Practical Effects
Hi! Um, hi. Yes, that’s right, I’m Twilight Sparkle.
Well, I guess it started earlier today. Rarity got the idea in her head that we hadn’t been doing much together recently. Which is utter bologna, of course! We’ve saved the world from everlasting night apocalypses, forestalled an ancient dragon's nap time, and explored a creepy, weepy diamond dog mine!
Huh? Friendship activities that don’t threaten life and limb? Friends do that?
Well, anyway, Rainbow Dash suggested we go to the movies. I was okay with that; I’d been to the cinema a few times since moving to Ponyville. The stories are kinda predictable, but Dash tells me half of the fun is in the visuals. I dunno. I think I prefer imagining the hero slaying the monster over seeing an overpaid actor swing a spear at a papier-mâché manticore.
Oh. Yeah, yeah, my point.
Applejack wanted to see the new superhero movie. I think she’s got kind of a crush on the main actor, Crisper Reed. Or maybe that Russet Crow guy. Rarity was pushing for Love’s Longing Linguini, but I really didn’t want Pinkie Pie to get any pasta-related ideas about love. She’s already convinced that the way to somepony’s heart is through their esophagus.
Huh. A Carb-Counting Courtship. Somepony needs to get to writing that.
The score ended up being Rainbow, Applejack, and me against Rarity and Pinkie, so we went to the superhero flick. Fluttershy abstained from voting, as usual. I have a nagging feeling she wanted to see the nature documentary, but knew we’d be bored out of our skulls. Besides, I can only watch a snake swallow a mouse whole so many times before retching.
Of course all these details are important! Give me a minute to explain!
We paid for our own tickets, naturally enough, but Pinkie wanted to pool resources to get a trough-sized popcorn bucket. I guess it’s a leftover element of my old lifestyle that I feel kinda wary of sharing food. I mean, do you know how many germs can collect on one square inch of hoof? Lots. Billions! Half of them will put you in the hospital, too. Yeah, breaking bread is a real old and classic act of friendship, but I’m convinced that popcorn should never factor into that equation.
Rainbow Dash pretty much drowned out any protest I was able to devise. All of my rational arguments, defeated by a rousing round of “So awesome!” and “Buckets for the bucket god!” I think I saw Rarity slip a container of hoof-sanitizer out of her purse. I resisted the urge to ask her to pour it on the popcorn.
I was slightly appeased after discovering that a single, small bag of popcorn would set me back ten bits. Ten! If that isn’t highway robbery, I don’t know what is! It’s just a bunch of exploded corn kernels! I could harvest and cook them myself if I wanted, and save myself a trip to the cinema.
Speaking of the cinema, I was utterly surprised at the high concentration of foals at the screening. I asked Applejack what the hay they were doing in a movie that was rated “Cutie Marks and Older.” She just shrugged and said that it was mostly up to parental discretion. I can see her now: “C’mon, Twi, it’s just a little hittin’. It’s a good aggressive outlet fer the colts.”
When I asked about the fillies, she mumbled something about Russet Crow and snarfed a hoofful of popcorn.
I feel like every single trailer gives away all the funny parts, gives away all the action scenes, or gives away the ending. It’s weird. Then again, if a trailer doesn’t do all that, then it feels like the movie doesn’t have anything interesting about it. This one trailer was complete blackness, and was basically a narrator mumbling something vague about something abstract. Geeze. I think I’d be laughed out of the publisher’s office if I came to them with a hook like that. Maybe the studio execs have lower expectations, I dunno.
Oh, right. That part. Yeah, I’ve gotten to it.
So there were these two colts sitting in the front row, Snips and Snails. They’re old enough to be young stallions, but they still act like they’re looking for their cutie marks. I swear I saw Snips eat a booger the other day. They were talking through all the previews. I mean nonstop, stream of consciousness, completely inane talking. One moment they were discussing whether Mare-Do-Well could take the Great and Powerful Trixie in a fight, the next they were wondering when the movie would start.
