Silence Broken
The royal Canterlot library seemed even more quiet than usual. Its rows of shelves filled with silent tomes of every subject from magic spells to zebra history. This massive collection of knowledge drew ponies from all over Equestria to its halls of study. Those charged with its upkeep are many and today being Thursday that meant that I was on duty from sunrise till sunset. Inkwell Scroll paced down the long aisle of the Equestrian history section making small mental notes of books that needed to be reorganized later.
“Why is it that I agreed to work Thursday s again; they’re supposed to be the day I do research but instead I’m walking down every hall in this eerie place waiting for someone to come and possibly need help?” He thought to himself as he passed from the section on the three tribes dated B.C (Before Celestia) and into the newer section detailing the founding of Equestria and forward. Inkwell paused in front of a small tome resting eye level near the beginning of the isle; the book became surrounded by a light orange aura as it pulled itself off of the shelf and floated to be in front of Inkwell’s face.
“Equestria: The Golden Age, now that is a title maybe I can write something with a title like that something that just screams ‘you must read this!’.” Inkwell let the thought die down as he placed the book into his left satchel and began pacing more down the aisle. He found many of the books in this part of the history section were covered in thick layers of dust except for one book that was constantly checked out. It was a large tome with an armored ponies head surrounded by five gems. The name escaped Inkwell as he came face to face with the central check out station in the center of the library. Walking around to the side of the circular desk and lifting up the small separator with his head; Inkwell found his pillow still in the same place he had left it nearly an hour ago.
He slumped forward as he sat down letting his satchel fall off of his sides and onto the ground. Opening the left side and levitating the small book from earlier out onto the counter he opens the book with his muzzle and begins to let his eyes drift through the pages. As his eyes fell onto the first sentence he heard a small ding and looked up; his vision zoned in on the small figure in front of the counter with a white satchel detailed with what looked like a pink star that matched the cutie mark on her flank.
“Oh no; I was hoping I wouldn't have to use this today,” Inkwell’s thoughts turned to dust as he readied himself for this checkout. The purple unicorn levitated three large tomes all from the advanced magic section of the library onto the counter and presented a small paper note with her intent to check them out. Inkwell readied the spell and as soon as he began to move his lips the purple unicorn heard Inkwell’s voice or at least she thought she heard it.
“Advanced Teleportation Spells Vol: 2, Magic Theory on Life, and the Legend of the Elements of Harmony. Will that be all today Miss Sparkle?” The purple unicorn nodded and placed the three books back into her bag. Inkwell levitated a the small piece of paper up and double checked the name on the parchment and the titles of the books before signing it with a small quill from beside him. He passed the paper over into the purple unicorn’s magic as Inkwell’s own orange tinted aura was replaced by a pink one and placed into her bag.
“Thank you come again,” he said with a half-hearted smile as she began to walk away from the counter.
“Thank Celestia she left!” Inkwell sighed as he let the spell he had cast drop and the noise that would have seemed to come out of his still moving lips disappeared. With her out of range she wouldn’t be able to pick up on the telepathy any longer. Being mute had its problems and having to constantly deal with ponies was one of them. Inkwell loved to be around other ponies but what he didn’t love was constantly having to strain himself with magic exhaustion to be around them. Telepathy had its appeal to most unicorns but since mind reading was really a tedious act and caused more stress than it was worth most of them left it in their books of study. On the flip side however telepathy could be used to place a voice into someone’s head just as well as it could put someone’s thoughts into your own.
A loud sigh came from his mouth as he flipped the sign on the counter to show he was going on break and levitated his satchel back onto himself. Leaving the central checkout counter behind him Inkwell trotted happily toward the older section of the library that housed the rare books. He came to a small alcove in the back of the section with a small cushion and lamp set up for a scholar or student to read without leaving the area. Inkwell moved the cushion to the side and pressed down on the stone below it to have a small trapdoor spring open behind him. He placed to cushion back into its usual spot and began to walk down the stairs the trapdoor had revealed. The smell of stone and moisture hit his nostrils as he came to the bottom step and looked out to see his small room still tidy and ready for his return.
