The morning started out like any other for Twilight Sparkle. Almost any other, that is – today would be the first full day she’d spend as a licensed driver. Sure she was twenty-four, but hey – she’d lived at her school and within walking distance of her home for the entirety of her life. She had never had need for a car. Now, though, at the urging of her friends (and because the Princess had been so kind as to provide Twilight with some spending money specifically for a car in hopes that the poor, self-isolating unicorn would attend more social events), she had undertaken a Driver’s Education course, and just yesterday had passed her test with flying colors, even managing to parallel park perfectly, a feat which had greatly surprised the older Pegasus overseeing the exam.
Now today, as a result, Twilight owned a car, and a legal driver’s license, and she would make great use of both of them.
Twilight Sparkle was going to drive to the bookstore.
Oh yes, she thought, I am living on the edge. I am driving to the bookstore. Twilight giggled to herself with a little too much glee, but first, I need to get out of bed. The purple unicorn threw off her sheets and sat up, arching her back as she yawned wide. Swinging her legs over the edge of her bed, she stood up and shuffled into her bathroom to begin the morning routine.
Ten minutes later, her shower complete, Twilight Sparkle donned her bathrobe and headed down the stairs into the main room of her library. She always made sure to put the blinds down overnight; Twilight had a tendency to walk through to main room less-than-fully-clothed first thing in the morning, wouldn’t want to unintentionally give anypony an eyeful. She looked down at herself – content that her bathrobe adequately covered her body, she reached out with her magic and lifted the blinds, letting the morning sun filter into the room as she continued to walk into the kitchen.
Grabbing a bowl and a box of cereal from the pantry with her magic, she retrieved her glass from the freezer and the gallon of milk from the fridge and poured herself a drink. Having absent-mindedly completed the task of acquiring a bowl of cereal, she seated herself at the table, and finished her meal in record time.
Ok, so maybe I’m a little TOO excited. If I’m too excited I’ll drive too excitedly, and I will be a hazard to myself and others. Calm, Twilight, calm. She inhaled deeply, pressing a hand to her chest, and extending her arm out slowly as she exhaled. I’m so glad Cadance taught me that breathing exercise. And that trick for parallel parking properly.
Placing her dishes in the dish washer, Twilight moved back through the foyer and up to her bedroom. Finishing out her morning routine with a thorough teeth-scrubbing at the hands of her magic, Twilight opened her closet and tried to decide what would be optimal clothing for the safest driving conditions. Eventually deciding on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, Twilight Sparkle got dressed and returned downstairs, scribbling a note for Spike to watch the library while she was out, and headed outside, where her shiny new car sat in the driveway.
It wasn’t fancy by any means, but it suited her nicely – a small Neighponese subcompact. Fuel efficient and light on its wheels. A digital speedometer kept her precisely informed of her velocity, and the large, central tachometer made it very clear when it was the appropriate time to shift. It even had a little plug for an iPon, but Twilight would not be using that. No, today was her first time operating a vehicle as a licensed driver.
There are to be no distractions. No radio, cellphone off, and iPon stays home. I will be a safe driver. I will be a good driver. I will. Alright, before I get in the car, there are checks to be made, to make sure everything at least appears to be in working order. It’s a checklist. I love checklists.
Twilight Sparkle strode around the car in a slow, deliberate circle, taking in every detail of the bodywork, windows, and the lights. Everything shined and shimmered, clean, pristine, and straight off the showroom floor. A tug at the hood and the trunk confirmed that both were secured completely and properly.
“Good, no unknown body damage, and the lights are clean and clear of obstructions,” she said to herself. Walking once again to the rear of the car, Twilight knelt down and looked into the exhaust pipe and at the undercarriage of the car. Once again, everything was just as it had been in the showroom, as the whole car had been less than twenty four hours ago. Nothing had unexpectedly made its way into the exhaust, and there were no critters living under the vehicle or bits of metal dangling off in ways they shouldn’t be. Standing again and brushing off her knees, Twilight pulled out a small device from her pocket and moved to the front left tire.
Twilight gently unscrewed the cap and placed the pressure reader over the nozzle for filling the tire, a quick hiss escaping as the seal was briefly violated.
Thirty-two point-oh PSI. Perfect. Removing the reader and replacing the cap, Twilight checked the remaining three tires, happy to find that they were all at precisely the optimal pressure for safe driving. Finally, with a great deal of excitement, she grasped the handle of the front driver’s side door, and pulled.
A soft thud was the only reaction as the handle reached its fully extended position with no change in the door’s closed state.
“Oh right,” Twilight blushed, concentrating on the keys she had left on the counter, teleporting them into her hand. She pressed the unlock button and a satisfying click reached her ears. Once again, she pulled, but this time, the door opened.
Looking at the driver’s seat, Twilight was filled simultaneously with a sense of excitement and dread.