Okay, I was wondering that, too. The movie part, not the Trixie part. But I at least had the manners not to announce my bemusement to the whole theater. I had to chuckle a bit when I saw Rainbow Dash pick up a piece of popcorn and close one eye, like she was planning to toss it at the back of Snails’ head. Applejack batted it out of her grip before she could go through with it. That was kinda disappointing.
The movie was about to start when Rarity’s ears twitched, like she had heard something behind her. She excused herself and wandered two rows up. I watched her take a seat behind her sister and some colt; Button Mash, I think. Sweetie Belle blushed and scrunched herself lower in her chair, but I don’t think Button noticed. He was too busy tapping the arms of his chair like he was playing one of those arcade games of his.
Oh gosh, Snips and Snails. They just. Kept. Talking. All through the opening credits. All through the first scenes. All through the first big action set piece (I could totally see the zipper on the monster, by the way). I was ready to turn them into oranges and be done with it. Their yapping, and their chuckling, and their oohs and ahhs and…
Officer, are these hoofcuffs really necessary? Yeah? Okay.
Pinkie Pie passed the popcorn. Well, more like she passed the popcorn bucket. Empty, of course. She looked at me with pleading blue eyes and a pouting lower lip. How am I supposed to fight that? Those are the real big guns right there. I don’t know a single pony in Ponyville that can say “no” to that face.
She did have a point; I was sitting in an aisle seat, so it would be easier for me to get up and get the refill. I took the bucket and gazed into it, noting the presence of several unpopped kernels. Really? They gave us unpopped kernels? We paid good money for that popcorn and they didn’t even finish their job! It was, like, half-full with unpopped little bits of corn.
Well, I sure wasn’t gonna let those kernels go to waste. I lit my horn and pointed it at the little dipsticks. The kernels, not Snips and Snails. A quick heat spell sent them sizzling and hissing. I was certain they were about to pop up in all their buttery-salty goodness.
Applejack glanced over at me with a raised eyebrow. She asked me what they hay I was doing, but I just told her to wait and see. I felt like a genius! Everypony would get their popcorn, and I wouldn’t have to move until I inevitably needed to use the little fillies’ room. Foolproof.
Imagine my surprise when they burst into flames instead of popping.
What do you mean you could have told me that was gonna happen!? Who’s telling the story, here?
Sorry, Officer. I’ll keep going. No, you don’t need to get the muzzle.
But really, how was I supposed to know reheating kernels was a fire hazard? Horse sense? Huh? Whatever.
Sweetie Belle screamed first. I think most of the other ponies were too entranced by Crisper Reed’s flanks to notice the fire. Rainbow Dash, always the loyal one, bucked the trough-sized popcorn bucket out of my grip before I could get burned. Naturally, because of course it needed to happen, the bucket landed right at the feet of Snips and Snails. Thank the sun, moon, and stars, they finally shut up.
Then the screen started melting in the heat.
Were you around when Ponyville experienced a bunny stampede? Yeah? It was kinda like that, only instead of bunnies it was foals. Poor Fluttershy hid under her seat as the children swarmed around her. Pinkie rode the wave like she was at a rock concert or something. Rainbow Dash tried to put out the fire with a strong wind from her wings, but only succeeded in fanning the flames. I think she was kinda out of it with panic. It happens to the best of us.
Snips and Snails scrambled to their feet and danced around like chickens with their heads cut off. Don’t ask me how I know what that looks like. They crashed into each other and collapsed to the ground. Applejack took it upon herself to carry them out, so that turned out alright.
A few minutes later, the theater was empty except for me, Fluttershy underneath her seat, and Button Mash making “Pew, Pew” noises a couple rows back. I don’t think he ever noticed the fire. I sighed, conjured up a nice little deluge of water, and put out the flames. You’re welcome.
So now that you know what happened, I can go, right? Mystery of the Fire-baked Theater solved, right? You can just take your little keychain and unhook me, right?
What’s this about setting bail?
Dear Princess Celestia,
Public endangerment is a thing, apparently. Please send cash.
Your faithful student,
Twilight Sparkle