The small room located a few meters below the library floor had originally been a sort of storage area made to house extra supplies during the famine several hundred years ago, but had long been forgotten until two years ago. Inkwell had been working in the rare book section when he had sat down on the cushion up stairs and when a door from nowhere opens up; well the curiosity nearly killed him. The original room had only a few bales of hay all old and rotten with a barrel of cider nearly turned to some sour and undrinkable concoction from its years of dark and damp storage. The head librarian Tome Keeper didn't know what to do with the room and decided to leave it up to Inkwell since he had been the one to find the place. Now however it was Inkwells home for the time being and with being his home it also became his personal break room. The place had a small bed adorned with red sheets and a mangled pillow that had fallen onto the large circular rug on the ground. The rug was an eye sore but it helped cover up some stains that refused to come from the stone so Inkwell couldn't complain. The bedside table was topped with a random assortment of books from a basic writer’s manual to an advanced guide to sweets.
Inkwell smiled at the cozy little place; it reminded him of home in a strange sort of way. He marched over to the small table and fridge he had been able to sneak in on a weekend of work. He opened the fridge to find sweets and fruit in the first two top shelves and bottles of sarsaparilla on the last shelf. He levitated the remains of a half-eaten lily sandwich onto the table along with a small blueberry muffin and a bottle of sarsaparilla. He began to chow down on the meager meal when he heard the ringing of a small bell above him.
A sigh of disappointment and a staircase later Inkwell was back in the above ground area of the library. Above him he heard a much larger bell ring signaling noon for the city of Canterlot and for him a missed lunch. Trying to hurry as his stomach growled he found the source of his abrupt end to lunch in the form of a grey stallion standing in front of the checkout desk. His saddle bags bore the seal E.R.S (Equestrian Revenue Service) with its gold and silver balance proudly displayed. Marching beside him Inkwell took notice of the gray stallion’s dark black hair and the symbol of a check in a box that adorned his flank. His grey coat was visible only on his lower half; as he wore a very clean and pressed looking jacket and tie; the stallion looked up from the checkout counter to observe Inkwell approaching him.
The professional looking pony extended a hoof in front of him, “You are Inkwell Scroll correct?”
Inkwell extended his right hoof out to meet the questioning ponies own and shook his head. With the hoofshake and meeting requirements done the stallion from the E.R.S reached into his left saddle bag with a hoof and brought a form into the light.
“My name is Census and I am here on part of the Equestrian Revenue Services bi-yearly census for metropolitan and smaller town areas. As such I have been sent to record yours and many other ponies’ information for the upcoming tax season.” Inkwell felt a lump begin to form in his throat at the thought of yet another census. He had been lucky to have had the head librarian cover for him during the last one, but it appeared that this time there was no escape.
“Well Mr. Scroll since I have a train to catch in a few hours we must not doddle,” Census said as he began to trot down an aisle of the fiction section. Inkwell followed and prepared his spell in preparation for the unfortunate meeting and felt his stomach growl in response to his summoning of magic. Census came to a small reading area and sat down on a small green clothed throw pillow with the census form in front of him. Inkwell sat opposite of him ready to answer any of his questions even if not all entirely truthful.
“Now then Mr. Scroll we’ll start with the questioning. Firstly please state your name and current employment position.” Inkwell readied himself for the long and painstaking meeting; wishing that he had been able to grab even a bite of his sandwich.
“Inkwell Scroll currently employed as one of the three assistant librarians to the head librarian Tome Keeper.” Census took out a small quill and ink as he filled in the form with the quill held in his left hoof. The questioning began slow and boring with the most basic of information that was needed but soon fell more into the private area of Inkwells’ life and work.
A few hours passed and finally the last question that Inkwell knew of to be on the form came, “Have you now or ever had a disability that affected your ability to work or live?”
This was always the most difficult question to answer, and it was always the one that Inkwell felt the least guilty about lying on. Shaking his head no and seeing Census fill in the last blank area of the bottom of the sheet sent Inkwell into a pure feeling of release knowing that as soon as Census exited the library he could go back to his now dinner. The gray E.R.S agent stood up onto his hooves and cleaned up what little was left of his forms; placing a majority into his right saddlebag.
“I believe that is all Mr. Scroll thank you for your time and have a nice day.” Census turned and began walking toward the checkout desk in the center of the library; his short black tail barely moving as he walked away. Inkwell felt a sigh of relief coming on as the weight of the day started to shift off as he saw Census just about to exit the fiction section as Inkwell trotted behind him. Feeling that the meeting was over Inkwell let his spell fall away and felt a grin across his face as the thought of cake filtered into his thoughts. Licking his lips in anticipation Inkwell was too caught up in his own daydream of the dessert to hear the loud slam of the library doors being pushed open and echoing throughout the building.