“Oh, what if I get in an accident? What if I violate some traffic rule? What if…” she whined to herself.
“Twilight Sparkle. I’ve had my own license for almost six months now. Get in that car and go to the bookstore,” a sarcastic voice said from behind her.
Having long since grown accustomed to Spike’s unexpected appearances, Twilight simply turned around calmly. “Spike, but what if I –”
“Car. Driving. Bookstore. Now,” Spike interrupted, smiling, “I can handle the library for a while. Go on, Twilight. Have some fun.”
Twilight opened her mouth to object, but closed it again before nodding resolutely. Arguing with Spike over something as trivial as this had grown pointless a few years back, and Twilight did really want to go driving…
She took her seat. She closed the door. She buckled her seat belt, positioned the seat and steering wheel, checked the mirrors again, and put the keys in the ignition.
You can do this, Twilight. You’ve done it before a dozen times. No, more than that. It’s just like all that practice you got.
Setting her jaw, Twilight twisted the keys to the ignition position, and the little car hummed to life.
Twenty minutes later, Twilight was cruising down the highway doing a precise fifty-five miles per hour, with not another vehicle in sight. It was, after all, early afternoon on a Tuesday. Most ponies were at work at this hour, it would make sense for the roads to be sparsely populated. The lack of other drivers calmed Twilight. She felt better knowing that if something went horrendously wrong, nopony else’s lives would be put in danger because of her.
Glancing at the side of the road as she crested a hill, she noticed the mile-marker: Seventy-six, point two. Good, only four point eight more miles until my exit.
Then she looked at her speedometer.
Fifty-six miles per hour.
Fifty-six miles per hour, as in one more than fifty-five.
Fifty-six miles per hour, as in one more than the speed limit.
Twilight Sparkle slammed on the brakes, the inertia of her own body carrying her forward in the seat, the automatic locking mechanism in her seat belt kicking in, restraining her from going through the windshield. Though it did little to ease her tension, Twilight checked her rear-view mirrors, glad to find there were no cars behind her. She clicked on the turn signal and slowly inched to the edge of the road, pressing the button for her hazard lights as she rolled to a much gentler stop, putting her car in park before shutting off the engine.
I… I was speeding, the purple unicorn thought to herself in horror. I… I broke the law. I’m… I’m a criminal! Oh, what will Celestia think? She won’t let me be her student anymore, oh, she’ll send me to jail, I’ll probably be sent to the moon to live out the rest of my days in solitude! Oh no, how can I fix this? I can’t do that! I’ve only just started! Twilight had a death grip on the steering wheel, knuckles white, eyes wide open in terror. The best thing I can do to lighten my punishment is to turn myself in.
Reaching over to the glove compartment, Twilight opened it slowly, a lump rising in her throat. She took hold of her phone and turned it on, the infernal piece of technology taking what seemed like hours to be ready to place a call. With shaking fingers, Twilight dialed three digits, and then pressed “Talk.”
“Nine-one-one Emergency Services, please state the nature of your emergency,” a rather bored sounding mare’s voice answered after only half of one ring.
“H-hello. I w-would like to report a traffic violation,” Twilight managed to get out around her rapidly constricting throat.
“Yes ma’am, are you in any immediate danger? Could I get your current location please?”
Am I in immediate danger? Of course I’m in immediate danger! I’m going to go to jail for the rest of my life!
“N-no, I’m not in any im-immediate danger,” Twilight said shakily. “I’m just past mile marker seventy-six point two on I-93 southbound.”
“Excellent ma’am, I am ready to dispatch a patrol car to your position. Please state the nature of the violation, the license plate number and a description of the vehicle in question, and the direction it was headed, ma’am.”
“W-well, y-you see, I’m the one who… who made the violation… my license plate is 4242564. I was driving, and I looked at the mile marker for just a second, and when I looked back, I was going fifty-six! I broke the speed limit! I broke the law! I’m so sorry, please, please don’t send me to jail forever! I’ll pay the fine! Please! I’m so sorry, please…” Twilight wailed into the phone. She sniffled, waiting for a response.
She could practically hear the incredulous stare the phone was receiving on the other end of the line.
“Ma’am, at this point, I would normally remind you that misuse of the nine-one-one service is a criminal offense, but-”
“Oh my goodness I’m sorry I didn’t know please don’t send me to jail! I can’t go to jail, I have a dragon to look after at home, and-”
“Ma’am, I said normally. You are clearly incredibly distraught with yourself over what is, in all honesty, the most minor violation of law that can possibly be perpetrated. Ma’am, I would advise that you simply turn yourself around, head on home, and wait a little while before you head out on the highway again. So, for today, I’m going to let you off with a warning. But this is just a one-time thing, ok? No more second chances. This once, though, you seem to have punished yourself plenty enough for the mistake. It was an honest mistake, am I correct, ma’am?”
