A Romantic Poem Reading by Octavia

As you sit down in the front and center of the small audience, you take another glance around the room, seeing that it is rather small. The seats are made of red velvet, with the finest wood for the armrests and frame. The stage appears even more prestigious, with golden half-spheres lining the edge of the stage, where light would emanate from, illuminating the matching red velvet curtain in a way which is very appealing to the eyes. Marble columns stand in the corners of the room, giving the room a more rounded and upper-class appearance. In essence, the entire room spoke of the upper-class - neat, ornate, beautifully designed.

The culture of the audience complimented the five-star quality of the theater. Other upper-class colts and mares whispered amongst each other loudly enough that they could be heard, but quietly enough that everything they said is indiscernable. Besides the whispers, the room was fairly quiet.

Suddenly, an emcee trots across the stage until she is standing front and center before the audience, where a wooden stand is placed, along with some papers atop it.

The whispers fall silent. Clearing her throat, the emcee begins to speak.

"Ladies and gentlecolts, I now welcome you to our presentation of The Flower of the Field, a romantic poem read to you by none other than the musically acclaimed Octavia. We are ready to begin our reading of the poem by Wonder Wordsmith, and so without further adieu, please welcome, Octavia."

A soft clap reverberates throughout the audience as the emcee trots off of the stage. The lights in the room become dim, leaving a spotlight directed at the stand. After several moments, the curtain begins to rise, first in the center, and slowly towards each of its ends, forming a triangular shape, until it disappears in the catwalks. Octavia herself trots forward into the spotlight and takes a brief bow to the audience.

"Hello, everypony. I am pleased to be so honored as to have the privilege to read The Flower of the Field to you all, and I would like to say that you too are privileged to have the chance to hear it. It is one of my favorite pieces by Wonder Wordsmith, and I am more than happy to share it with you."

Meanwhile, backstage...

"Did you get the story?" asked the first colt.

"Yep, and this is gonna be good." replied the second colt.

The two colts snickered.

"You are the worst director in history, Goodfellow."

Goodfellow forced himself not to laugh at the other colt's remark.

"Alright, we're going to have to put duct tape over our muzzles or something, because this is going to be hilarious." replied the second colt.

"...Oh, Robin, you made sure that all of our audience members have been planted, right?"

Robin waved his hoof, "Of course! If I didn't, this would ruin Octavia's entire career! Life, even!"

"Good," Goodfellow replied.

"...Oh, Goodfellow, take out the story you switched out just to make sure we have it."

Goodfellow reached into the sack tied onto his side and procured a twenty page document, titled "The Flower of the Field."

"Here it is." Goodfellow responded.

Robin snickered, "And what clopfic did you switch it out with?"

Goodfellow smiled a mischievous smile, "Nothing I found was horrible enough, so I made my own, and titled it 'Rose Thorn'."

Robin grinned, "By the sounds of that title, I can already tell it's gonna be really, really, really horrible. Bad, and horrible."

Goodfellow looked back on the stage and noticed that Octavia was about to read after her long speech about the "poem" she thought she was going to be reading.

"Shhhh! She's starting!" Goodfellow hissed. Robin zipped his lip using his magic and shrugged, silently communicating that his lips were sealed.

Octavia took a sip of water, and began to read her illustrious, honorable, well-written poem with the character development that could only have been produced by an angel in her beloved... "poem."

You look up at Octavia intently in anticipation, as she looks back at you and the audience, and begins to read.

"...Rose Thorn? Hm, must be the name of the publisher. Oh well - onward. Ahem.

"Upon the green and lonely field, lay a colt who was in disarray,

He stared up at the sky on his own, wishing for a mare to come his way,

He longed for a partner, even for only a moment,

He longed for a mare, even for one minute,

"He let out a sigh, staring at the clouds,

How he adored those puffy white shrouds

Which floated in the air so sweetly.

If only he could share it with somepony.

"Never did he feel so alone,

So without another, so cold,

In his heart he could only moan

In response to his dreams of a lover so old.

" "Dear sky," he cried, "I wish for another,

Somepony to love as my only one,

With whom I may hover

Through the world, under the golden sun."

Meanwhile, backstage...

"Uh, Goodfellow, I'm looking at the original script for The Flower of the Field, and the story Octavia is reading sounds a lot like it."

Goodfellow gave a sly smile, "Don't worry Robin, I planned this. This way, she won't realize where the poem is actually going."

Robin processed the information Goodfellow gave him, before suddenly realizing what he meant. "Oh, I see what you did there." He replied.

"Shhhh, she's getting to the good part!" Goodfellow responded, "Hilarious change of plot in three, two, one..."

"And so the sky sent forth a Rose,

Of whom to satisfy the colt's remorse,

Lovely and gentle, a flower of the field,

She had a rose coat and mane, with gossamer white clothes.

"The colt lay eyes on the beautiful Rose,

Immediately he knew that it was she who he would have chose

Amongst all the mares of Equestria,

So light and delicate - a sightly Rose!

"So the colt went down to Rose, ask'd "What is your name?"

Rose turned with a smirk, said "siddown, stud,"

The colt sat down in bewilderment,

Name's Rose Thorn - now lay down in the... mud? I don't remember this part..."

Octavia wrinkled her nose at what she was beginning to read. "Um... Heheh... Onward, then?"