Census froze in place and the daydreaming Inkwell walked into the standing stallions plot and fell backwards onto his own.
“What was that?” Census asked with a sense of worry and anxiety in his voice. Inkwell shrugged and made his way past Census into the clearing of the checkout desk, but he instead saw a pair of Pegasus flying around the upper domed ceiling of the building. A light grey Pegasus with a blonde mane was being chased by a very angry looking jasmine Pegasus with a tiffany blue mane. The pair were in a chase obviously as the grey mare swooped down past Inkwell and made eye contact with him for a moment; or at least he believe she made eye contact with him he wasn't sure which way she was looking. The jasmine one however swooped down and nearly crashed into the cobblestone flooring, but managed to pull up at the last second avoiding a horrible crash; the pairs chase became more eradicate as the grey mare tried to avoid the jasmine mares wrath.
The chase made a nose dive and nearly took Census head off as they flew mere feet over his head. Flying through the aisles and the maze that was the library; a loud thud was head and a voice echoed through the library.
“I just don’t know what went wrong.” Inkwell raised an eyebrow and began to trot toward the source, but as he neared it he began to see bookcases tipping over one by one heading toward the fiction section. Inkwell’s realization came only too late as he heard a howl of pain and galloped toward the source. Finding the E.R.S agent Census trapped under a large bookcase sent Inkwell into a bit of a nervous state.
Census opened his eyes and saw stars as he tried to make out the figure in front of him, his star filled vision became even more blurred and he fell back into unconsciousness. Inkwell attempted to push the large shelf off of him but found it to be of no use. Inkwell began to sweat as his mind raced to find a solution; he was too weak to lift the case himself and those two mares from earlier would be of no use. He had to find help and quick, dashing toward the entrance he exited into the street outside and found the sunlight to sting his dilated eyes. The adrenaline coursing through his system Inkwell inadvertently began casting his spell on ever stallion he could find and in a few moments of frantic mind speak had three guards and a few civilians rushing with him toward the accident.
The extra muscle easily moved the large shelf and the guards quickly rushed Census toward the Canterlot hospital for treatment. The E.R.S agent was badly bruised and had a major concussion but the doctor assured all that he would be fine in a few weeks. Inkwell slipped past the doctors into the room they had placed Census in; feeling guiltier than the two Pegasus that had been found in the library who were now cleaning up the place. Inkwell slowly walked up toward the hospital bed and saw the grey stallion lying there with bandages wrapped around his head and leg in a lift as he quietly rested. Inkwell’s adrenaline rush starting to fall back to its normal level he felt his body sag and sat down on his hind legs beside his fallen questioner.
Census’s eyes began to slowly open as his focus came into view to find the white hospital room with the brown stallion he had been questioning earlier sitting next to his bed.
“What happened?” Census was shocked to find himself uttering the question almost as a reflex to the situation. Inkwell looked up to the find the injured agent looking a bit out of it but still awake. Inkwell still a bit weak felt the last of his reserve magic build up go into his spell as he began to explain what had happened in the library. Census eyes grew large at the utterance of how long his hospital stay would last; and began to struggle a bit.
“I can’t be here for a few weeks! I have to be on the train by tomorrow; if I don’t complete my E.R.S duties they’ll fire me!” Census began to try to escape his bed but was held down by the sitting librarian.
“You can’t leave, you’re too hurt!” Inkwell spoke into Census mind, “If you leave you could get worse especially if you try to travel!” Census stopped struggling and went limp as he resigned to his fate and knew that the librarians’ reasoning was too sound in this case.
“But I need to be on that train. What am I supposed to do if I can’t make my meetings?” Inkwell saw tears begin to form in Census eyes and simply couldn't stand seeing a grown stallion cry.
“Why don’t I finish your meetings while you recover?” No sooner had the question left Inkwell’s lips that Census was shifting forward and wrapping his forelegs around Inkwells neck.
“Thank you Mr. Scroll! Truly thank you! You’ll need to take my bag and be on the train by four O’clock tomorrow morning.”
