Ch 1: Still Number One, Baby!
“Theirs not to reason why; theirs but to do and die.” ~Alfred Lord Tennyson
“Wow, what a beautiful day! I just love oxygen!” exclaimed Twilight Sparkle. As she settled down underneath her favorite reading tree, she opened her book to the middle and began reading, most likely because the front half of her book was filled with blank pages or memoirs or something unrelated to the actual story.
It was quite a beautiful day in Ponyville, though nopony really cared to know in the first place. Yet something seemed too beautiful; sort of a superficial beauty, perhaps. It was a sort of uneasy peacefulness that hung about. A sort of vomit-inducing pleasantness, coupled with the strong hint that some sort of original character would cause a massive disturbance, sending the seemingly perfect day into a fit of chaos.
And it DID.
Not too far from Twilight’s reading spot, there lay a dirt road that led to a town which will now be irrelevant to the rest of this narrative. And at the far side of the road, there sat a chicken; an ordinary, innocent, harmless chicken. The type of chicken that, as a human, you would rather see as a sandwich and drumsticks on your dinner plate. Motionless, it focused its beady eyes upon Twilight, who was too engaged in her book to notice. The hours dragged on as the chicken kept at his post, budging not even once. Watching. Waiting. Snoring.
Snoring? Oh, never mind that—the reader only fell asleep.
Unable to take much of this, the reader grew tired of the poor suspense developed so far. All logical fourth walls shattered as he demanded that the author add some plot to the story. “Very well,” the author grunted, silently arguing that no one understood his work.
What happened then, no one knows. Perhaps the chicken grew tired of its location, or perhaps the author wanted to throw a twist into the plot for purposes of appeasement. Whatever the case, the chicken flapped its ivory white wings and dashed across the road, cackling for all to hear.
Unfortunately for poor Twilight Sparkle, she had engrossed herself too much in the reading of her suspenseful mystery novel. “Everything was quiet…too quiet,” she had silently read aloud. “Then a hoofstep. She turned around, and a scream escaped from her lips.”
BAGAAAAAAAAAWK!
“EEEK!” The sheer volume of the chicken’s cluck flew Twilight straight to the upper branches of the tree. From her new locale, she watched the chicken sprint, Olympic style, across the breadth of the road before it vanished from sight.
Good grief, what a loudmouth! Twilight thought as she carefully shimmied down the tree. Grabbing her book, she shifted through the pages until she relocated her spot.
“A scream escaped from her lips. There he was, cowering above her menacingly. It was he, the chicken….”
Twilight paused as she glanced a second time at the mystery novel. Why would a chicken want to kill the honorable Mrs. Fillymon? Had she hidden some desirable corn feed in her cellar? Was her husband in cahoots with the fowl creature?
“Oh…the chaplain….”
That also made little sense, but she honestly couldn’t expect much from a novel that had received two stars from the Las Pegasus Times. Why had she purchased this book in the first place? Nothing excitable in the slightest had occurred so far.
Well, except for the supposed chicken chaplain, but there was no need to think of that anymore.
“It was he, the chaplain. ‘You’ll never escape alive,’ he whispered menacingly. ‘I’ll see to that!’”
That chicken did seem quite out of place on that side of the road, she thought. Apparently the chicken had felt the same way, since it had crossed the road so hurriedly. It must have simply changed locale because it felt like an outcast.
Wait, what about the risk factor? Any living creature crossing that road puts itself directly into any oncoming traffic. Why would a chicken put itself in imminent doom simply because it didn't like where it sat anymore? It was highly illogical—unless something valuable was on the other side. It must have had something—or some chicken—more valuable than its own life to protect. Its desires were obviously worth much more than its own personal safety; it had to cross that road.
So what if it needed to cross the road? It could have crossed at a later point; like when it was certain that it would avoid any accidents with ponies using the road. But no, it had to cross the road as soon as it possibly could. It didn't mind waiting until later; it just jumped up and ran. It had urgency; an urgency so strong that it just had to cross at that exact moment; waiting was not an option.
Why?
What was that urgent situation to which the chicken had to respond? It certainly needed a reason…right? Right?
Or…did it need a reason at all? Perhaps it simply just crossed the road because of its instinct. After all, chickens have no sense of reason. They just did what they thought; nothing more, nothing less. They weren’t capable of sound logic.
