Fluttershy’s cottage looks relatively peaceful. The keyword here is 'relatively'. That’s because, in comparison to the rest of Discord’s mayhem, it doesn't appear to be nearly as chaotic as the rest of Ponyville. The birds that are burrowing through the ground by spinning like a drill and the turtles that have water cannons mounted on their backs are fairly docile compared to many of the things you’d witnessed that day.
You can’t help but think to yourself, This is going to be a peace of cake. Maybe strawberry cake. Or oreo. This is Fluttershy you’re dealing with. Maybe if you were dealing with a slightly temperamental blue jay you’d be concerned, but Fluttershy? There are phone books more frightening than her!
Nevertheless, there’s something a little… menacing about this upcoming ordeal.
You shrug. The feeling’s probably just something you ate earlier. Your friend told you a week old cinnabun would taste horrible, but you believe stale pastries are an acquired taste.
You give Fluttershy’s door a push. It swings open with little resistance.
“Like taking candy from a-” You stop mid-sentence. A reasonable thing to do, considering a bucket, one which was perched precariously on top of the door, has suddenly fallen on top of your head. The contents soak you to the bone.
You were right, that off feeling is just the cinnabun acting up. This cottage isn't eerie- just annoying.
“Ha!” a voice cries out. As you take off the bucket, Fluttershy flies into view, a sinister smile stretching across her face. “Hey, idiot! What’s soaking wet and clueless?”