bangs, and then take it out, somehow creating a curl that wasn't exactly like her old one, but it was close enough. You repeat this on the back of her mane and tail, producing the same results. You turn off the dryer and step back to admire your work.

Before you was a pure white filly unicorn, with beautiful violet hair and a matching tail, both of which had ameuturely made curls in them. She was fitted with a milk white silk robe that had the initials RB stitched in purple near the flank. Overall, you had done a pretty good job, and you were happy with the results. And Rarity must have agreed, because she walked up to you and gave you a hug. You hugged her back, accepting her little gift of gratitude.

Now that the fashionista was clean, she walked out of the room to go dress her dolls. You know what, forget it. They're your dolls, and you're proud to share them with such a sweet little pony. You follow her and put on a smile, happy that you two can continue reenacting the Royal Wedding.

Applejack (co-op with Lil Mac)

"It's ready, Mac!" you call to the red farmer colt.

A moment later you see a red flank with a short orange tail walk in, followed by the rest of Lil Macintosh's body, and then his foal-sized head, which was dragging a blonde tail in its mouth. Mac was struggling to get a little Applejack to follow him into the bathroom. The orange filly was spasmodic, trying to grab onto anything she could use to either stop Lil Mac or to throw at Lil Mac. When the filly's attempts are beaten by Mac's determination, she sits up and crosses her front hooves, a glum look on her face.

"Good job, Mac!" you tell him happily, glad you didn't have to do it yourself.

Mac spits out the tail and looks up to you. "No problem, er, what was your name again?"

You tell him your name, but that you'd prefer to be called the sitter. He apologizes, but you tell him it's no big deal. You then turn your attention to Applejack.

"You're a tough little filly, aren't you?" you cutely ask the ticked off earth pony.

"Eeyup," replies Lil Mac for his nonspeaking sister. "That filly right there is going ta be one apple bucker when she's older. Kicked me right in the head! Good thing I'm thick-skulled, otherwise I'd be out cold right now!"

"Oh really?" you ask the colt while turning your head over to Applejack accusingly.

"Eeyup," replied the red pony, as though it were the only thing he could say.

"Well then," you tell Applejack, "looks like we'll have to clean you extra hard, in order to get out that nasty attitude!"

Applejack continues to look unamused, and then sticks her tongue out to you, showing her true distaste for bathing. You shake your head and smile sideways, wondering what you're going to do with this stubborn little filly. You take off her hair bands, pick her up and place her in the warm tub, expecting her to relax but instead getting no signs of any change in her mood. You shrug to yourself and turn to Mac.

"Will you be helping?" you ask him kindly.

"Eeyup," he answers. "Granny Smith told me that I need to."

You nod your head and wonder whatever happened to their parents. Surely they must still be alive now considering Apple Bloom isn't alive yet, but you decide not to ask the question and to just continue on to the bath.

Then it hits you. "How, though, are you going to help?" you ask, realizing that there really wasn't anything he could do that he hasn't already done.

The red colt thinks for a moment, then responds, "I could help dry her off and keep her company so she doesn't hurt ya or nuthin'."

"True. Thanks," you say.

"Eeyup," he again says.

Turning back to Applejack, you pick up the shampoo and squirt a palmful in your hand. You then lather it throughout the angered filly's mane, producing not white suds but black ones. Dirt, dried mud and grease are all very plentiful in the pony's mane, a trophy of her love of the outdoors. Because of the amount of filth, lathering her hair takes you a good two minutes before the suds go from black to a light grey. You figure this is enough, so you step back and look to Mac.

He looks to you and answers your questioning look. "We were playing in the mud today. In fact, I'm takin a bath right after her."

You nod and turn back to the still grumpy orange pony. You cup some water into your hands and begin to repeatedly rinse out her hair. Mac watches you as you pick up water and pour it on her head, giggling at his sister's stunned first reactions. This task thankfully only takes you about 45 seconds, leaving Applejack's hair nice and clean afterwards. This still doesn't put a smile on her face, though; heck, it might have made her mood worse.

With her mane all clean, you move on to her tail. You ask her sweetly to lift it up, but she refuses and turns away from you. Worried, you turn to Mac.

"Applejack, lift up your tail for our sitter," commanded her big brother, who was almost twice her size already.

Applejack turns to her brother and sighs, lifting up her tail. You thank Lil Mac for his leadership and get to work on Applejack's tail. Just like her mane, the suds are all black from her past activities outside. Again, it takes you two minutes of hard scrubbing to turn the suds into a remotely clean shade of gray.

You begin to cup some water in your hands when Applejack sits down. You tell her to stand up again, but she refuses. You try to explain that she needs to sit up so you can properly rinse her tail, but again she refuses to budge. Instead, she shakes her tail in the water, effectively rinsing the dust-grey suds from it. When the tail returns to its blonde form, you drop the water and shake your head, figuring that that'll do.

With AJ's bath finally over, you unplug the tub and drain the water. Applejack hops out glumly and awaits to be dried by her brother. Lil Mac grabs the towel you had prepared and walks over to his younger sister. He wraps the towel over her head and begins to shake it with her hooves as hard as he can, obviously trying to act like a playful big brother. His method of trying to cheer her up works, as you can tell by the surprising giggles she utters from under the towel. Mac continues this as he moves down her body, up until her flank, where he stops. He looks up to you with weird eyes.

"Could you...?" he begins to ask.

"Of course," you answer, taking the towel from his hooves. You don't blame him for not wanting to dry his sister down there, mostly because he's just a colt, and hopefully won't ever touch a filly's flank until his twenties. You finish what he started and dry her tail, only gentler than what he did. Applejack stops her giggling and adopts a content mood. When her tail was dry as can be, you put the towel in the hamper and tell her it was all over.

Lil Mac thanks you for your help, and you respond saying you're the one who should be giving thanks (considering how hard this would've been without him). He turns to his sister and gives her a brotherly-sisterly hug, almost dirtying her mane again. You tell Mac this, and he breaks the embrace, apologizing and claiming he'd forgotten. He tells you two that now it was his turn for a bath, and you lead Applejack out of the bathroom, acknowledging Mac's privacy.

"So," you say to the filly, who was now looking up to you, "you want some of the leftover apple pie in the fridge?"

The earth filly's face lights up at the mention of dessert and eagerly follows you to the kitchen, impatiently waiting to get her hooves on that pie.

Twilight (co-op with Shining Armor)

Shining Armor walked into the bathroom, levitating his little sister by the tail with a light red aura of magic. A filly Twilight was two feet off the ground, a grumpy look on her face caused by her brother's victory over her. Shining Armor, on the other hoof, was smiling with pride as he brought to you his trophy.

"Thank you, Shining!" you say happily, feeling fortunate that he was at your assistance (he volunteered to when he heard).

"No problem!" he responded, still smiling. He placed the young violet unicorn gently on the ground right-side-up, and Twilight stayed, knowing that resistance was futile with her brother. She was not amused at all, for, as Shining told you, she was in the middle of doing her "homework" with Smarty Pants.

"No baths!" said the grumpy filly with her arms crossed.

You were surprised that the filly before you had just talked, even though you knew she was smart. "Wow, she can already talk!" you comment to her older brother.

"Yeah, but only basic stuff," responded the colt, who was levitating his sister by the body this time, placing her in the bath.

"Ah," you say, moving to the tub in order to start the child prodigy's bath. You kneel next to Shining Armor, who is leaning over the rim of the tub, talking to his baby sister, attempting to comfort her with little success.

Okay, let's start this you think as you grab the bottle of shampoo Shining hands you. You thank him as you squirt a handful in your palm. You then start to lather Twilight's grape and pink mane, making sure not to get too close to her horn (Shining had said earlier that she hates having her horn touched). Because of her short hair, this only takes you half a minute. You turn to Shining and give him a nod.

Shining Armor nods back, and you see his horn glow. Suddenly, a medium-sized ball of water floats out of the water and levitates over Twilight's head. Then, Shining releases his magic, sending the ball of water falling on his sister's head. Twilight is shocked by the sudden water, so much that she begins to cry. Although this seems to uneffect Shining, who continues rinsing her mane, it shatters your heart to see the little unicorn cry. When Shining is done after four more rinses, he leans closer to his sister and begins to talk to her.

"Hey Twily," he says in a soft, soothing voice. The filly stops her crying for a second to see what her brother had to say. Shining, with his sister's attention, places his hooves over his eyes, asking "Where's brother?" When you see the filly put on a confused look, her brother removes his hooves from his eyes, yelling "Peekaboo!" The little filly giggles cutely at the little game. Shining repeats these steps three more times, gaining another giggle each time.

You smile warmly at the memories you've had playing peekaboo. When Shining is finished playing, he turns to you. "You're a great big brother, you know that, right?" you say to the colt looking up to you, smiling at the compliment.

"I get that a lot," said Shining humbly.

You nod again and return to the bath. Grabbing the shampoo bottle again, you ask Shining to lift her tail while squirting some more soap in your hand. He magically lifts his sister's behind for you while you begin to lather her tail. This process takes twice as long as her mane, considering her tail was longer and, for some reason, dirtier. You mention your findings to Shining, who kindly explains.

"She accidentally sat in some mud outside," he explains.

"Ah," you say again. "Well, I finally got it all out."

Shining nods again and conjures up another ball of water. Still holding Twilight's tail up, he begins to recreate his past method of rinsing out the shampoo. Twilight is not surprised by the rinsing this time, and instead begins to laugh. You figure that she is either ticklish, or just happy her BBBFF is near. This process of utter cuteness continued for four more ballfuls of water before her tail is completely clean.

With Twilight fully clean, you take out a few bath toys and place them in the water. Twilight lights up, handing her brother a toy boat while grabbing one for herself. The two siblings begin a little bout of roleplaying, Shining being the great big brother he was. Two minutes of Twilight half-talking, half-babbling and Shining somehow communicating with his young sister go by with you looking over them, smiling. This, you figured, was your best idea yet that day.

When the time for playing was over, you interrupt the sibling ponies and take the toys. Shining easily gives up his toys to you in a mature way which you admire. Twilight, on the other hoof, refused to let go of her red plastic boat.

"Now, Twilight," Shining says to his sister, "give the nice sitter the boat so you can get out of your bath."

Twilight lets go of the toy, which you pick up and place on the counter behind you. She starts to tear up a bit, almost diminishing your determination. She then reaches over the tub to the boat as though she could somehow get it. You look over to her toy, only to see it floating in the air! The boat then glides over to Twilight, whose horn was shining a bright purple. You're taken aback by what had happened: Twilight just used magic! You look to Shining for an answer.

"She's determined," he explains. "That's how magic works: pure unicorn determination."

"Ah," you say one last time, almost annoyed at the word. That explains Pumpkin Cake. Never in your life would you think to have learned that by giving a pony a bath! Impressed by what she did, you let Twilight keep the toy as you unplug the bath and take her out.

Shining magically levitates the blue towel next to him and brings it up to his sister. He begins to shake the towel over her head, drying her mane. Then he moves on to her body, and then her tail, and finally her hooves. With his sister fully dried, he puts the towel in the hamper and turns to his LSBFF (Little Sister Best Friend Forever).

"So," said Shining friendly. "Want me to read you 'Goodnight Luna'?"

Twilight beams at the mention of her favorite story and skips outside the bathroom eagerly. Both you and Shining laugh, following the ecstatic unicorn out the door.

You see Twilight and her brother cuddle up in her room later on, an open picture book in Shining's hooves. You smile at the sibling bonding, your heart warming at the sight.

Luna and Celestia (Double Trouble)

The two royal fillies squirm in your arms as you carry them. "Stop it!" you repeat to the two over and over again, but to no avail. Celestia, on your right, kept teasing her younger sister Luna, on your left, by making faces and hitting her. Luna would reply in a similar manner, up until now, when she finally heeded your commands and stopped, crossing her arms grumpily. Celestia did the same, but with a hint of victory on her face.

When you finally reach the bathroom, you bump open the door, walk over to the tub, and place the Princesses inside. Luna turns away from her sister, who does likewise.