“Y-yes, it wa-ha-has!” Twilight sobbed into her cellphone.
“Very well ma’am. You sound like you’re in no condition to drive yourself home. Would you like me to send a patrol car to bring you back?”
“Mmhmm,” Twilight grunted pathetically.
“Alright ma’am. An officer should be there in about fifteen minutes, please just sit tight.”
Before Twilight could respond, a click informed her that the operator had hung up.
Today was re-shelving day. While it wasn’t his favorite task, it at least meant Spike had something to occupy himself completely for the duration of Twilight’s trip.
The sound of a car in the driveway, one that was definitely not a four-cylinder subcompact, drew his attention.
Well who on earth could that be? The only pony I know who’s car could make that noise would be… AJ, with her truck. But that isn’t a diesel engi-
Spike dropped the book he was carrying, a rather large and heavy volume meant to be a suitable stand-in for when having an entire encyclopedia collection would not be a plausible solution, directly on his foot when he saw the police car in the driveway. Ignoring the pain, he ran to the front door, and down the path to the driveway, meeting the policemare part-way.
“What’s wrong, officer? Is Twilight ok?” Spike asked the blue-clad mare, seeing his friend/sister/boss/mother sniveling and sobbing into her hands a few feet behind her.
The policemare smirked. “She’s fine. She just was speeding, and… well, I’ve never seen a pony this self-critical for such a small error. I mean, for Celestia’s sake, she accidentally went fifty-six miles an hour in a fifty-five area,” the smirk had grown into a broad grin, and was now barely contained laughter. Spike found himself in a similar state – he knew Twilight could be neurotic and had a tendency to blow little things way out of proportion, but this… this set a record.
“Well,” the dragon began, “Thank you kindly for bringing her back. I suppose I’m going to have to go get the car now?”
“If you’ve got a valid license I can bring you to it now.”
Spike dug into his back pocket for his wallet, retrieved his license, and handed it over. After a moment’s examination, the policemare handed it back.
“Hop in the car, son. Will she be fine on her own?”
Spike looked over his shoulder at Twilight, who had moped into the foyer of the library.
“She’ll be fine.”
Forty minutes passed before Spike returned. He entered the library, deposited the keys on the counter, and walked upstairs to check on Twilight. He wasn’t surprised to find her sitting on her bed, eyes red from crying, her mane a mess, and surrounded by wadded-up tissues. What did surprise him, however, was the letter in front of the mare.
“Twilight? What’s the letter for?” Spike asked. He might not be the smartest, or the fastest, or the toughest, but if Spike credited himself with one thing, it was always asking the simplest question to get the information he wanted.
“It’s my letter of resignation as Celestia’s student, and formally turning in my license to her so I can no longer drive,” Twilight said in a dead tone. “I want you to send it.”
“Twilight, I don’t think-”
“Send it now, Spike,” she said, throwing the letter at him with her magic. He instinctively caught it, and, shrugging his shoulders, blew a gentle jet of flame over the parchment.
“I’m worthless, Spike. Celestia would never accept a criminal as her student. I mean, a law-breaker! That’s what I am now, Spike! I don’t have a perfect record anymore! Anywhere I apply for a job now, I have to tell them I’m a criminal! I’ll have to tell neighbors and ponies anywhere I move to, ‘Hello, my name is Twilight Sparkle, and I recklessly endanger other ponies without a thought otherwise.’”
“Twi, I’m pretty sure it’s only sex offenders that have to declare things like that and… oh, wait… just a moment…” a familiar rumbling in his stomach informed him of an incoming letter. A gurgle and a belch later, a scroll sat in his claws.
“This is it, Spike. The end of everything Twilight Sparkle ever was. I’m nothing but a horrible danger to myself and societ-” Twilight’s self-depreciating pity-party was interrupted by something small and plastic striking her in the chest. She reached down to pick it up, shocked to find it was her driver’s license. “Spike, I don’t…”
“I think you should read this, Twilight,” he said, passing her the letter. He watched Twilight’s eyes scan down the page, suppressing the urge to laugh wildly as her brow furrowed, watching her read and re-read the same line over and over as her mind refused to process the information. In favor of processing, it shut down, as everything Twilight thought she knew about her mentor was taken from her.
My dearest Twilight Sparkle,
Don’t think you’re getting out of driving so easily. You take this license back this instant, and you get right back out on the road. If you think something as trivial as doing one over the limit on a highway is going to get me to reject you as a student, think again. I’ll have you know that I would be late for the opening of the Day Court every single morning if I didn’t regularly do seventy in a forty-five. I have more speeding tickets and traffic violations than my sister has years spent on the moon. I coined the term “speed demon,” in relation to myself. The way I see it, this is your first step towards making me the proudest mare alive.
Your petrol-head mentor,
Princess Celestia