Inkwell looked over in the chair for the room and took the saddle bag that sat in it, “But what am I…,” Inkwell was cut short as a doctor entered the room and ushered him out.
Frustration built up in Inkwells stomach as he entered back into his room under the library. The long day was ending and with it Inkwell had to show for it was simply an empty stomach and a long job that he regretted taking on immediately. Inkwell lifted himself into his small bed and felt his empty stomach growl, but the weakness in his body kept him in the sheets of his bed. Inkwells eyes closed as he thought and tried to understand his last thought of the day.
‘What have I gotten myself into?’
A “Short” Train Ride
The old musk that filled Inkwells nostrils reminded him of his first day on the job. The building had seemed so large to him back then with its massive volume of tomes that soared into the heavens of the rafters above, the sheer ominous feeling of being so alone for hours on end, and even the anxiety of hopelessness that filled you when wandering the aisles of shelves.
Inkwell felt a small smile cross his lips as his orange magical aura gripped tight the last book from his nightstand; his eyes drifted across the tomes title and wondered why he had thought “A Brief History of Satchels” had sounded interesting enough to him.
Shaking his head and snapping out of his trip of nostalgic bliss Inkwell latched his left saddle bag closed and looked around his small room. The ancient store room seemed so inviting as he prepared to leave for however long; his small bed seemed to call him to sleep once more, the small fridge and table of scratched oak beckoned him to eat one last meal, the entirety of the small enclosure called out to his sense of fear. His resolve to leave weakened; why should he leave his life of content to finish a job for a pony he had never even met before? He had so much more he should be doing instead! Inkwell kicked his back hoof into the old stone of his room’s wall and heard a loud slam that caused him to jump. Inkwell ran up the stair and out of the libraries trap door.
His breathe came in swift successions as the chill of the domed building started to set in; with the spring time weather unusually warm out the buildings stone interior seemed to resist the heat and hold in its ancient chill. Inkwell calmed himself as he steadily walked toward the checkout counter for the last time in a long time, or at least that’s what Inkwell feared. The mahogany wood seemed to gleam in the light beckoning Inkwell to simply walk behind it and stay. Inkwell walked on past the temptation of the calm that he so wished for and breathed in slowly as he approached the libraries exit out into the street. However as Inkwell exit the building the chill of his home seemed to linger as he headed toward the station for his early departure to Fillydelphia, the city of brotherly love, the motto was the only bit of information that still seemed strange to Inkwell after his late night research into the metropolitan area.
The warm spring air put a bit of giddy up into his pace as he heard the chime from the town bell alerting him to the new hour that dawned.
‘I hope this bit of a trip doesn’t last too long; the cake I have in my fridge might spoil by the time I return,’ Inkwells thoughts always seemed to turn toward food whenever he found himself in a sticky situation. The thought of the rich cake that nestled within his fridge brought a stream of drool into his mouth and moistened his tongue as he walked aimlessly toward the station.
The Canterlot train station came into view as the stark noise of the trains steam engine broke through the air; the buildings large glass windows glared in the early morning sun and seemed to detour Inkwells walk forward as he attempted to shield his eyes form the beams of light. The dark purple and golds of the stations walls drew in passerbys that would marvel at the strange beauty in the marvel of Equestrian engineering. Inkwell took a seat onto a small wooden bench that looked out onto the tracks, which stretched from the city’s walls and into the tunnel to the outside world. Inkwells eyes fell onto the locomotive as it began to pull into the station.
The gyration of its steel mesmerized young fillies and colts that stood next to their parents waiting for the large and new to them steel contraption to come to a stop.
The train halted in front of the large platform that held ponies of young and old simply waiting to depart from the royal capital; the doors opened and a small flood of visitor rushed out and with them came their luggage. Small carryon purses and bags and large luggage that took carts to empty from the space inside, and as the coach seats let out and the passengers dispersed then did the car in front of the train open to let the select few out of their first class seats and onto the platform. Inkwell recognized few of the faces that exited the plush car; there was the unfortunate Upper Crust who sent her tutored children to the library once a week to study. However once out of their mothers sight the children would usually wander the library reading fantasy books and napping in the children’s section rather than studying the large textbooks their mother had set aside for them. Inkwell never did understand how such nice children could come from such a rotten apple such as Upper Crust.