"Oh, c'mon you two!" you say to the divided sisters. "Why don't you two just get along? I mean, you're sisters! That's one of the closest bonds you'll ever have!" You speculate over what you'd said, thinking it was deeper than most things that came out of your mouth. The Princesses, however, took the information in one ear and out the other. You sigh, realizing that this was going to be harder than you thought; never have you washed two foals at once without help, and neither of them wanted to cooperate!

You grab the shampoo, squirt some in your hand, and begin to work on the elder sister. Celestia grimly looks up at you as you lather her pink mane. Luna also watches, a look of gratitude on her face caused by her sister's despair. Lathering takes about a minute, the entire time Luna smiling and Celestia frowning. When you're done, Luna looks upon her sister and laughs at the sight: her mane was a soapy mess! Celestia sticks out her tongue at her sister.

You grab the shampoo again after rinsing your hands and begin the process of lathering Luna's light blue hair. This time, it is a soapy Celestia who watches her glum sister have her hair cleaned. Luna takes just as long as her elder sister to lather, about a minute. When you're done, Celestia laughs at her sister, whose hair now matches hers. Luna sticks her tongue at her sister, then stops and begins to laugh also. The two shared a moment of giggling between them: they were so much alike it was funny! Hearing the overwhelming cute that was their laughter, you too begin to giggle.

When the little bout of humor is over, you scoop up some water in your cupped hands and pour it over Celestia's head. She closes her eyes as the water drips from her bangs. You repeat this six more times, then do the same for Luna, who was well prepared for the sudden water. She too takes about seven rinses before her mane returns to its rinsed, blue form. The two look at each other and giggle again, this time at their unusually wet and straight hairs.

With their manes cleaned, you grab the special feather shampoo next to you and begin to work it into the two sisters' wings. Celestia is very cooperative and only takes about half a minute. Luna, on the other hoof, was very hesitant due to her unusually sensitive wings, and took around two minutes. After, you rinse out Celestia's wings and leave Luna to rinse her own, which she does by gingerly flapping them in the water.

You figure that now would be a good time to take a break. You reach next to you and pick up two rubber duckies, placing them before the royal fillies. Both sisters light up at the toys and reach out for them. Celestia, however, takes both of them, leaving Luna empty-hoofed. Luna looks up to her sister with a tiny look of shock. Celestia hugs the ducks close to her chest, turning from her sister. "Mine!" she claims stubbornly. Luna looks to you, and then back to her sister, and begins to cry.

Now, normal crying would be annoying enough, but Luna, being royalty, used the Royal Canterlot Voice to amplify her whines. Both you and Celestia cover your ears in an attempt to save them from dying out. You give Celestia a mean look, and Celestia sighs inaudibly, handing over one of the ducks. Luna looks at the bath toy and stops her crying, wipes a tear from her eye and picks it up, suddenly happy.

"Thank you," you say to an unhappy Celestia.

The two sisters then begin to play together in the tub, pretending to be little ducks. Celestia and Luna both cheered up fast as they babbled together (Celestia uttered the occasional basic English word between sentences). You breath a happy sigh of relief at the sight of the two actually cooperating. You sit back and decide to watch them for another minute.

When a minute passes, you take the shampoo and ask the royal alicorn sisters to kindly lift their tails. Pouring some soap in your hand, you begin to lather Luna's tail, considering you started with Celestia twice. She doesn't mind you touching her tail; in fact, it may have itched, because she lifted a fore hoof when you scrubbed a bit hard. After about forty-five seconds later you begin Celestia's tail, which also seemed to itch, though not as much. Wow, you though, being young royalty must really be tiring if your tail begins to itch! You then remember that you don't have a tail, and you weren't anywhere near royalty, so you would never know.

Rinsing each of their royal tails takes about a minute each. When you're done, you unplug the tub and drain the water. You take the two alicorn fillies out of the tub and place them on the ground. Taking two towels, you attempt to dry both of their heads at the same time. In the end, you just give them both noogies. You sigh at your failure and start with Celestia. When her hair is frizzly, dry, and pink, you move onto Luna, making her hair frizzly, dry and blue. The two sisters look at each other and laugh at their ridiculous hairstyles, causing you to laugh too. You dry the rest of their bodies, making sure not to leave them too damp.

After the two are fully dry, you dismiss them and turn to put the towels in the hamper. Once the two damp rags are in the laundry pile, you leave the room to find Celestia and Luna playing chase, with Celestia being the chaser and Luna the chased. You yell for them to be careful, just as you see Luna jump up excitingly and take flight. Both you and Celestia look up, awestruck at the sight of Luna's first time flying. Luna giggles happily and looks down to you, grinning ear to ear. You smile back, extremely lucky to see the sister of the night take off for her first, and certainly not final, time.

Derpy

With the tub full of warm water, you smile and call for the young mailmare, ready for the funny shenanigans you may endure.

"Derpy!" you call for the grey pegasis. Two minutes pass before you realize you needed to resort to plan B. You take out the muffin you'd hidden under the sink and place it on your lap. You turn towards the door and again yell for the filly. After ten seconds, you add, "Oh boy! This muffin is too big for me to eat alone! I sure wish somepony would share it with me!"

Half a second later, you look down to your lap to find a young pegasus foal with her wings opened happily eating the breakfast pastry off your lap. You place the muffin on the ground, undisturbing Derpy, and walk over to the door and lock it.

When you and the filly are both safely secured inside the bathroom, you look over to check on her. Derpy is finishing her treat with a smile on her face. When she finally swallows her last bite, she emits a loud burp that lasts for two seconds, which causes both of you to smile greatly.

You walk over to the filly and lift her up to put her in the tub. She willingly cooperates and sits in the bath water, smiling, ready for her cleaning. You smile back at her and grab the shampoo, squirting some in your palm. You then begin to lather her blonde mane, making sure to get behind her ears. She giggles at the tickling feeling she feels. You giggle also, finding it hard to resist the contagious laughter. Even though it only takes about half a minute to lather her short hair, you continue for another half-minute, greedily milking as much humor as you can from the pegasus.

When you think you've had your fill of Derpy giggles, you cup some water in your hands and begin to rinse her mane. This takes about five rinses, each time emitting a cute little giggle yet again from Derpy.

After you finish cleaning the suds from her hair, Derpy puts her muzzle in the water. She picks her head up and puckers her mouth in an "O" shape. She then blows softly, creating a little bubble, which then floats gently in the air. She giggles yet again and watches the little sphere of soap and air with wonder. The bubble then pops in front of her nose, making her jump and you chuckle. She joins your laughter and the two of you share half a minute of silly joy.

With her mane done, you take the feather shampoo and start to lather it through her wings, tickling her yet again. Both of you again share a moment of joyous laughter which lasts about a minute before you finish lathering her feathery wings. She smiles to you and lowers herself, shaking her wings in the water to rinse them for you. You nod to her in approval and she sits back up, wings fully cleaned.

You decide that now was a good time for a break. You take out a rubber duck and a toy boat and hand them to Derpy, who excitingly takes them from you and begins playing. Even though she spoke in babbles and her eyes never really focused on one thing (which was an aspect you found ADORABLE, not offensive!), you could tell she was pretending the duckling was a big ferocious monster by the way she put on a stern face when she made it fly high above the boat, ready to attack its prey! The sheer fact that a young filly with goofed eyes knows about monsters makes you chuckle softly to yourself.

After five more minutes of playtime, you decide to let Derpy keep the toys while you lift up her flank. You grab the shampoo and squirt some into your palm, and when you turn back to her you find that she sat back down! You lift up her rear again and ask her kindly to keep it there so you can wash her tail. Then you begin to lather it, only to be interrupted halfway through by Derpy yet again sitting down! You quickly pick her back up and softly scold her. You grab the shampoo again and squirt a tiny fraction in your palms and start to finish off what you'd started, considering some of the soap washed off when she sat. This takes you (an uninterrupted) half a minute before her tail is finally filled with suds. You then tell her she can sit and shake off the soap if she wanted to. She goes with your idea and sits her plot down, shaking it cutely in the water. She takes only fifteen seconds before her tail is fully suds-free.

Her whole body finally clean, you unplug the tub and let the water drain. Derpy is fascinated by the miniature twister formed around the drain of the tub, and watches it closely with foalish wonder. You decide to let her continue this until the entire tub drains, which was only a minute later. When the tub was empty, you pick up the grey filly and place her on the ground. You grab her towel next to you and begin to shake it over her mane. Then you dry her wings, and then her tail, and finally her abdomen and hooves. After placing the towel in the hamper, you can't help but grab the filly and embrace her in a hug; never before have you had such an urge to hug something so cute! She is taken a bit aback by the sudden affection, then welcomes it and wraps her hooves around you.

You both smile sweetly and giggle for half a second before she breaks the bond and leaves the bathroom. You stand up and sigh to yourself. You wonder how some people could think that a pony so cute, sweet and innocent could be considered offensive because of her name. Heck, in your mind, her name was one of the cutest features! Derpy, meaning one who derps, making her sound like the silly pegasus she truly was!

You then brush it off as one of those things people freak over for no reason, like conspiracies and germs. As long as you and thousands of other bronies love her for who she is, everything was alright about her.

Dinky (co-op with Derpy)

Derpy opens the bathroom door and enters. In her hooves is her giggling, bouncy daughter, Dinky. Both ponies are smiling happily, enjoying their mother-daughter embrace. You smile also, finding that you too enjoy the sight of the embrace. Derpy flies over to you and presents to you the filly unicorn she was hugging so tightly.

"Here she is!" exclaims the proud mother. "Thanks again for helping me! I'm just so glad that I don't have to do it alone again. Last time, she was so grumpy, and I just don't know what went wrong!" she adds, a worried yet hopeful look in her misaligned eyes.

"It's no problem at all!" you assure her happily. "I'm happy to help. She is just so cute!"

Both mother and daughter giggle at the compliment. Derpy then glides over to the bathtub full of lukewarm water (the way Dinky liked it) and placed her unicorn filly in it. Dinky continued to smile at her mother, totally cooperative with her and, surprisingly, also you.

You smile to the filly as Derpy hands you the shampoo. You thank her and squirt a good-sized amount in your palm. As the gel lands on your left palm, a different-smelling aroma reaches your nostrils, confusing you as to whether or not it is pleasant. You look at the bottle for an explanation and find that the shampoo is banana-muffin-scented. You look at Derpy and she smiles widely.

"Isn't it great?" she asks you. "I just found it Monday on accident! Now she and I both smell so delicious, I could just gobble her up!"

You laugh at the silly mailmare and agree that it does smell good. "I heard that she was your little muffin, but this is ridiculous!" you joke to Derpy, who laughs in return.

Returning to business, you begin lathering Dinky's mane. Derpy looks on as her bubbly daughter is lathered by a trustworthy stranger. Dinky doesn't mind it at all that her mother wasn't the one washing her mane; in fact, it looks like she was kinda glad someone who knew what they were doing was doing just that. Derpy also noticed this, and instead of feeling bummed she couldn't help very well, she feels happy you're there. She looks to you (at least, that's what you think, considering her eyes were pointing in two directions) and comments, "She likes you."

"What can I say?" you say humbly. "I just have a way with foals."

After a minute of washing Dinky's mane (including behind her ears, a side note by her loving mother), you step back and ask Derpy if your work is fine. Derpy inspects it for two seconds before giving you a thumbs (er, hooves) up. You cup your hands and scoop some water in them. Then you pour the water over Dinky's soapy head, causing her to close her eyes and smile amusingly. While you rinse her mane another six times, Derpy tells you her about her previous difficulties doing this task. "I used this cup," she explains, holding up a clear cylinder with her mouth. She puts the cup back down and continues, "It took the longest time. I'm really grateful you and your hands are here to make it go faster."

When you finish rinsing a happy Dinky's head, Derpy picks up her daughter's rump so you could continue shampooing. Dinky and Derpy watches peacefully as you take the banana-muffin-scented shampoo and lather the filly's tail. The smell of banana fills the air the entire half-minute it takes to clean the tail-hairs. After Dinky's tail is soapy-clean, you look to Derpy for another round of checking and approval.

After another hooves up from the mother mare, you begin to rinse the soap out of Dinky's tail. This takes about seven more rinses, during which Derpy again states her previous difficulties. "Her tail was even harder," she says. "Mostly because it was next to her rear, and believe me, it feels weird to put your nose close to her behind, even if you're cleaning it," she laughs. You laugh too, imagining what that'd be like; not so pleasant, you conclude. You finish rinsing her tail and think how grateful you are to have hands.