But were they capable of basic logic? Surely, they knew what was bad and what was good; what fear and pleasure were. If they could understand this basic logic, they could also comprehend basic reason, or justification in their actions. And if that chicken could understand basic reason, it must have had a specific reason for crossing the road in question. Thus, the chicken did not cross the road because it had too simple a mind in its head; it did so because had a reason.
What was that reason?
She could not understand. What reason in Equestria could possibly justify a chicken crossing a road? The puzzle had just started to fit so perfectly, yet the crucial piece was yet to be found. The little voices in Twilight’s head began torturing her with questions.
Why did that chicken cross the road?
Why the sense of urgency?
What were its motivations?
Hey, gotta nickel? No? How about a dime? No? How about $20? No? OK….
Using a poorly executed personification device, these questions squeezed out whatever sanity was left in Twilight’s brain. She clenched her teeth, groaning as the noose around her noggin grew tighter and tighter. Finally exhausted, she belted her frustrations out for the entire area to hear.
“I’ve got to know WHY!”
THUD! Twilight’s book smacked the tree as she threw it out of her way. Quite desperate, she galloped back to her library—or treehouse, perhaps—hoping to find the sacred answers she needed. She didn’t even bother to slow down as she opened the door and raced inside.
Bad idea.
“YIPE!”
Twilight planted her feet as hard as she could into the library’s wooden floor, but to no avail. “Why did the floor have to be waxed today?” she wailed. With a fitting OOMPH, she completely flattened Spike, scattering both dragon and checkers across the room.
Spike groaned, wobbling as he tried to stand up. “Sorry, Spike,” apologized Twilight as she helped Spike to his feet. “Didn’t mean to bump into….” She trailed off, staring at the checkers scattered about. “Were you playing checkers with somepony?”
“Well…I…yeah, I was playing…myself.”
“Why would you play checkers against yourself; seems rather pointless to me.”
Spike sighed deeply before replying. “Because there’s nopony else to play with. What I mean is, you’re always off reading a book, and you told me to never interrupt you while you’re reading a book. Everypony else is either working or sleeping, and Owlowiscious hasn’t been seen since season two, episode seven.”
“I truly feel bad for you, Spike, but now is not the time to feel sorry for your pitiful self. There lies a bigger problem on our hooves.”
“What kind of situation could possibly be worse than the fact that I have no checkers opponent?” asked Spike as a tear slid down his scaly cheek.
“A situation involving the motives of a chicken.”
Spike’s face twisted into all sorts of configurations before he could find the words to say. “Erm, what are you talking about?”
Dramatic trailer music began to play as Twilight walked to the center of the room. “Just moments ago, I distinctly observed a startled chicken, for lack of better vocabulary from the author, ‘whoosh’ across a road near my reading spot. What startled it? Why was it so afraid? And, most importantly…why DID it cross the road?”
Spike began to snicker at the sheer absurdity of Twilight’s theatrical vocalizations, but quickly ceased when Twilight shot a glare in his direction. “This is serious, Spike. The fate of Equestria could hinge on this single event. We must find a logical reason for an ordinary chicken to cross an average road, and you’ve got to do everything you can to help me!”
“And in what way would I, a dim-witted baby dragon, be of any assistance in your endeavor?”
Twilight ignored the subtle mockery that hung on Spike’s words. “Well, actually, I don’t know just yet. I’ll need to conduct some fundamental research first, and if I need you after that, I’ll let you know.”
“Fine with me. I’ll just go back to my checkers tournament for now. I’m ahead seven games to one!”
Spike bounced merrily around the library; that is, until Twilight gave him the “What in Luna’s horrid nights are you doing?” look. He tumbled over himself a little and gave her an awkward stare.
“Heh…I was *cough* just, ummm, checkers on the floor, and *cough* you know…shoes *cough* don’t exist, and ummm….”
Just keep it together Spike; forget that it ever happened.
Spike then began picking up stray checkers, delicately maneuvering the pieces back into place. He started humming one of his little ditties as he finally resumed his game. Eyeing the board, he carefully chose a red checker. The board rattled violently as he slammed the piece on its new position.
“You’re going down, Spike.”
* * *
Twilight squinted as she peered over her encyclopedia. “So, chickens and roads share about 0.125% of their DNA? Interesting….” She continued jotting down her notes, “Scientific hypothesis shows that the relationship between the average chicken and….”
With a loud snap, the tip of her quill broke and fell to the side of her desk. “Shoot!” she cried in frustration.
Suddenly a shot rang out. Twilight spun around, quite surprised at what she found. Spike returned her flabbergasted look as he blew the smoke away from the pistol he held in his claw.