The others that followed her seemed to simply be her entourage of lackeys and yes men who beckoned to her every need. She took a private entrance into the station and disappeared much to Inkwells relief; a medium built stallion finally exited the train and looked around from above his small eye-glasses. His dark black mustache and beard seemed to grow out to a point and simply stay there as he pulled out his small bronze pocket watch with one hoof.
“All aboard for Fillydelphia,” at once the crowd of ponies lined up with tickets in mouth ready for the bearded conductor to stamp the parchment of passage. Inkwell found himself behind a rather small filly whos yellow coat was adorned with small freckles across her face; her large stallion of a father stood next to her his coat the same shade of light yellow s his daughters. Inkwell didn’t recognize the father, daughter team that stood in front of him which relaxed him.
The line seemed to move in quick succession as each ticket holder was quickly checked by the stallion conductor and then lead onto the train. As the two in front him walked through the trains doors and sat down on a small two pony seat Inkwells thoughts shifted back to the first train ride he had taken as a colt. His mother had needed to visit the large market inside Canterlot and with his brother at magic kindergarten for the day, Inkwells mother was forced to bring the small colt with her onto the train. Inkwells mind snapped back to reality as the waking world conductor tapped him on the shoulder. “Sir your ticket,” the ticket in Inkwells satchel glowed bright orange as he gripped the small parchment with his magic and pulled it out. The conductor inspected the ticket and with a look toward Inkwell stepped aside and allowed him into the trains’ compartment.
Inkwell found a small two pony seat near a window in the front of the car and sat down ready to try and get this adventure over sooner rather than later. Inkwell levitated his saddlebags onto the seat next to him and the heavy object fell into the seat with a loud thud that made him cringe. His head swiveled back and forth looking to see if anypony was now staring at him; Inkwells eyes widened as he saw the young filly from earlier staring at him with a small smirk on her face. A blush came to his face as he turned back toward the front of the car and tried to sink down into his seat in hopes that she would forget that he was there.
The train lurched forward as Inkwell finally began to relax in his seat and out of his satchel he pulled a small apple. Red and delicious Inkwell felt that eating the small fruit now would help ease his traveling fears and with a silent chomp bit into the apple. The fruits tangy juices filled Inkwells mouth with a small stream of drool pooling out of his lips as he lost himself in the bites of happiness; sounds of conversations and small coughs filled the trains compartment but the noise fell onto silent ears as Inkwell lost himself in his small pleasure. Minutes passed and with his apple devoured and a very long train ride still ahead Inkwell filled his head with thoughts of what to do with his time. An idea popped into his head as he pulled Census Takers folder out of his satchel and looked at the first pony on the list he now had to go down.
‘Mushroom Cloud, why in the wide, wide world of Equestria would anypony name their child Mushroom Cloud I mean what is she a bomb expert?’ The thought made Inkwell laugh silently to himself as he checked out her information from the last census taken a few years ago, and everything on it made Inkwell shiver with doubt at his attempt to meet such a pony.
The skills this mare possessed seemed to be something out of a comic book to Inkwell; looking over her training in fungi and their use for remedies and such seemed to be fine.
It was the addendum that followed that disturbed him ‘Three counts of misdemeanor poisoning’ the thought made Inkwell gulp inaudibly. What if he met this mare and just because he didn’t say she looked nice she tried to poison him with something horrible? He shook his head violently and looked past the little bit of information that was written down for the dangerous mare and found the address he was to find her at. As the train rattled on and the day seemed to become more dusk outside; Inkwell put away the small manila folder in lou of a small book he had taken for the purpose of simply passing time. “The Time Spell” by H. G. Whinny, the book was always a laugh to Inkwell as a young colt who would image himself traveling through time and fighting off extinct creatures. The book became a small thing that he always enjoyed rereading and now seemed the perfect time as the car started to go silent with now sleeping ponies.
His light orange magical aura opened the small tome and flipped to the first page with its yellowed coloration and its rich aroma of age; Inkwell began to read by the light of the moon as the train hurried on toward his destination.
“Hey mister,” the small yellow filly poked Inkwells face with her front hoof, “Mister is you ok?” Inkwells eyes opened to find the brightness that was the sun shining in his waking retinas and as his vision cleared the sight of the small yellow filly came into view. She looked up at Inkwell with a goofy grin on her face; Inkwell could tell she was holding back a fit of laughter.