With Dinky finally cleaned, you reach into the water and unplug the tub. Derpy picks up her daughter and places her on the ground, meanwhile telling you again how glad she is you could help (turns out she had to hold her breath in order to unplug the tub with her mouth). You feel sorry for not only Derpy but every pony who had to manually wash their foals on their own without magic or fingers.

Derpy volunteers to dry Dinky, saying that you've done enough already. She grabs her towel in her mouth and throws it over her only daughter's head. She then uses her hooves to grip the ends of the towel and repeatedly shake it to and fro, effectively drying her off. Dinky giggles cutely from under the light blue rag. You giggle in response to the cute sound. Derpy continues to shake the towel down the filly's light purple body. Dinky continues giggling to her mother, who smiles towards her daughter in reply.

With Dinky dry, Derpy looks to you with a smile. "Wanna see something cute?" she asks. Without waiting for an answer, she picks up her daughter and places her on her back. Dinky bounces foalishly, excited for what was to come. "Ready for takeoff, Captain Hooves?" Derpy turns to her daughter and asks. After a positive giggle from the unicorn on the pegasus's back, Derpy ran outside with you following. Once in the open, the pegasus mare leaped into the air, horizontal to the ground so as not to drop her little muffin. You could hear loud cries of joy from high in the air, coming from both mother and daughter ten feet high. You laugh at this beautiful sight of a caring mother and a young daughter bonding.

Two minutes later Derpy lands, obviously tired from the work-out. She walks over to you and places her clapping daughter on the ground. She turns to you and hugs you. "Thanks again," she says, a lot of joy in her voice.

"It was no problem," you assure her again.

Dinky walks over to you and joins her mother, hugging you also. Derpy disengages and smiles, looking at the sight before her. "Y-You wouldn't mind doing this again, would you?" she invites you sheepishly.

Dinky also disengages and looks up to you with a hopeful look on her face. You find what little will you have shatter as you see the puppy-dog eyes on the filly's face. You make your decision, and tell both of them, "Of course! I'd love to!"

Discord

You crack your neck and shake your arms, preparing yourself for the largest challenge you've ever faced. After two previous hours of prepping and kicking yourself, you call in perhaps the weirdest thing you'll ever lay your eyes on.

"D-Discord!" you call nervously. You find yourself shaking a bit and stop yourself, not wanting to show any signs of weakness. After two minutes with no reply, the dreaded realization came to your head: you had to find him.

You slowly open the door and tiptoe out, preparing yourself for the worst thing the little ball of chaos could throw at you. You search everywhere in the house for Discord for fifteen minutes, only to get but one of his pruned feathers. You sigh in despair, trying to think of where he'd be. "Think, if I were the Element of Chaos, where would I hide?" Your eyes open as you sense someone (or rather, something) watching you. You look up to the ceiling and find a small yet long figure with a pair of asymmetrical horns and asymmetrical wings smiling deviously at you, clearly reversing the effect of gravity on himself.

You grab a chair and drag it over to where Discord hung. Attempting to grab him, you reach up high and grasp the child in your hands. Thinking this easy (too easy), you smile and pull down, only to come up empty-handed. Discord giggled malevolently at you, clearly defying friction now, making him slip right out. When you go to reach for him again, he snaps his fingers and disappears into thin air.

You jump down and grumble frustratingly. Another ten minutes go by, again with no results. Just then you walk by the bathroom and hear a bit of splashing. You poke your head in and see Discord controlling a candy cloud raining chocolate milk over the tub, ruining the water. You eek and rush over to the tub, punching the unnatural cloud out of the way and on the ground, where it poofs and disappears. You turn to Discord angrily and find him chuckling evilly at you.

Unplugging the chocolate-milk-and-water tub, you attempt your best to scold the young chaotic beast. Discord sighs loudly, showing his disinterest in your words, angering you further. When the tub is empty, you rinse it repeatedly to remove the chocolate stains, and then replug the tub and fill it again. You grasp hold of Discord, who was surprisingly still next to you, and place him in the filling tub, resisting his attempts to break free.

When the tub is filled with moderately-warm water, you grab the shampoo next to you and... squirt some in midair!? You turn menacingly to Discord and demand that he either puts the soap in your hand or wash himself with it. Surprisingly, instead of doing the latter, he releases his hold on it and drops it in your hands. You thank him and begin to wash his, er, mane? Well, whatever it was, it was hair on the back of his head, and you washed it for about half a minute, considering its small size.

You begin your routine process of scooping water and pouring it over Discord when you see that, out of nowhere, he had produced goggles and placed them over his eyes so as not to get them wet and soapy. You rinse out the colt's... chick's... THING's mane without question, something you'd learned to stop doing a while ago. What feels like an hour goes by with you progressing, making you realize that Discord was at that moment affecting your perception of time. You scold him again, but all he does is smile and take off his goggles.

Because Discord is too young to have his beard yet, you then reach for the feather shampoo and begin to lather a palmful throughout his blue left wing. It felt very odd to wash only one wing instead of both, like you're used to, but then again this wasn't any ordinary pony; in fact, it wasn't a pony at all! Washing his wing only takes about half a minute before you've fully made it soapy.

Again you begin your rinsing routine. To your suspicious amazement, nothing chaotic happens while you do this task. When you're done, you look the creature straight in the eye and ask him what he'd done. He shrugs sarcastically, causing you to look back at the wing and find it soapier than ever! You shoot him a scolding look, to his amusement, and start to rinse his wing for a second time. This takes you another half minute, despite it being worse than before.

You don't have the need to ask Discord to raise his tail because he was, you find out, wagging it throughout his bath. You grab onto it and stop it, while also grabbing the shampoo and squirting a small amount on the little fluff of hair at its end. You then rub it awkwardly into the hairs, unused to cleaning something so small. It only takes ten seconds before you realize that the suds are somehow being sucked into his tail! You shoot yet another look at Discord before giving up and rinsing out the little fluff, saying to yourself that it was close enough. To rinse it out, all you do is rub it into the water and pull it out three seconds later.

With the unnatural disaster some call Discord's bath over, you pull the being out of the tub and place him in midair, where he floats without flapping his wings. You brush this off and unplug the tub. Grabbing the towel off the sink counter, you dry off the beast as fast as you can, trying to get it over with before he made himself somehow get wetter, or he somehow disappeared from beneath the towel, or whatever came to his chaotic mind. Thankfully, his full body gets dried with no problem at all twenty seconds later. You dismiss the young freak of nature to both of yours' pleasure.

When you exit the bathroom, you notice that for some reason either the entire house was upside down or the entire world outside had flipped, for you saw outside a window that the tree in the front yard was now rooted from above.

"I need a nap," you grumble to yourself as you head to bed.

Spike (co-op with Twilight)

The bathroom door opens with a violet glow of magic as a young Twilight Sparkle trotted in. Behind her is a purple dragon who's being dragged on the ground by magic, his claws dug as far as possible into the wood floor. Twilight has a strained look on her face as she struggled to get the weirdly strong chick. When she managed to cross him over the threshold, she sighed in exhaustion and looked to you, putting on a sheepish smile.

"Eh heh, I can fix your floor after, if you'd like," she offers apologetically.

"You don't have to. Only if you could and it wouldn't be a problem," you tell her, not wanting to further exhaust the young caretaker of the reptile.

"None whatsoever!" she assures you proudly, relieved you weren't mad at Spike.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you think that what just happened seemed oddly familiar. Let's see: abnormal strength, forceful magic, a great desire to not bathe. Yep, I've seen this before.

Spike now lay on his back with his arms crossed. Twilight levitated him and placed him in the tub full of water. She looks to you and smiles.

"Thanks for your help!" she says happily. "It's just been so hard raising him, mostly considering I'm still too young to be a mother. And, there's also the fact that I'm a pony, and he's a dragon."

"It's no problem," you assure her like you do everypony else. "Although, I will come out and admit I've never washed a dragon."

"It's easier than it sounds," explains Twilight. "All you need to do is take this," she holds up a scrubbing brush, "and some scale soap, and scrub like Tartarus!" Twilight gasps and puts her hooves to her mouth in shock and shame. "Please don't tell my mom I said the T word!"

You chuckle a bit to Twilight's surprise. "You're fine by me." Twilight exhales deeply and wipes some sweat off her brow.

Grabbing the brush from Twilight's hoof and thanking her, you take the bottle of scale shampoo Twilight had provided you with and squirt some on the semi-stiff bristles. You then turn to the grumpy purple dragon and begin to scrub his little head. He closes one of his eyes as you make sure to get every part of it. A minute in you're almost done when you notice something fascinating.

"He's molting!" Twilight exclaims happily when she notices it also. "He's never molted before! Spike, you're growing up!" The young caregiver hugs her year-old pet and future assistant. Spike doesn't react much to the hug, only smiling at his maternal figure's warmth.

You continue to scrub his head for ten more seconds, making sure to scrub a bit harder to clear the dead reptilian skin. Once you're certain that Spike's head is clean, you pour two handfuls of water over his head to clear off the few suds and leftover skin cells.

With his head fully cleaned, you put some more scale shampoo on the brush and begin scrubbing his back, more vigorously than his head. Spike's back had obviously been itching, for as soon as you started scrubbing his head inclined, his eyes closed and his left foot and tail both began shaking like a dog's would. Both you and Twilight giggle at Spike's merriment and relief. Because Spike was so pleased with how hard you washed his back, it took you two and a half minutes, mostly because you wanted to help the poor little guy.

Continuing from his back, you turn him over and begin to scrub his belly. This tickles the dragon chick, and he giggles cutely, causing both Twilight and you to yet again giggle. His stomach only takes about a minute, the entirety of which Spike weirdly enjoyed, putting on a smile afterwards.

"I think he likes you!" Twilight comments, also smiling.

"I do too," you reply, smiling to both.

Now that the purple chick was nearly done, you squirt one last bit of scale shampoo on the brush and begin gently cleaning his tail. Completely oblivious to how this was to be done, Spike wagged his tail while you tried to chase it and clean it. Twilight asks him multiple times to stop, but he never listens. In the end, Twilight magically holds his stump in place while you quickly get it over so Twilight wouldn't lose too much energy (she was still kinda young). With your efforts, it only takes half a minute and one irritated Spike to clean off the reptile's tail.

Bathtime finally done, you pull the tub's plug and Spike watches the water start to drain. Twilight lifts her tiny pet from the tub with a purple glow of magic and places him on the ground. You grab the towel behind you and dry off the baby boy in front of you. He giggles again, clearly finding that his tummy was very ticklish. You dry his belly a bit more to increase his giggles, which do so to the point where he hiccups.

Now, hiccups from a foal or human child are completely harmless. Spike, on the other hoof, was a dragon, and therefor hiccuped fire. This wouldn't have been so bad either, minus the fact that Twilight was watching him from the front. Twilight jumps a bit at the flames and starts to panic when her lavender mane caught on fire!

You reflexively jump over to the quarter-full draining tub and grab a handful of water. You then quickly throw the water towards Twilight's head to extinguish the flames. Your attempts are successful, leaving behind nothing but a wet, unamused purple filly. Bemused, she frowns to you and thanks you half-sarcastically. You sheepishly smile and tell her, "No problem!"

Spike looks to Twilight guiltily. Twilight notices this and smiles, pulling him in closer. "You're okay, little guy!" she convinces him. "Accidents happen all the time." Spike continues to look at her, still with (lesser) guilt.

You grab the towel again and take Spike from the pony's hooves. Finishing up his drying stage takes only a minute before the dragon is sparkly clean- literally! Twilight looks at your amazed face and explains. "Dragons have naturally shiny scales for the first two years. That's why no mature dragons have shiny scales."

"Oh," you say, now knowing something new about dragons.

Twilight thanks you endlessly and lifts Spike up on her back. She strolls out the door and brings Spike to bed, claiming it was time for his nap. You could hear from outside a tiny grumble followed by a poorly hidden yawn. You laugh at baby Spike and his inability to cease amazing you.