“Spike! Where in Equestria did you get that thing?”
“Some kind of strange animal walking on two legs put it in my hand and told me to wait for your command to shoot. He said it would make for an amusing joke.”
“I’m afraid our mysterious troublemaker has quite a poor sense of humor.” Twilight rolled her eyes in pure disgust. “Anyway, I have been quite unsuccessful in finding a suitable answer to our query. Therefore, Spike, I would request your assistance in questioning the residents of Ponyville.”
“And just what am I supposed to ask them?”
“Ask them why a chicken would cross a road, of course!”
Spike yawned rather loudly as he glanced at the library clock. “I hate to darken your spirits, but I believe it’s a bit too late for investigating. It’s nearly 11 o’clock, you know.”
“Wow, that late already? Time sure does fly when you’re studying, doesn’t it?”
“I thought it flew when you were having fun.”
“Fun and studying are pretty much synonymous though, right?”
“Yeah, sure, whatever.” Not wishing to encourage the debate, Spike lazily dragged himself upstairs to bed. He quickly glanced back at Twilight as she plunged back into her books. Chickens—blegh!
“With the scientific analysis of chickens and flowers combined, it would seem that the ultra-matrix of said analysis is equal to bunnies with hats.”
Twilight blinked several times, trying to make sense of the words before her. “Oh, wait a moment. Let’s see…. ‘With the scientific analysis of chaplains and few hours, most eruptions occur as a result of the upper division of top-hatted equines.’”
She groaned fiercely. The words latched onto her brain and went completely crazy. They used to be her friends; now they had turned into evil jokesters. “Why would you do this to me, words? Why? WHY?!?”
Unable to take much of this, she trudged up the stairs to her bed. She sighed as she snuggled under the covers. Tomorrow it would be clear. Tomorrow she would understand what the book meant. But until then, it would be a horrible journey through dreams of bunnies and flowers and chickens.
* * *
BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ! rang the bumblebee alarm clock.
CRASH! Spike’s hand swiftly smashed the confounded piece of annoyance. Why did Twilight set this irritating thing when she wakes up on her own? he moaned as he stumbled out of his crib…I mean, bed.
Spike groggily rubbed his eyes as he saw Twilight putting the finishing touches on breakfast. She quickly set two plates of oatmeal and apple slices on the table. Hearing Spike’s early morning groans, she greeted him with overenthusiasm. “Eat hearty, Spike. We have a long day ahead of us.”
“Twilight, I honestly don’t feel like eating a so-called healthy meal, especially since you got me up this early on a Saturday morning. I’d rather have my chocolate powdered sugar cereal like I usually do; it’s part of a nutritious breakfast,” Spike said with a wink and two thumbs…er, yeah, two thumbs up.
“Spike, you’ve eaten that cereal for breakfast for the past five months in a row. Can’t you take a break from it for just one morning?”
“My dear Twilight, my cereal is preparing me for a future position. One day I shall hold all of Equestria in the grip of my claw. I shall reign supremely, and none will be able to overthrow me. It amazes me how naïve you have been to my devious plans. I might as well explain them in full detail since it is only common of evil villains to do the same. You see, Twilight, my cereal has certain chemical properties that enable my growth rate to increase dramatically. When fully grown, I could be in excess of 10,000 hooves. When I finally achieve my massive height, I will overthrow Celestia and proclaim myself supreme dictator of Equestria. In short, I have the most diabolical plan to take over the world, and it all starts with the consumption of my breakfast cereal. MWAHAHAHAHAHA!”
“Ummm…okay then,” Twilight stammered. “We’ll talk about the entire absurdity of your 'plan' later—but first we have some questions that need answers. Let’s hit our friends first, and then we’ll move on to the rest of Ponyville if time allows.”
“Do you want me to hit them with a club or a stick?”
“Are you kidding me, Spike? That’s what you’ve stooped down to? Of all that we’ve been through, that’s what you come up with in response? I’m extremely disappointed in you.”
Spike lowered his head in shame. Why had he failed Twilight in such a disgraceful and pitiful manner? Was he losing his signature charm? Was this…the end?
Twilight looked at the disheartened dragon and smiled. “Hit them with Owlowiscious once he gets back; that’ll teach him to run off unexpectedly and leave all his feathers in the attic.”
A devilish smile quickly replaced the frown on Spike’s face as he roared triumphantly. “MWAHAHAHAHAHA! I’m number ONE!”