“Mister you have some dried drool on your muzzle,” Inkwell blushed a bit and his horn lit up to lift a small towel out of his satchel to wipe his face clean of the dried saliva. The young filly began to laugh and ran behind Inkwells seat toward where she had earlier sat with her father, however now he saw the car to be empty and felt the ground to be still under hoof. Inkwell walked toward the cars door and looked out onto the open platform outside.
Knotted wooden paneling felt strange as Inkwell trotted forward with his satchel resting heavily onto his back. The fine smell of baked goods and the rich aroma of age that filled the city of Canterlot seemed so different from the stark smell of metal with a strangely sweet smell of vegetables and fruit; Inkwell walked into the small station with its aged stained-glass windows casting colorful shadows onto the rich teal marble floor. A pair of pegasi hovered in the air above the crowd of ponies that hustled through in an attempt to board their respective trains; the two small male pegasi smiled at each other before sharing a hoofbump. Inkwells attention was drawn away from the mid-air powwow to a small circle of squealing mares that were in the midst of exchanging hugs and hellos.
The aura of happiness that the group emanated gave Inkwell a bit of a smirk as he found the exit to the stations main lobby and walked out onto the streets of Fillydelphia. A vast collage of building unfolded before Inkwells eyes as he strolled down a cracked sidewalk toward a large aged building with tall white marble columns. Many a mare and stallion walked past Inkwell as they went about their business; some making their ways home to whatever waited for them, some attempting to get to work, and some young ponies simply enjoying the bright sun above that Celestia had brought up this morning.
Inkwells trot was halted as he passed a small café; the rich aroma of chocolate and fudge wafted past his nose and drew him inside. The cafés interior was a small well lit area with small candles light to create a relaxing mood inside as a costumer feasted upon their treat, and finally he walked up to the small counter in the back of the store. A young stallion with a beret and a coffee cup for a cutie mark stood behind the small display counter that showed up to wandering eyes a wide assortment of treats. However, Inkwell found himself drawn to the sight of a small piece of chocolate coated white cake that made his heart skip a beat as he imagined the rich flavor enveloping his taste buds. Saliva filled his mouth and finally he realized that the young stallion behind the counter was staring at him with a look of bewilderment as to why anypony would simply stand there for so long without saying a word.
“Excuse me? Do you want something or are you just going to stare at the display case all day?” The stallion grabbed Inkwells attention finally and waited for a response to his impromptu question. Inkwell looked around the small café and found only a few other ponies inside luckily as he began to think of his thought spell; he sought out the minds of everypony nearby. The three costumers were an easy pull as he just needed them to be able to think they hear him speaking from a distance the tricky part as always was simply getting into the minds of those nearby. In whole the spell took merely a few seconds and then Inkwell spoke, “Sorry I was just admiring the small bit of cake there.”
The stallion gave Inkwell a strange glance as he slowly walked into the back of the cafe leaving Inkwell with an empty stomach and an unsatisfied sweet-tooth. Pulling himself back outside was a bit of self-control that Inkwell surprised even himself with; the thought of cake nagging in the back of his mind. He quickly began to trot away hoping to find some sort of distraction for his cravings.
Passing by shop after shop selling everything from sweets to bullhorns; the latter made Inkwell take a step back in surprise before continuing on in his attempts to find the mysterious mare he sought. Finally a small shop drew his attention and he halted in his tracks. The shops store front sold oddities of every kind from poison joke, to fossilized wooden earrings, and strangely enough mushrooms of every color and shape it seems.
Time seemed to slow as Inkwell saw the large form of a stallion coming toward him from behind the store window and in only a second the stallions form had crashed through and landed on top of Inkwells now dizzy head. As the world began to spin Inkwell saw the shape of a small mare walking through the broken window and stepped down onto the sidewalk.
" THAT'S WHAT I THINK OF YOUR DISTILLED MUSHROOMS!" The small grey pegasus radiated a sort of rage that made even Inkwell shiver out of pure fear. Suddenly the image from the file flashed into his mind and he felt his spell kick into action.
"Mushroom Cloud?" The grey pegasus looked up in bewilderment and sought out the source of her name before looking down at Inkwell still under the other stallions unconscious form.
'Please say no,' Inkwells hopes and dreams were quickly dashed as he heard a soft yes from the mare.
"Pony Feathers..."