The Great and Powerful Trixie

"Trixie!" you call for the unicorn filly from inside the bathroom. You hear the sound of casual hoofsteps outside the room before they stop right in front of the door. You wait a few seconds for her to walk in before you face-palm and sigh. "The Great and Powerful Trixie," you correct yourself, annoyed that, even at a young age, the filly was so vain.

The Great and Powerful Trixie happily opens the door and walks in, a proud smile on her face. As usual, the blue foal was wearing her wizard hat and starry cape. You look at her and frown.

"Now Trixie," you start, "you need to take off your clothes to take a bath."

TGP Trixie frowns and turns her head, displeased. You sigh again and reach down to take off her clothes yourself. You untie her cape and fold it up, placing it next to her towel and hat, which you also take off. She sits down and crosses her arms. Looking at the displeased pony, you could just hear in your head her saying, "The Great and Powerful Trixie does not want to take a bath!"

"C'mon, cheer up!" you say. "Everyone who is and ever was great and powerful takes baths. Don't you want to be great and powerful?" you ask, hoping to make her change her mind.

TGP Trixie looks at you for a few seconds before sighing and standing up, as if to say, "Fine, the Great and Powerful Trixie will take a bath!" Glad to see her spirits somewhat lifted, you pick her up and place her in the tub.

Proceeding to grab the shampoo, you squirt a handful in your hand and start to lather the unicorn's two-shaded mane. You can't help but think that TGP Trixie looks cute with her light-colored mane and pretty light-violet eyes. Deep down you had to admit you couldn't wait until it was her turn! Her two-sky blue mane only takes half a minute to lather before TGP Trixie is left with a soapy mane and a displeased expression. You have to fight the urge to giggle at how ridiculously cute the little braggart looks.

Now you cup your hands and begin to scoop the water and start her rinsing cycle. She closes her eyes as to avoid getting soap in her eyes (smart filly, you think) as handful upon handful of water pours over her. She doesn't seem to mind the water, even though it wasn't exactly hot, like she liked it. Just another reason to love her you muse in your mind, subconsciously smiling.

When Trixie's hair is finally free of suds, you ask her, "Trixie, would you please lift up your tail?" Trixie looks up to you, waiting for something to be said. You roll your eyes and say, "Sorry. The Great and Powerful Trixie, would you please lift up your tail?" Trixie smiles to you and nods whilst lifting her rear. You thank her formally and grab the shampoo again. You repeat the process of lathering the pony's hair, again admiring how wonderful her tail and mane looked. Her tail only takes another half minute to lather until it matches how her mane looked before you rinsed it: very soapy.

Now it was time to rinse again. Cupping your hands, you dip them in the water and scoop the water. You pour the liquid over Trixie's rear to clear off the soap on her tail. She watches you do this with content interest. You smile to her and continue rinsing. Six handfuls later and her tail is restored to its bushy form.

Figuring that she was fully clean and so well-behaved, you decide she deserves some time to play in the bath. Your choice of toys was made out of a little curiosity of yours that you've had for a while now. Reaching behind you in a secret hiding place, you pull out a toy Ursa Major, two earth pony figures and one figure of a blue unicorn. You place them in front of Trixie to await the reaction.

Needless to say, your thoughts proved correct. As you predicted, the Great and Powerful Trixie instantly lit up at the sight of these toys. She then began roleplaying, doing exactly what you'd hope she'd do.

An Ursa Major was attacking a small pony town! Two earth ponies, one tan with a black mane and one cream with a purple and pink mane, were both running in terror from the beast of the night! All hope seemed lost when out of nowhere appeared a blue coated unicorn appeared wearing a cape and wizard hat.

The Great and Powerful Trixie Lulamoon stared the evil beast in the eyes without a trace of fear. The Ursa Major charged towards Trixie with incredulous speed, only to be stopped by one BIG beam of magic from the unicorn mare! The Ursa Major was sent flying into the air until it disappeared into the stars! The townsponies all cheered in unison for the Great and Powerful Trixie, their newfound savior!...

You see Trixie hold her hooves in the air in an attempt to cheer happily. She had thrown the Ursa Major in the air to your right, almost hitting your mirror. You forgive her for her misbehavior, mostly because of how cute she looked! You chuckle at the little d'aww moment and reach to unplug the tub. You then reach over to Trixie and find her again watching you.

"Alright my little town savior, time to get out," you say to her as you pick her up by her front legs. You place her on the ground and grab her starry towel next to you. Drying her off takes only twenty seconds or so, the entire time Trixie in a little trance of foalish satisfaction. When she's dry enough, you grab her hat and cape and clothe the filly in both.

Once fully dressed, the Great and Powerful (or, as she should now be called, the Cute and Adorable) Trixie dismisses herself out of the bathroom to continue being the wonderful wizard she was (going to be). You also dismiss yourself as well, gathering the toys on your way out. As you pick up the last one, you inspect it closer and think to yourself.

"Huh," you say to the air. "Who'd have guessed she really did defeat the Ursa Major?" You put away the Trixie figurine and walk out the door, shutting off the lights.

The Cake Twins (co-op with Pinkie Pie)

"Okay, Pinkie! It's ready!" you call, satisfied with the temperature of the bath water.

A fully-grown pink mare walks in to the room slowly (yes, Pinkie walked slowly). When she fully reveals herself, you note two the foals bouncing on her back. Pound and Pumpkin Cake are two bundles of pure joy as their favorite foalsitter in the world carries them to their bath. Pinkie, on the other hoof, surprisingly looks a tad tired, most likely after a long day at work with the twins. She looks at you and smiles.

"Thank you so very much again, mister/miss!" she thanks you using the appropriate address. "Mr and Mrs Cake are taking another order to Manehatten, and are going to be gone for the rest of the day. These two were just SO much, I... I..." You run over to grab the foals off her back as she over-dramatically faints.

You shift the unicorn and pegasus in your arms to a more comfortable position and turn to Pinkie, who was now perfectly fine. "It's no problem at all," you tell her, looking between Pound and Pumpkin. "These two are just too cute, I couldn't help but volunteer!"

Pinkie smiles ear to ear with her eyes closed and responds, "Okie dokie lokie!"

You then turn your attention to the tub and place the month-old foals in it (Pinkie had taken the liberty of removing their diapers). Both foals look up to you with wonder, surprised to see a stranger helping them. Although, they do not cry at you, trusting that Pinkie knew exactly what she was doing by trusting you.

Now the bath begins. Pinkie hands you the shampoo, somehow reading your mind before you could ask for it. You thank her and squeeze some into your hand. Starting on Pound Cake, you lather the soap through his brown hair. Pumpkin Cake giggles at her brother, who has his left eye closed and a bemused look on his infant face. Half a minute later, Pound Cake's mane is left soapy and wild while you remove Pumpkin's bow, squirt some more shampoo in your palm and work on her appropriately orange hair. Her reaction matches her sibling's to a tee, including Pound Cake's giggles at his sister's similar fate. In the end, both twins have hairdos unlike they have ever had. The sight was so ridiculous that the two burst into laughter, causing a chain reaction to Pinkie's laughter, and finally yours.

Once you get back to business, you scoop up some bathwater into two cupped hands and begin rinsing Pound Cake. Nothing eventful happens as you do five more repetitions over Pound, then seven over his sister. The two just cutely sit the entire time you clean them. Pinkie looks shocked, and when you ask why, she only responds with, "I've never seen them sit still for so long. Except when they're sleeping. Well, sometimes Pound sleep-flies, and Pumpkin sleep-magics. And-"

"Okay," you laugh, interrupting Pinkie so she wouldn't go on another one of her talking rampages. Pinkie's ears go down and she smiles sheepishly, realizing her almost-mistake.

Now it was time for Pound Cake's special treatment: washing his wings. Pumpkin Cake and Pinkie would never realize that pegasi wings tended to get dirty. Therefore, this was why Pumpkin and Pinkie looked at you wondrously as you squirt some feather shampoo in your palm and lathered Pound Cake's tiny little wings. Pound Cake is used to the feeling of the shampoo, and doesn't seem to react beyond his eyes closing and mouth forming a smile. When you're done Pinkie looks at you surprisingly.

"I didn't know you had to wash a pegasus' wings! Boy, no wonder why his wings were so dirty!" she states, having learned something new.

You quickly rinse Pound's wings and move on to both siblings' tails. You manage to ask Pinkie for the shampoo this time before she somehow knew you wanted it. Thanking her again, you take the bottle and once again squeeze some gel into your palm. Alas, before you could ask Pinkie to lift the twins' tails, she is yet again one step ahead of you, saying, "There you go!" while smiling. You thank her, almost ticked that somehow she was ahead of you. Starting with Pumpkin this time, you work the soap into her tiny, bushy tail. Both twins watch you for the fifteen seconds you lather her tail before you move onto Pound Cake's. Again, in the end both twins' tails are soapy and wild, erupting another small round of giggles from everyone.

Now it was time to rinse both foals' backsides. You cup some more water in your hands and start rinsing the filly's pumpkin orange tail. She only takes four rinses before your ready to move onto the colt's tail. Before long, the pegasus' tail returns to its normal black, stubby form. You sit back and allow Pinkie to provide some entertainment.

"Alright, fillies and gentlecolts!" the pink party mare begins. "Now, for the main attraction!" Using her fourth-wall-breaking skills, she materializes a magician's hat out of nowhere. Reaching in, she "magically" pulls out two rubber ducks and places them in the tub. Pound Cake is excited at the sight of the toys, and waves his arms in the water, splashing his sister next to him.

Pumpkin Cake moans a bit at her brothers silly mistake. She then turns to him and accepts the challenge. Raising both her hooves, she brings them down really fast and quickly starts to splash Pound Cake. When she's done, Pound Cake is left both wet and mad. Before you know it, the whole bathroom is getting soaked in one big battle of the sexes and siblings. Both you and Pinkie turn towards each other in panic.

Pinkie is the first to react. Quickly, she removes Pumpkin Cake and places her on the solid ground, her arms still flailing imaginary water. You react likewise with Pound Cake, unplugging the tub whilst removing him. When both foals stop their fussing and realize they've both lost, you grab their towels and hand one to Pinkie, instructing her to dry Pumpkin.

Taking Pound Cake, you start to dry his mane, then his wings and torso, and finally his tail. Pinkie Pie, being a pony and not a human, tries to copy your moves but ends up drying the old-fashioned pony way: rubbing the towel over the damp body (you'd seen Big Mac do this with Applejack). When both foals are dry, Pinkie puts their diapers back on and turns to you.

"Thanks again!" she says happily as she picks up the unicorn and pegasus and places them on her back. She exits the bathroom un-Pinkie-ly calm and collective.

"No problem!" you call out to her in response. You take a moment to reflect on what just happened. "Wow," you say to nopony, "Pinkie only broke the fourth wall once the entire time."

"I only did what?" a confused voice asks behind you.

You jump at Pinkie's sudden reappearance and sigh to yourself. "I stand corrected," you mumble.

Queen Chrysallis

You poke your head out of the bathroom and search for the filly. "Chrysalis!" you call out to the young changeling royalty.

The little black princess (and soon-to-be queen) appears from around a corner and hovers over to you. She has a skeptical look on her face while she lands at the door in front of you. You invite her in and she accepts, looking around the bathroom. When she sees the bathtub, even though she didn't see inside it, she instantly knew what was going on.

Reacting quickly, you shut the door and lock it at speeds Rainbow Dash would envy. Chrysallis runs straight into the door after you move, causing her eyes to derp and her mind to become dizzy. She shakes it off and looks up at you, very unamused. She looks down and for the first time ever accepts her defeat (and so easily too!).

Satisfied with her presence, you pick up the changeling and walk her over to the tub. When you place her in, she makes a weird face as the water flows through the many holes in her body. She shivers a bit, and then becomes comfortable with her surroundings.

When all is set to start, you grab the shampoo next to you and apply some to your palm. You then proceed to lather the filly's dirty-blue mane. The hair has a weird feeling to it, almost buggish (go figure). When you reach the bottom of the mane, you notice the holes in the mane and wonder how it was even possible for them to exist. Once you realize that you are washing multiple technicolor ponies and relativity doesn't matter to any of them, however, you shrug it away and continue lathering. A minute later, Chrysalis' mane is sudsy and ready to rinse.

