"Don't tell me you believe that magic tripe! It's aliens, man! It's all aliens!"
Meringue put down his sandwich and gave Trail Mix a flat look. "Aliens."
"Yeah, man! Like, how else are you going to explain all the psychic powers and the mutant mumbo jumbo? The galactic confederacy genebombed us man! There's no other explanation!"
"So, the whole magic spells thing—"
"Psychic nanobots, man!"
"... And that message from Sunset Shimmer—?"
"Pff. OBVIOUSLY she's just an AI that's focused on directing our culture to join the confederacy."
"You know something, Trail Mix? Sometimes, I just can't believe you."
"You've just got to keep an open mind, man!"