"In disorented confusion, down the colt had lay,

Rose Thorn got down as well, "Now, what is your name?"

"R-Rain?" The colt replied, "My name is Rain?" he said once more,

Rose Thorn smirked, said "Now that we're aquainted, lets...."

Octavia didn't finish. Instead, she trailed off and continued to read the "poem" on her own, her face slowly beginning to develop a rosy hue.

"One moment, please." Octavia said to the audience, before trotting towards backstage.

"Oh crap, here she comes," Robin whispered to Goodfellow.

"Just play it cool and follow my lead." replied Goodfellow.

Octavia finally arrived at backstage, exchanging glares at both colts.

"What is this story? Because it is certainly not The Flower of the Field."

"...Well, of course it's The Flower of the Field!" assured Goodfellow, "What else could it be?"

"Goodfellow, this is not just any poem - It's a clopfic!" fumed Octavia.

"Now hang on, Octavia," replied Robin, "why would you say that it's a clopfic?"

"Why?" replied Octavia, eye twitching, "Because Rose Thorn is not the mare who the colt meets - she should just be Rose! And the author never gave a name for the colt either! Not only that, but NEITHER OF THE CHARACTERS EVER ENGAGE IN INTERCOURSE DURING THE POEM!"

"Well, that's the poem," replied Goodfellow obliviously, "so if there's intercourse in it, then there's intercourse in the poem."

"Now you listen to me, Goodfellow," Octavia hissed, "I am not about to trot back out there, stand in front of approximately fifty ladies and gentlecolts of the upper class, and read pornography in poetic form!"

"But Octavia," Robin added, "You already said to the entire audience that The Flower of the Field was your favorite piece by Wonder Wordsmith and that you felt privileged to read it to them. If you back out now, it'll raise eyebrows in the upper-class community!"

This was true. Earlier in the poem reading, Octavia had indeed said that this was one of her favorite pieces by Wonder Wordsmith. Her ffaavvoorriittee.

Octavia grumbled profanities under her breath.

"You both listen to me, you couple of perverts - if this ruins my career, I will find out where you live, and I will Pillage, I repeat, Pillage, your homeland!"

"Shhhh!" Goodfellow whispered, "The audience can hear you!"

Octavia glared, then turned around, trotting back to the stand with the "poem" that she would be reading.

"We believe in you, Octavia!" Robin cheered.

"You can do it!" added Goodfellow.

You see Octavia arriving back at the stand, looking a little frazzled, before holding the pages of the "poem" in her hooves and tapping them on the stand to even them out. Looking back at the poem, she flipped through a couple pages before picking up a little ways after the "poem" had left off.

"Eh-HEM." she "ahem'ed" angrily, before continuing to read.

"Rain stared back at the sky once more, disoriented by... endorphins,

As Rose Thorn petted her hoof along Rain's lower... Ahem.

Rain gazed back at Rose Thorn - when he asked for a mare, this wasn't exactly what he meant,

Even if she really was 'heaven-sent'.

" "Are you happy now?" she asked with a slur,

As she nuzzled close to his frazzled fur.

"I guess you could say that," Rain said, unsure if it was the truth or a lie.

"Good," she said ominously, in quite a dark reply.

"Rose threw him several feet - he landed quite hard,

Hitting the ground fiercely, feeling like a shard

Of a meteorite colliding with earth.

"Get up, and... bend over," Rose Thorn said with much mirth.

"Rain tried to get up, but Rose Thorn pushed him down,

Said "Get lower and lower, 'till your face nearly touches the ground."

And Rain did so, obedient to his new... master?

Rose tied her garment into rope, and...

Octavia stopped reading once more, this time getting red in the face. Losing control, Octavia shouted out to backstage.

"I figured this was a clopfic, but YOU didn't tell me that this was FEMDOM!"

"It's not!" replied Goodfellow from backstage.

"Yeah, it's just a little BDSM." added Robin.

"BDSM, BDSM, BDS... BDS-WHAT?" Octavia yelled furiously, before knocking the stand to the side and slowly. stomping. hoof. by. hoof. towards. back. stage. with righteous fire in her eyes.

"Uh, Goodfellow, Octavia doesn't look too good," said a nervous Robin.

"I agree with you Robin," replied Goodfellow.

"Got any ideas?" Robin asked.

"Yes." Goodfellow replied.

"What are they?" Robin asked again.

"...Run."

Robin and Goodfellow immediately charge out of backstage, right past you, and into the audience, with a furious Octavia keeping pace with them.

"Excuse me, pardon me, coming through, madmare on the loose!" shouted Robin as he sifted through the audience chairs to the exit with Goodfellow following as a close second just behind him.

"WHEN I GET MY HOOVES ON YOU TWO, YOU'LL NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY AGAIN!" hollered the furious Octavia.

Robin and Goodfellow began to run through the last leg of the audience, accidentally stepping on heads, hooves, drinks, and popcorn on the way out. Octavia, however, like a raging goddess, seamlessly pushed through the crowd. When Robin and Goodfellow finally reached the theater doors, they threw it wide open and charged right through, and not long after, a cry for a "taxi" could be heard out on the street. In good time, Octavia hopped down from one of the theater chairs and blew right through the theater doors like a missile.

You see all of this play out before you, and respond in the only way that you could respond as one of the other audience members crack up from the scene which had taken place. With a sigh, you sit back in your chair.

Well that escalated quickly.