Picking up a handful of water, you bring your hands above Chrysalis and release the liquid over her head. She flinches at the warm water falling on her. You continue nonetheles for seven more handfuls. When you finish a moment later, the changeling's mane is nice and... clean? You couldn't really tell, because despite your efforts Chrysalis still looks like her mane was made up of old, moth-eaten fabric. You sigh and continue your job, despite the nagging voice in the back of your head that tells you to wash again just in case (you decide that it'll always look like that, no matter what. Good thing Rarity isn't here you think).

Now would be the time that you'd clean a foal's wings (if they had any), but considering Chrysalis' wings are those of a bug, you move onto her tail instead. Lifting her behind and instructing her to keep it there, you grab the shampoo again and squeeze some of the gel into your opposite palm. You lather her tail similar to the way you lathered her mane, including the little moment of wonder as to how her hair could have holes. Another minute and another soapy bunch of hair later, her tail is finished lathering.

Cupping your hands and filling them yet again with the bath water, you begin the second and final rotation of rinsing. Chrysalis watches you blankly as you pour palmful after palmful of water on her tail. Her tail only takes six rotations instead of seven, leaving her tail looking exactly as it looked before.

With the queen done sooner than most royalty (because of her buggy wings), you decide you'll lay back for a bit and treat the poor dear to some play time. You reach somewhere behind you and pull out multiple toys: army-men-like changelings (about twelve of them, which you had picked up at Toys S Us), a small house and miniature figures of the Mane Six (who she doesn't know at this time, but are ponies anyway so they'll work). You give them to the young royalty and she accepts them with a sharp smile.

Now that she finally had an army, she lined them up and gleefully prepared them for an attack.

The Mane Six were encircled by millions of changelings. All hope was completely lost, for Queen Chrysalis had won the battle and the war. Queen Crysalis laughed from overhead at her triumph. She ordered her army to attack now without mercy. Her minions followed her order, and the Mane Six were all easily thrown around, kicked, punched, and so on. When the pesky ponies were out of sight and out of mind, she sent her troops to destroy a nearby building. They followed, easily overtaking the weak structure, and even flipping it upside-down!

Chrysalis is laughing both evilly and cutely, a combination that could rarely ever be pulled off. The changeling looked to the sight before her with devious joy: the unnamed ponies were underwater and defeated, the house was upside-down and slightly beaten-up, and her little "minions" were smiling back at her, glad to help their superior.

What happened next, though, you never thought you'd see.

Chrysalis took all of her changelings in both arms (some she struggled with because they got into her holes) and brought them up in an embrace. She kissed some of them, a look of happiness and motherly love on her face. The changelings (obviously) didn't react to this, but you guessed that in her mind they were doing the same for her. The queen of the changelings loved her "babies".

You softly squee at the sight of the not-so-evil foal caring for her children. Never had you ever thought she felt so close to them, mostly due to how other people portray their relationship on the Internet. You leave the filly in the tub for a minute more before you unplug the tub and pull her out, a few changelings still in her hooves.

Grabbing the towel by your side, you wrap it around Chrysalis and start to dry her off, beginning with her mothy mane. When that's done, you move onto her torso and wings. While doing this, you can feel the indentations of her holes and get inside them to dry her internally, shivering slightly at the alien feeling. When that's done, you move onto her tail and hooves, which also have holes that you have to dry inside.

When all is finally done, you unlock the door and dismiss the changeling royalty. Chrysalis smiles at you smugly and brings along her changelings, leaving the other toys for you. You watch her exit and smile warmly at the sight before you.

It was then that you realized that even the evilest of beings felt love for their children.

Lyra Heartstrings

Lyra sat next to you like a normal pony (which was odd for her) next to you as she eagerly awaited her bath. She had grown onto you the very second she saw you, happy to have your assistance. She obviously had never seen a human before, and now both loved and envied you for being one. Who would've thought her obsession would begin with you?

You turn off the tap and turn to the filly next to you. "Alrighty, Lyra!" you say to the pony. "Time for your bath!"

Lyra smiles cheerfully at you and lifts her front hooves up for you to place her into the full tub. Her pistachio body submerges in the warm water, and she giggles at the feeling. She looks up to you and smiles, again happy for your presence.

With the filly in the tub, you may now begin. Grabbing the shampoo next to you (and getting an awestruck stare from Lyra), you squirt some in your hand (with a still awestruck Lyra watching) and lather Lyra's mint green hair. Lyra enjoys the feeling of your fingers combing through her hair and leans back a bit to enjoy it further. Her short hair is easy to clean, only taking twenty or so seconds to fully soap-up. When you're finished, you step back and look at the overjoyed filly, who looks back at you, still smiling her cute smile.

You rinse the soap off her hands and start to scoop up some water to rinse Lyra's mane when the little unicorn reaches out to you. Seeing what she wanted, you chuckle a bit and hand over one of your, er, hands. The filly's eyes light up as she grabs hold of the new natural technology before her. She looks it over for a few seconds before rubbing her head against it. When she's done being adorable, she looks at the hand again and sticks it in her mouth.

Her little teeth lightly clamp onto your fingers, causing you to jump back and yelp a bit. You shake off the pain and look back at Lyra, who looks confused as to why you were in pain. You laugh a bit at her and say, "Well, looks like somepony's teeth are growing!" Lyra happily shrieks back at you and slaps the water, oblivious to what you said but accepting the compliment nonetheless.

You continue what you started beforehand and scoop some water into your cupped hands. You pour the water over Lyra's mane and watch the bubbles fall from her hair. She is again amazed by your hands' ability to pick things up with ease and drop them with greater ease. Her mane only takes six rinsing rotations, again due to its short size. When you're done, her mane returns to its mint form.

With her head clean, you move onto her hindquarters. You place your hand on Lyra's flank (at which she flinches at the contact of human skin) and ask her sweetly to lift it and hold it. She comprehends and does what you ask gladly. You reach next to you again and grab the shampoo again, applying some into your opposite palm. Then you start lathering the filly unicorn's tail, which is longer than her mane. Because of its size, it takes almost twice as long to lather than her mane. Thirty seconds later, you finish lathering and notice Lyra staring at something. When you follow her gaze, you find it isn't the appearance of something, but the lack of another thing; you had no tail yourself. You laugh a bit at the pony, who stares at you, confused.

"Humans don't have tails, Lyra," you explain to her, but to no avail. Lyra stares for a few more moments trying to put two and two together to find out where your tail was. She gives up though when you turn around and hide your behind, mostly because it was getting kind of weird having her stare at it.

You begin yet again the cycle of cupping water in your hands and rinsing the soap out of her tail hair. Lyra steals a small glance at your behind again when she thinks you aren't looking. Her behind only takes eight rinses, which wasn't as much as you thought. Nonetheless, her tail is eventually finished and ready for drying.

Drying, however, won't be until after the bath, and her bath wasn't over quite yet, for there was one more thing you wanted to do before you left. You grasp from somewhere behind you a special toy you had brought over from where you lived. Revealing to Lyra a Barbie and a Ken doll, expecting her to love them. She did far beyond what you had hoped, and immediately took the two human figurines out of your hands as though it were her first Christmas (or, as it were in her world, Hearth's Warming Day). She observes the alien toys and instantly falls head-over-hooves for them; moving their arms, making them walk and sit like bipeds, and basically everything else humans could do that ponies could not. You smile warmly at the sight, remembering the first time you played with the- er, I mean, when you saw someone else play with them.

Ten minutes of playing and exploring possibilities later, Lyra is done with playing and is ready to leave the tub. You oblige and unplug the tub, draining the soapy water. Lyra lifts her front hooves again so you could pick her up (you muse at how she was the easiest foal yet). Placing her on the ground along with the two dolls, you grab the towel to your left and quickly dry off the latter. Then you turn to the towel's main purpose and start drying Lyra's short mane, then her torso, and finally her tail and hooves. When you're done, Lyra starts to leave the bathroom when you stop her.

"Aren't you forgetting these?" you ask her while holding up the Ken and Barbie. Lyra beams at your gift and takes them from you with a look of gratitude. She then trots out of the bathroom, both Barbie and Ken smiling stiff in Lyra's mouth.

You put the towel away and take a small moment to look at your hands. "Well, they do look kinda weird," you muse aloud to no one.

Vinyl Scratch

You turn the tap on the tub until it ceases and stand up. "Vinyl!" you cry out for the filly unicorn.

A minute goes by before you slap your head in realization of where she was. You exit the bathroom and make your way through the house, searching for the right room. At the end of the hallway you finally come to a door painted black and with a Fillex poster on it. You knock on the door and enter, not bothering to wait for the answer that wouldn't come.

On one side of the room lays a white unicorn with a two-shaded blue mane on a twin bed, with bulky headphones over her ears. Her head is slightly rocking in tempo to a song you could hear almost fine. The filly was wearing her signature purple shades and smiling her usual smile. You walk over to the deejay and remove her Cleats by Dr Hay, causing the filly to look up at you and raise an eyebrow.

"You aughta turn your music down," you warn her. "You'll go deaf."

Vinyl continues staring at you, not showing the slightest bit of caring.

You roll your eyes slightly at her apathy. "It's time for your bath, anyways," you inform her while putting away her Epod. Vinyl starts to reach for her device with a look of refusal. You sigh in defeat and create a compromise. "Alright, I'll hook it up to the Ehome and you can listen while you bathe." Vinyl nods at your proposal and hops off the bed, ready to follow.

Carrying the wondrous devices called an Epod and Ehome, which you found in Vinyl's bedroom, you guide the little unicorn over to the bathroom, with you entering first. You plug in the Ehome and attach the Epod to it. You then inspect the small gadget and search for an appropriate song (good luck with that you muse to yourself). You spend two minutes scrolling through the hundreds of titles, not finding anything that convinces you to play it.

Among the seemingly endless playlist (who payed for these?) you find titles such as Egotistical Cannibal, I Am Fillyex, Fustercluck (you hope you read that right), and so on, making you start to question the parenting of her parents. Nonetheless, you choose from almost nowhere a "song" from the list, figuring it sounded safe enough.

The music begins to play and Vinyl cheers up instantly, showing you that she was very fond of this one. With both parties satisfied (one more than the other, you figure it out), you pick up Vinyl and place her in the tub full of warm water. She starts nodding her head to the beat of the dubstep, causing you to chuckle a bit. You listen to the rhythm and find it to be not of your taste. Then, after you remove Vinyl's shades, the music stops and stays silent for a few seconds.

Confused as to how anything could be that short, you stand up and check on the Epod. Sure enough, the song hadn't changed, and in fact was still in the beginning. You look at Vinyl, who had her eyes closed and her right hoof in the air. Somehow more confused than before, you turn up the music slightly to see if it was having a quiet moment. This was where you made your mistake, and before you realized it the bass dropped.

BOOOOOOOOM! BUM BUM BUM BUH WUB WUB!

"SWEET MERCIFUL CELESTIA!" Your ears have never in your entire life heard something so loud and so ear-bleedingly techno in your entire life. You clasp onto your ears in an attempt to salvage your ear drums. Vinyl, however, you saw continue nodding (no, banging) her head to the horrid tempo, her hoof following its controller. You get up off the floor, which was hard to land on, and quickly attempt to pause the music. Instead, you suffice for unplugging the Ehome and swiftly turning off the Epod before it started again.

Vinyl looks disappointed when you return to her, sad that she couldn't finish her little moment. You, however, look at her with shock. "How are you not deaf?" you ask the filly while rubbing your ear to stop the irritation. Vinyl shrugs and points to the shampoo impatiently, wanting to get this over with. "No problem," you sigh to her, also eager to get her bath over. You kneel down and begin the quick task.

Grabbing the shampoo with one slightly shaky hand (the drop not only affected your ears), you squeeze the bottle and begin to lather the unicorn's neon and dark blue mane. You scrub thoroughly for about twenty seconds, both of you thankful for her short yet pretty mane.

You quickly go from lathering to rinsing, cupping the clear water in your hand and pouring it over her head. Again, because of her short mane, this takes less than usual for other ponies. Half a minute later, it's time for her tail.

Reading your mind before you could ask, Vinyl lifts her flank so you could clean the tail. You thank her and apply more shampoo to your palm and lather the slightly longer tail. Taking not too much longer, the tail was fully lathered in forty seconds.

Rinsing was automatic for you, because before you knew it the tail was half done. Overall, the tail only took a minute to rinse. Thankful for everything to be done, you unplug the tub and pick Vinyl out of the tub.

Grabbing the black towel across from you, you shake the cloth first over the unicorn's head, then torso, and finally tail and hooves. Vinyl remains content with a hint of impatience throughout the entire bath, showing that she really wanted to get back to her music. To the filly's amusement, you unplug the Ehome and Epod and hand her the latter along with her Cleats. She smiles and puts on the device, dismissing herself from the room.

You put your hands on your hips as you watch the white filly leave.

"Note to self: stick with rock."

Sweetie Belle (co-op with Rarity)

Rarity entered the bathroom followed by a very obedient Sweetie Belle, who was indifferent to what was to come. From what you could see, the fashionista mare had no trouble whatsoever getting her younger sister to obey her. You slightly nod your head in approval, saying, "Wow, she really likes you, doesn't she?"

Rarity looks to her sister and softly sighs. "Yes, she is rather... fond of me," she says with a small fraction of enthusiasm. "In fact, she's always trying to help me out with my designs. Don't get me wrong, I love having a little sibling who also enjoys fashion. It's just, sometimes she can be... rambunctious."

You turn to the little pink- and purple-maned filly and see her rub against her sister in a random bit of affection. I don't think it's the fashion she loves, you comment in your mind. You slightly smile at the sign of sisterly love and return to the task at hand.

Picking Sweetie Belle up, you carry her over to the tub filled with warm water and place her in. She immediately relaxes in the warmth and sits without trouble, patiently waiting for you to begin step one.

Taking the hint, you have Rarity hand you the shampoo, politely thanking her for her small assistance. Squeezing the bottle, you allow a palmful of the gel soap to fall in your hand. You then bring the soap-filled hand to Sweetie's mane and start scrubbing. Sweetie Belle enjoys the sensation as you comb your fingers through her curly yet short hair. The hair feels as it looks: a bit raggedy but soft nonetheless, with a few knots here and there. The short mane only takes half a minute before it is soapy and halfway done.

Beginning the next step by scooping some water in your cupped hands, you rinse out the suds from Sweetie Belle's curled mane. She remains obedient to you, most likely due to the fact that her sister was in her presence. Six rinses is all it takes to completely clean the white filly's hair, leaving her with a surprisingly still curly hairdo. You look to Rarity, who also has a few curls in her hair, and figure it must run in the family.

With her head finished, you move on to her backside. Having Rarity kindly lift up her sisters little flank, you squeeze yet another palm of shampoo in your hand and start scrubbing the filly's tail. Sweetie Belle doesn't flinch or hesitate at you while you massage the soap through her bushy tail, which matches her mane when it comes to texture. This task also only takes thirty seconds before the tail is soapy and clean.

Now, the last step. You cup another amount of water into your hands and release it over the sudsy tail, removing the shampoo but somehow not the curls. Six rinses later, just like her mane, her tail returns to its normal state, minus being dry.

You step back and admire your work. Sweetie Belle looked cute as ever, and still hadn't shown the least bit of rebellion. You nod at the spotless filly and turn to her elder sister, who looks to you for instruction.

"Why don't you two play a bit?" you suggest, almost command. "I'm sitting back for a bit. Here," you hand over a pair of yellow rubber ducklings, "you two can play with these."

Rarity slightly frowns and accepts the bath toys. "Alright, but I'm not exactly good at 'play'," she admits. Turning to her infant sister, she places both ducks in the water and shows them to Sweetie Belle.

"Look Sweetie!" she acts foalishly surprised. Sweetie adopts her sister's fake glee and plays duck with her, clearly enjoying her bonding, even if "play" wasn't her thing. The two sisters play for a few more moments, Sweetie being more involved than Rarity, when the younger stopped and stared at something.

Both you and the teenage mare follow her gaze to find the culprit of her attention. You find that the object in question was Rarity's purple mane.

"Oh, you like my mane?" Rarity asks her sister sweetly. Sweetie Belle smiles slowly with her mouth open as her elder sister brought her mane a bit closer for her to inspect. The white filly unicorn grabs hold of the soft, lavender hair, making sure not to pull or ruin it. She rubs her little head against it, causing both you and the hair's owner to softly squee at the adorableness.

And then, Sweetie decided that if something feels good, it must taste good.

Rarity shrieked at the sight of her gorgeous mane being eaten by a little foal. She quickly commanded Sweetie to release her grip while pulling back. The young unicorn obeyed, sending her sister comically falling backwards. Rarity shakes off the impact and grabs hold of her no-longer-perfect hair.

"Oh, NO!" cried the fashionista when she inspected the damage. The once curly mane was now messy and covered with saliva from about two inches above the end down. Rarity enters into her drama queen form and begins to tear up a bit while cradling the ruined locks.

You turn to Sweetie Belle, expecting her to be apologetic. Not only were you right, but the young filly too began to cry. Before long, tears were streaming down the filly's cheeks at the thought of her sister's disapproval. Your heart breaks at the sight, and you nudge Rarity to make her see. Rarity snaps out of her dramatic trance and looks at her sister also. You could have sworn that you heard the sound of Rarity's heart smashing to bits as well.

"Now, now," Rarity comforts while walking towards her sibling. "It's not all that bad. In fact, I think I'll keep it this way for a bit. It looks *gulp* fabulous."

Sweetie Belle wipes away the rest of her tears and cheers up at her sister's attention. She lifts up her hooves to signal that she was finally ready to leave the tub. You obey and lift the filly out, having Rarity unplug the tub magically. Placing the foal on all fours on a bathroom mat, you grab the towel next to you, only to have it levitated right out of your fingers.

"Allow me," insists Rarity as she begins to dry off her now-better sister. Gingerly as possible, Rarity takes her time to dry off first Sweetie's head, and then her torso and hooves, and finally her flank and tail. When she is finished, Sweetie Belle's mane and tail are hardly messed up, if at all. Sweetie jumps a bit in glee at the feeling of being dry. Rarity, however, looks exhausted. "I may have used a bit too much magic," she explains. "Even teenage unicorns have their limits."

You pat Rarity on the back and thank her greatly for her generosity. You kindly dismiss both ponies from their duties, causing Sweetie Belle to walk up to her sister and wait to be lead. Rarity accepts her role as leader and leaves the room, her young sister skipping behind her.

You watch the two leave and your heart repairs itself at the sight. You secretly wish you would one day have a bond with someone like these two had.

Applebloom (Co-op with Applejack and Big Mac)

"Alright, bring her in!" you call out to the two Apple siblings.

Less than a moment later the bathroom door opens and in walks three ponies: a red stallion, a young orange mare, and in between them a yellow filly with an unamused look. You figure this look is due to the fact that she was being forcefully carried by her two elder siblings; her entire body was somehow being held in place above the ground by the bodies of Applejack and Big Macintosh, resulting in a two-way force to hold her up, like two fingers holding an object vertically.

Applebloom is released from her entrapment as soon as you successfully close the door with a *click*. Applejack wipes a sweat off her brow and sighs in victory. "Thought we'd never get her in here," she announces proudly while pushing back her almost-too-big stetson.

"Eeyup," agreed the red stallion beside her. Surprisingly, you look at him and notice he isn't wearing his signature yoke. When you point this out and question it, he explains, "Don't wanna get it wet. If it does, it stinks up."

"Ah," you comprehend while turning to the last sibling. Applebloom sits with her head angled down and a frown on her face, completely unwilling to participate. You shake your head and smile at her, and she lifts her head in confusion. "You're a stubborn little filly, aren't you?" you playfully say while looking her in the eye. She returns her gaze towards the ground, giving you a pout lip. You chuckle a bit and lift her up.

You place the yellow earth filly in the tub full of water and turn to your two helpers. "I hope she wasn't too much trouble," you say to them, receiving humbled looks from both.

"Not at all," assures Applejack. "You should see her during nap time!"

"Eeyup," Big Mac agrees again. You wait a second to see if the now-grown-up stallion will continue, but alas he does nothing but chew on his hay grain. You brush this off and return to Applebloom in the bath, who is still dull about the situation.

You begin by having Applejack kindly hand you the shampoo next to her. Thanking the almost-grown-up mare, you squirt a handful of apple-scented (big surprise) gel in your palm and lather it throughout Applebloom's strawberry mane. Applebloom decides not to resist (thankfully) and lets you get between the locks of hair. This takes around less than a minute, the entirety of which Applebloom remained unhappy, but slowly getting better.

Without any ado, you move on to rinsing. Cupping your hands, you submerge them and pour out the water in them over Applebloom's yellow head. Applejack notes this and explains how glad she is you're there to help (hooves were a darned thing to try and rinse with). You agree that hands do help, and continue your job. Seven rinses later, Applebloom's mane is finally clean.

Grabbing the shampoo bottle again, you squeeze a second handful out while having Big Mac get Applebloom's flank up out of the water. After thanking him (and receiving an, "Eeyup") you start to work the soap into the red tail before you. This task goes by with little interruption (you pulled her tail a bit and she jumped, making you apologize automatically) for about a minute before you turn to rinsing.

Or at least, you would have rinsed it if Applebloom didn't sit back down. You started to protest, but Big Mac placed a hoof over you to stop you, a look of "she-knows-what-she's-doing" eminent on his otherwise expressionless face. You look back at Applebloom and see her swooshing her tail back and forth, effectively rinsing out the suds in the hair. You shrug and figure that even though it wasn't what you were used to, it still worked.

Applebloom seems to have cheered up slightly, but in your opinion not enough. You press on for the two older siblings to play with her, to which Applejack agrees and Big Mac does without any hint of enjoyment or hatred. Big Mac goes first and picks up the yellow rubber duck next to him. He places it in the water and pushes it around a bit. Applebloom watches her brother's motions but remains indifferent to everything. Big Mac backs up and turns to his orange sister, saying, "Well, I got nothin'."

"Well, I do," replies Applejack while walking up to bat. She looks at Applebloom, who is in turn looking at her, and removes her hat. The cowmare then places the felt stetson on her filly sister's way-too-small head. The hat easily falls over Applebloom's face, which she fixes so that the front fell on her forehead and the back hung over her back, almost touching the bath water. Applebloom quickly cheers up at her sister's offering, bringing a smile to everyone's face. Applejack turns to you and explains, "It was our father's. She's always loved it. Heck, she'd live in it if she fit!" From the almost-microscopic tears you saw in the mare's eye as she turned away, you could tell that this wasn't really a topic to discuss.

Glad that the overall mood has improved greatly, you unplug the tub and pick up the yellow cowfilly, saying, "Alright little cowgirl! Your bath is over!" Applebloom brightens more at being called a cowgirl. You place her on the bathroom floor and have Big Mac take over. The red farmer grabs the towel behind him and begins to dry off his youngest sister. Applebloom takes off the hat for a second, revealing it to have gotten a bit damp, and allows her brother to dry off her mane, placing it back on when he was finished. After her mane, Big Mac continued to dry the rest of his sister's body, stopping at her rear. "Uh..." he begins awkwardly.

Applejack grabs the towel out of his hooves. "Coward," she jeers while finishing drying her sister's flank and behind.

"C'mon AJ, you know I don't like drying her there," Big Mac defends himself.

Applejack snickers but says nothing further.

Now that the bath was over, you dismiss the trio of siblings, opening the door for them. Applebloom skips out, the stetson bouncing on the brink of falling off while she jumps. Applejack and Big Mac laugh at their younger sister's silliness and follow her out the door, going to continue their daily chores.

A bit later, while cleaning everything up, you look out the bathroom window and see a small, yellow filly with red hair and a cowboy hat doing her best to buck an apple tree. She hits it weakly, and only manages to shake off a single apple. Ignoring her obvious failure, she jumps up in victory and runs over to the lone apple on the ground, eating her prize. You laugh at this, and wonder if she will one day work on the farm like her two older siblings.

Little Macintosh

An obedient Little Macintosh sits quietly at your side while you finish the tub. You had told him earlier he could play while you finished the water, but he had disregarded your offer and decided to keep you company. Nevertheless, it was nice to see somepony who actually wanted to participate instead of act like a brat.

When the tub was three-quarters full, you turn the faucet knobs off and turn to the patient farmer colt to your side. "You ready?" you ask. Little Mac nods in confirmation, and in your head you could just hear his signature "Eeyup".

You reach down to pick up the big-for-his-size colt with utter failure. Little Macintosh's name, you find out, never quite fit him when he was young, for each time you wrapped your arms around his waist to lift him, you strained every muscle in your arms. You eventually quit your useless attempts and stare back at the expressionless earth colt. "Well, we sure are at a problem here, huh?" you sigh to the unspoken foal, who keeps his gaze as if in order to agree.

Macintosh (you decide to drop the "Little") turns towards the tub and contemplate his next move. Then, with all force possible in his hind legs, he jumps up and onto the rim of the tub, almost getting in. He then, to your amazement, musters the upper-hoof strength to pull his not-so-little body over the side and into the water, where he makes a thud and splash. Some lukewarm water splashes onto you, but you rub most of it off, remembering other times when your shirt had gotten wetter.

Satisfied with the clever colt's problem-solving skills, you begin the first step of his bath. Grabbing a bottle of apple-scented shampoo, you squirt some of the hair soap into your opposite palm. Then you place your soapy hand on Macintosh's orange mane and begin to lather it through. This process takes you longer than you thought it would, for even though the mane was short, it was messy and dirty, due to past hours spent in the fields of Sweet Apple Acres playing.

"Wow, you're a dirty little pony, aren't you?" you ask jokingly. Macintosh looks up to you with a sheepish grin. You laugh at the little colt's innocence, causing him to emit a single cute giggle.

The sunset orange mane is finally finished cleaning after a minute, turning the suds from a dull grey to its normal color. You reach your hands into the water and lift up a fair amount in two cupped palms. Then you bring the water over Macintosh's red head and release it, sending the liquid through his hair and back to its brethren below. You continue this process, also known as rinsing, for four more cycles before the short orange hair is fully suds-free.

With the first half done, you have the red colt lift his flank so you could continue whilst you squirt another palmful of shampoo into your hand. You repeat your previous step of lathering on the little crop of hair known as Macintosh's tail. The tail, like its brother, is dirty and messy, and too takes longer than you expected. Forty seconds of lathering later, the tail is ready to be rinsed.

Grabbing another two-hands full of bath water, you begin the last step of rinsing. Pouring the water over the tail, you fake only three cycles, the shortest it has ever taken you (then again, he did have the shortest tail you'd ever seen on a pony. You figure this to be due to the fact that he was a natural-born worker, and that longer tails would get in the way). You feel a little glad that the colt hadn't taken long to clean.

Because he had been so cooperative, you reach behind you and produce a little rubber duck for Macintosh to play with. You place it in the water, saying, "There ya go." Macintosh stares blankly at the toy, and then at you, and back to the toy, and so on. You sigh at the failed attempt to amuse the colt and turn to the door to go and find another toy for him to play with.

You search through the toy chest in Macintosh's room for an alternative. After a minute of searching, you find nothing that looks good enough to play with while in the bath. Giving up, you leave the sky blue room and return to the bathroom, where from outside the door you could hear a few faint splashing sounds.

When you enter the bathroom, you are somewhat surprised at what you see. Macintosh, who is normally quiet and keeps to himself, is playing with the rubber duck he had moments before turned down. You smile at the cuteness, even going so far as to say, "Aww." Macintosh hears you with a startle and turns his head towards you. He quickly shoves the duck behind his back and pretends to clear his throat. Even though he was naturally red, you could see he was blushing.

Even after a moment's time of trying to convince him that play was okay, Macintosh still doesn't return to his past playtime. You give up trying to get him to act cute again and unplug the bath tub. You tell Macintosh that the bath was over, and he nods in understanding. Jumping with his front hooves over the edge, the red colt is able to make it over the rim and onto the ground, where he lands front-chest-first onto the ground with a thud. He stands up and shakes his head, showing he was all right. This pleases you, seeing as how you didn't want to bandage up a big colt like Macintosh right at the moment.

Grabbing the towel next to you, you bring it to Macintosh's mane and start to dry it. After the short orange hair is dry, you move on to his torso and hooves, and then his super short tail. When he is all dry, you put the towel away and kneel down to the colt.

Rubbing your hair through his messy yet clean mane, you tell him, "You can go now, Mac." Macintosh obeys and exits the bathroom to continue his daily activities. You clean up a few more things and follow the red foal to see what he was doing.

Later on, you're relaxing in the nice Equestrian sun that Celestia had raised that day, when all of a sudden you hear a crashing sound that scares the living Tartarus out of you. Jumping up out of your chair to see what had caused the ruckus, you find a small, surprised Macintosh standing yards away with a tree stump at his rear and a fallen apple tree behind that...

Scootaloo

You hear a loud crash in the kitchen just as you finish filling the bathtub. You jump at the sudden noise, and face palm when you put two and two together and realize what had caused it. "Scootaloo..." you grumble under your breath as you leave the bathroom to confront the orange filly.

When you enter the kitchen in Scootaloo's house, the first thing you notice is the disaster area in which sat a large pile of pots, pans and, sticking out of the pile, a blue wooden scooter. And sitting on top of that scooter was a little pegasus filly, a bit dazed after her big crash. Thankfully, you notice, she was wearing her helmet and was therefore unharmed by the falling cookware.

Scootaloo shakes her head and looks up at you, instantly smiling and blushing in embarrassment and guilt. You shake your own head and frown, in partial humor of the filly's klutziness and energy. "What am I going to do with you?" you sigh while walking over to clean the mess. You pick up the orange filly and place her next to you while you replace all of the pots and pans back to their respective places on the kitchen rack.

After you place the last pan on the last hook, you turn to Scootaloo and ask her to put back her scooter. The filly obeys, taking off her helmet and putting it on the handle bars. Once she's done bringing her instrument of speed to her room, she returns to the kitchen to receive further instruction from you.

Satisfied that everything was set in the bathroom (as far as you remembered) and throughout the house, you have Scootaloo follow you. Leading her to her bath, you only have to open the bathroom door to enable her to walk in. She looks up to the bathtub and instantly regrets following you, running towards the door in a last attempt to avoid bathing. You shut the door just before she's able to leave, causing her to comically run face-first into it. She removes herself from the door unharmed, but very grumpy.

"Come on now, Scoot," you say to her in an attempt to cheer her up. Nothing changes in the filly's expression. Suddenly, an idea comes to your mind. "I once bathed Rainbow Dash..." you say coaxingly. Scootaloo looks up in awe, not bothering to question the truth behind your words. "See, even the greatest flyer in Equestria needs baths."

Scootaloo gives in and walks over to the tub so you could put her in. You lift her up and drop her into the bath, causing her to slightly splash the water. She doesn't mind that you hadn't simply placed her in; in fact, she seemed to enjoy the little fall.

You grab the shampoo and squirt a palmful in your hand, ready to start. You place the soapy hand on top of Scootaloo's short mane and begin to lather it throughout. Scootaloo doesn't hesitate letting you clean her, fully confident that the very person who washed Rainbow Dash's mane could effectively wash her own. This only takes a short moment before it's time to rinse out the purple hair.

Dipping both of your hands into the tub water, you pick up a fair sized amount and bring it over the filly's head. You release the water and let it fall down on the soapy hair. Scootaloo remains neutral to the bathing and too lets the water fall on her head. You finish a moment later, your elbows feeling a bit sore because you had rested them on the tub's rim.

You remove your elbows from the side and reach over to the feather shampoo next to Scootaloo. You pour some of the odd-smelling gel into your opposite palm and start working it through Scootaloo's orange wings. You massage her muscles while you're at it, figuring that she would enjoy it. And as you suspected, she allowed (no, wanted) you to do so, a smile of relief coming across her face. Even though you had no wings of your own, you could only imagine the stress of moving them constantly in order to gain speed on a scooter. It was also now that you sort of pitied the poor filly for being unable to fly like her long-time idol. Putting all feelings aside, you return your mind to the washing and massaging of Scootaloo's wings, which you spend a little longer than need-be on for the sake of soothing the filly.

You submerge your hands into the warm water and bring it over the filly's wings. You try not to take too long on this rinse cycle, and with your efforts the wings are clean only a short moment later.

Now you move onto the last bit of the orange pegasus. Kindly asking her to lift up her flank, you grab the feather shampoo on accident. Scootaloo pokes you and points this out. You apologize and thank the filly for catching your mistake while you grab the right shampoo. Checking the bottle twice out of habit (you usually did this when you made mistakes), you squirt the right gel into your palm and work it through Scootaloo's purple tail. The filly doesn't mind you touching her tail, and lets you finish for another brief moment. Finally, it's time to rinse.

Grabbing a couple handfuls of water from beside Scootaloo, you pour some over her soaped-up tail, beginning the final rinse cycle. This doesn't take long, just like the rest of her, but still consumes a bit more time than the other rinse cycles. Now the bath was over.

Because you knew she wouldn't want to play in the tub (did Rainbow Dash do that? No, so why would she?), you unplug the porcelain bathtub and pick the filly up and out of the draining water. You place her hooves-first on the ground and grab the towel behind you. You wrap the cloth around Scootaloo's head and shake it, making sure to thoroughly dry her short mane. Then, you move on to her wings and torso, and finally her tail. Drying her, in the end like everypony else, only takes about a minute.

Scootaloo starts to dismiss herself when you stop her at the door. "Before you leave, I have a little something for you," you say while reaching into your pocket. You then pull out your Rainbow Dash toy, which you decided to sacrifice in order to brighten up Scootaloo's day.

Just as you expected her to, Scootaloo quickly yet gingerly grabs the figurine from your hands and begins to look it over. She is dumbfounded in glee at the gift, not bothering to give you a thankful look but instead dismissing herself again with her eyes glued to the new mini-version of her lifetime idol. You open the door for her, accepting her unshown thanks which you knew had to exist due to her reaction.

You smile warmly at the filly as she walks over to her room, opens the door and places her new favorite thing in the world on her bureau.

Zecora

You twist the tap off and stand up from the tub. You secretly wondered how a hut made of bamboo and woven tropical leaves could have running water and indoor plumbing. But that was a wonder for another time. You leave the tub's side and go to the door. "Zecora!" you call out for the filly.

The wooden door opens as a young zebra foal trots in. She looks up to and smiles sweetly. Her attire includes her usual neck rings (two at this age) and golden ear rings. What isn't usual on her is the red tribal paint on her face, which seem to be made into markings and symbols you can't decypher.

"Sorry to disappoint you Zecora, but the paint has to come off," you try to explain to her. "You wouldn't want to get the bath too dirty."

Zecora gives you a look of understanding and leaves the room. A minute or so later she returns with a clean face and still-happy mood. You nod in approval and go over to pick up the young zebra.

You place her in the tub and get to work. Grabbing the all-natural locally-made shampoo on the brim of her tub, you squirt a handful of the hair-cleaning gel into your palm and start working it through the filly's mohawk black and white mane, being sure not to touch the filly's ear rings (the piercings were fresh, and you'd hate to get them infected). The hair is stiff at first, but after a few short moments it falls limp and allows you to clean it. Her hair is surprisingly shorter than you had intially thought, but still takes a bit to clean due to the dirtiness within it caused by long hours spent outside.

Instead of your usual method of rinsing, which involved the use of two cupped hands, you use the handy clay bowl made for this very purpose by Zecora's family. As you submerge the bowl under the water, you notice that the sides are also marked with native markings. If your memory served you right, they were also the same ones Zecora had painted on herself. Must be a family mark, you figure. With the bowl's large size, the zebra's mane is finished and suds-free only a few rinse cycles later. Instead of returning to its full form, however, it instead remains flat and hanging slightly over the foal's left side. You would later fix this with the hair product left on the counter for you.

With her mane clean, it is time to move onto Zecora's tail. The filly reads your mind and already has her hindquarters lifted by the time you have a handful of shampoo ready. You thank her, surprised, and start lathering her black and white tail. Unlike her mane, Zecora's tail is what you suspect to be unusually soft for a zebra. You look at her questioningly, only to receive her trademark blank look. You shrug it off and continue to finish washing. The tail does match its mane counterpart in the sense that it's dirty, so it too takes a while to effectively clean.

Now that the zebra filly was fully cleaned, you decide to let Zecora sit in the bath for a bit, considering she and other zebras usually took less baths than humans and ponies. Unfortunately, she didn't have any toys that would really fit as bathtime play. Still, you had brought in her clay doll figures that were craftily made to look like zebras. They even went so far as to have little pieces of hay inbedded in them to resemble a mane and tail. "Neat," you think aloud as you turn one over to inspect it before handing it over to Zecora.

When Zecora gladly accepts your offering, you decide to sit down on the... "Er, what?" you ask as soon as you find out that there isn't a toilet in the bathroom. "Where do they... Oh Celestia." You facepalm as soon as you realize that their tradition was to use the outdoors as their restroom. You prayed they at least used leaves afterwards.

Sitting on the floor instead, you turn your attention from that disturbing revelation and back to the little Zecora in the tub. The striped filly is contently playing with her custom made toys. You observe her behavior with them, and mostly notice that she treated them quite differently than most fillies would: where ponies would care and love the little replicas, Zecora acted out scenarios with them, making them do actions such as talking, running and playing.

A few painfully long minutes of sitting on the hard floor later, you cut Zecora's playtime a bit short and take the toys from her. She doesn't object, even when you unplug the tub and lift her out of the water. You place her on the earth floor and reach over for the towel with which to dry the young zebra. Because there weren't any factories where zebras live, the towel was homemade like everything else in Zecora's house. The cloth was made of itchy wool, and you yourself would honestly hate having to use it every day to dry yourself off. Nonetheless, Zecora is obviously used to the towel's texture by the way she hardly reacts when you shake it through her mane, then her body and hooves, and finally her tail. You try your best to get between and underneath the golden neck rings, hearing their jingles as you rustled them, but in the end there still remains a bit of water on her unexposed neck. You hoped it wouldn't irritate her later on.

Now came a step you normally didn't do. You grab from the counter a bowl of odd-smelling hair gel and dip your fingers into the product. Lifting your now-sticky fingers out of the bowl, you bring them to Zecora's flat mane and start to try your best attempt at creating a mohawk. In the end, your efforts produce a not-too-shabby traditional zebra mohawk. Zecora gives you a look that showed you that she liked the feel of it. She blinks and nods thankfully and leaves to return to her usual activities.

When she's gone, you begin to clean up the bathroom and put everything away. As you pick up the woolen towel, you feel its texture once again and shudder. "I wonder how long it takes to get used to homemade things," you say out loud while throwing the towel into the bamboo hamper.

Author's Note

Proof read by Cyneryk and Scooterfiction

Octavia

You twist both knobs on the tub off and sigh in joy, finally able to extinguish the source of the noise. It wasn't the sound of the running water however, for you could listen to the rhythmic noise produced from millions of water droplets hitting water. No, the real noise you hated was the sound of an amateur trying her best to play Beethoofen's Fifth on the cello.

For an hour Octavia had been practicing her cello which she had gotten last Hearth's Warming, and so far she had not gotten any better at it. You were instructed to have her practice for at least an hour, and you were definitely not going to make her play a second longer! Each second felt like a minute, and each minute an hour. By now, an hour, you were starting to question why you hadn't gone mad. Nonetheless your patience had been succesful, and now you could finally get her to call it a day.

Leaving the bathroom at a brisk pace, you make your way through the Victorian house towards the sound of the "music" and arrive at Octavia's big bedroom. You knock three times on the door and hear the obnoxious noise stop. Knowing that no foal can reach a doorknob yet, you take the liberty upon yourself to open it. You see on the other side of the room a little grey filly standing on her hind legs perched upon a stool and three books looking at you. She has one hoof supporting the weight of cello next to her, and her other hoof holding up a bow with which to play the cello.

"Octavia," you start, "time for your bath!" The little earth pony is just as relieved as you to hear the news and jumps down from her podium. She avoids the music stand and trots on over happily to you. You move aside to let her exit first, and she nods in thanks towards you.

You lead the little foal towards her bathroom down the end of a hall and around the corner. When you arrive, you again let the little lady go first, recieving another nod. Once inside you close the door slightly and go over to the foal to untie her bow and collar. Half a minute of furious attempts at untieing later, Octavia takes over for you and gets it off in mere seconds. Wouldn't be the first time I've been outdone by a foal, you think in humility.

Picking up Octavia, you bring her over to the bathtub full of warm water, which Octavia gladly invites as she softly jumps out of your embrace. You reach next to you and grab the expensive name-brand shampoo, squirting a handful of the "rich and effective" gel into your opposite palm. You then begin to work the rose-smelling shampoo through Octavia's black mane. You spend a moment cleaning until her long mane is finally finished, full up with suds.

Now, instead of using the arduous method of rinsing with your hands, you retrieve a gold-tinted bowl and dunk it into the bath water. Picking it back up and its newfound contents, you bring the rinsing bowl over the filly's head and pour the water over her head. Octavia patiently lets you continue her mane rinsing for another three rounds. This task went over so quickly because of the bowl's superior size compared to your hands.

Kindly, you ask Octavia to please lift her tail, to which she obeys without haste. You thank her while you squirt another handful of red rose shampoo into your palm. When you have enough, you put away the shampoo and start to rub the gel into her black tail. This task doesn't take very long, and before you know it it's time to rinse again.

Grabbing the bowl yet again, you submerge it underwater and pour out the contents over Octavia's tail. The earth filly again waits patiently as you take multiple rounds to rinse her tail. This time, it only takes two more bowlfuls instead of three.

Now that you were finished washing the little filly, you decide to let her have some fun in the tub. Like you once heard from a book you read, "All work and no play makes Octavia a dull filly." You muse at the little joke you'd made while taking out a rubber duck in a tuxedo, quite fitting for a classy foal.

Octavia stares at the odd object in front of her like she'd never seen a toy in her life. She pokes at the duck and watches it bob to and fro for half a second. You frown at the thought of any foal going their whole lives without playing with a rubber duck. Your frown disappears when you realize that now you could break her out of her shell. "This is called a rubber duck," you explain. "You can push it around, make it swim, and," you submerge the duck underwater and squeeze it, "do... THIS!" you exclaim while emerging the rubber toy and squirting Octavia with some water. The filly brightens up at your action and giggles a bit. She then takes the toy away from you and starts copying what you had done, squirting you multiple times. You laugh each time at the little foal's fascination with this new piece of technology.

Around ten minutes of nonstop play go by before you inevitably have to cut it short and dry the filly. You promise her you'd brought more toys and that she could go play with those. If she was discouraged or sad that she couldn't play with the duck, she hid it well. You unplug the tub and take Octavia out, placing her on the spotless floor. You grab a bright white towel with a red O stitched in the bottom right corner and start to dry her mane, then her body, and finally her tail and hooves. You put the towel in the bamboo hamper beside you and stand up from your kneeling position.

Just as you open the door and let Octavia out, you hear the signature eight notes of a doorbell. You call out for them to wait one second and quickly hurry to the front door. When you open the white door, you see nopony at all. That is, until you hear a little white unicorn with a two-shades blue mane clear her throat.

You invite the filly in and call out to Octavia: "Octavia! Vinyl's here for the sleepover!"

Spitfire

As usual, you turn off the bath's faucet by twisting both knobs counter-clockwise (this seemed to be the overall setup for tubs in Equestria, you've noticed) and get up to prepare yourself for the next bath. This time however, instead of calling out for the foal of the hour, you exit the bathroom to go get her yourself. You'd learned that usually in the end ponies, no matter how tough they grow up to be, tend to hate bathing.

Spitfire's house setup was a lot like Rainbow Dash's and Fluttershy's, making you assume that Cloudsdale houses aren't too different. You smile to yourself as you think that you're officially the only human being to walk on clouds, all thanks to your boss's magic.

You reach the pegasus filly's bedroom and knock before entering. Once inside, your jaw drops at what you see.

Ten feet away from you sits... er, hangs, a yellow filly on a pull-up bar, dangling from her legs for a second at a time before she then picks herself back up and completes yet another sit up. She's sweating and exhausted, but from what you could deduct she wasn't planning on quiting anytime soon. You look up for a second and notice a Wonderbolt poster taped to the roof right above Spitfire, clearly there to give her motivation. Shoot, you think, just when you think you've seen it all, this happens.

Spitfire eventually notices you and jumps down from her high perch, clearly full of relief. She eagerly yet tiredly walks to your side, ready to clean off a day's workout. And from the retched smell of sweat you inhaled as she walked by, you could tell she needed it.

Quickly getting to the bathroom before the little athlete, you open the door for Spitfire and let her walk in. She nods to you in a thankful gesture and wipes a bead of sweat that had been sitting on her brow for a time. Seeing this, you pick her up in a sympathetic gesture and carry her the rest of the way to the tub, setting her in softly. She smiles at you, trying her best to express her great thanks for everything. "It's no problem," you answer to her infantile silence.

Wasting as little time as possible to get the sweaty filly clean and renewed, you grab the shampoo next to you and squirt out a small amount for the filly's short hair. You then bring the soap to her sweat-drenched fire orange mane and work it through thoroughly. She clearly enjoys the feeling of being cleansed, and seems a tad disappointed when you finish only a moment later.

You cup your hands and dump them into the bath water to rinse out the yellow filly's hair. You bring the small amount of water over her head and release it, sending it through her hair and removing the suds. You continue this task for a few more seconds, and then her hair is completely clean.

Now you grab the feather shampoo and ask Spitfire to kindly spread her wings. After thanking her, you massage the special soap in between her feathers, making sure to get each one. This takes relatively longer than most pegasi's wings, due to the excessive amount of sweat on Spitfire.

When you're satisfied the wings are clean, you return a pair of cupped hands into the water and pull up another batch to rinse of the pegasus's wings. They take much shorter to rinse than clean, and half a moment later you're ready to move on.

Grabbing the shampoo for a final time, you squeeze another handful out and ask a last request of Spitfire to kindly lift her tail. When she does so, you thank her warmly and work the sweet-smelling shampoo into her average-filly-sized tail. The tail is just as sweaty as her mane and wings, so again it takes a bit longer than usual to clean. Nonetheless, Spitfire doesn't even start to complain, and so you finish off with little trouble.

Now you cup your hands for a final rinse cycle and dip them into the water. You pour handfuls of the warm water over Spitfire's orange tail, and a short while later you completely rinse out the suds and sweat.

Deciding what'd be best for the future Wonderbolt captain, you bring out a few toys and let her relax for a bit considering her past workout. She looks upon the toys with only an ember of joy, and spends little time playing with them. Overall, she spends about five minutes just laying back and enjoying herself in the tub, with only about a second here and there of play with the boat and duck you'd provided. Nevertheless, you feel a bit proud for letting the goal-achiever rest a bit so she didn't overwork herself.

When you deicde that it's finally time to end the little therapeutic session, you notify Spitfire and unplug the tub. She gladly accepts your inviting arms as you pull her out and place her on the bath mat. You grab the pink towel next to you and bring it up to her mane. Spitfire sticks her tongue out slightly at the color, but doesn't resist when you start drying her anyways. First you dry her fiery mane, then her wings, then her tail, and finally the rest of her body.

After you put the damp towel away, you turn back to the filly and dismiss her. "Go rest a bit, and I'll be there in a second." She nods at your words, and turns to casually stride out the bathroom door. When she's gone, you take out a bottle of air freshener and spray some in the air, covering your nose so you don't smell the temporary mix of sweat and meadow breeze.

When you're done with the bathroom, you go out into the house and follow the path to Spitfire's room, where you expected the smell to be much worse. Upon entering, you not only find out that it is much worse, but that there's yet again a little Spitfire exercising, this time doing push-ups with her wings. You look at her dumbfounded. "You never rest, do you?" you finally manage to say. The clearly-strong filly looks up at you for a second and smiles at your bewilderment. You spray a bit of the meadow breeze in the room anyway, and then return the bottle to its place in the bathroom.