> Why Are We Dancing? The Flash Mob Fever
>  by Zephyr Spark
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1 The Quest Begins
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight and Spike were in town, sitting at a café, minding their business when suddenly Pinkie Pie hopped down the road. Dramatic violins played through the air, setting the mood. She opened her mouth and began to sing. 
“Hear me now, O thou bleak and unbearable place, though art drab and so dull, can’t you see? And a mare with her cannon aimed at your sad face, now prepares this town to party!”
Within a minute, every pony in town had joined in her backup chorus, singing a perfect four-part harmony. Twilight noticed ponies with no right to be dancing performing a well-choreographed dance number as they sang.
“She is Pie, Pinkamena, the mare of la Fiesta. Her Pinkie Sense calls and she goes! And the wild winds of fun times will carry her onward, O whither so ever they blow.”
To Twilight’s surprise, even Starlight had joined the dance. She looked baffled, as though she had no control over her own body. Out of nowhere, Pinkie Pie leapt between Twilight and Spike. She bobbed up and down to the beat.
“I am Pie, Pinkamena, the mare of la Fiesta. My Pinkie Sense calls and I go! And the wild winds of fun times will carry me onward, O whither so ever they blow.”
For some reason, Twilight could not stop tapping her hoof. Pinkie Pie grabbed Spike and spun him around.
“Whither so ever they blow,” she sang a crescendo while spinning faster and faster. “Onward to party we go!”
She spun like a rolling top, vanishing into the crowd with the confused dragon.

Five minutes later, Twilight woke up in the middle of the street. She had a vague recollection of dancing and singing backup to Pinkie, but it all felt like a dream. Spike and Starlight walked up to her with equally groggy expressions.
“Boy, that Pinkie sure knows how to throw a party,” Spike said as he sauntered up to her with Starlight. He stretched his arms over his head, cracking his back. “I’m gonna be feeling that for weeks.”
“Spike, where did you get that hula skirt?”
Spike glanced at his hips and saw a grass skirt that Twilight knew he was definitely not wearing a few minutes ago. After his initial surprise subsided, he shrugged. 
“Since when do you know how to hula?” asked Twilight.
“I don’t.”
“But you were definitely hula dancing in the middle of that song,” Starlight frowned. “I think? I remember doing a breakdance with Pinkie. Though I think my timing was off.”
“I remember parts of it, but only because we’re talking about it right now,” said Spike. “I feel like I would’ve forgotten all about it in a few minutes.” 
“I know, right?” Starlight exclaimed. “You remember it for a few seconds after it’s all over, but then you only have vague memories of the whole thing. And soon, even those disappear.”
“Weird. Well, I definitely don’t remember putting on this hula skirt.”
“It looks good on you,” Starlight smirked playfully.
Not one to miss out on a joke, Spike lifted up his nose and pouted like a diva. “You know it does. Cause I’m fabulous!”
“No one wears hula skirts like you,” she snickered. 
“I have to say though,” Spike took on a more serious tone as he scratched his hips. “I wonder where this thing came from. I hope it doesn’t belong to someone else. Knowing my luck, this belongs to Discord.”
“I’m more concerned with how we all knew the chorus to a song Pinkie made up. And how we all sang in perfect harmony,” Twilight said with narrowed eyes. “It’s like the entire town had rehearsed this. How do we keep doing this?”
Starlight shrugged. “Intuition?”
“But no matter where we are in Equestria, we always manage to burst into perfect song and dance. I never really thought about it before, but logically, it doesn’t make sense. How can all of Equestria be ready to sing and dance at any moment? We should—.”
“Hold up, I know that look,” Spike pointed at Twilight. “And I know what you’re going to say. You think we should go on some adventure to figure why we randomly burst into song and dance. And I’m sure it would be a crazy adventure with laughs, silly, and friendship lesson crammed in there, but just think about it for a second. Does it really matter why we dance all the time? I mean a little dancing and singing never hurt anyone.”
“You do realize you’re wearing a hula skirt, right?”
“It’s kind of hard to forget.” Spike glanced down at his waist. “What’s your point?”
“Doesn’t that strike you in the least bit as strange? Don’t you want to know where it came from?”
“A little, I guess. But maybe I’m better off not knowing.” He shrugged. “Anyways, I can’t say this is the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me. Not even sure it would crack the top ten.”
“What could possibly be weirder than waking up wearing a hula skirt that you don’t even remember putting on?”
“Have you met Pinkie Pie? Or Discord?”
“Alright, point taken. But I have to know the answers,” Twilight said. “I’m going to the lab. And you’re both coming with me.”
As she walked away, Spike sighed. Eventually, a smile crossed his face. “Well, she wouldn’t be Twilight if she gave up that easily.”
“You know you don’t have to go with her,” said Starlight.
“No, someone’s got to keep that mare from going crazy. She’s just lucky I’ll stick by her no matter how crazy she gets.”
“You are a true one in a million friend, Spike.”
“Just one in a million?” Spike raised his eyebrows and put a hand over his chest as if he were offended, causing Starlight to laugh. “I’m at least one in a million and one.”
With that, the two of them headed off to the castle.
“Seriously though,” said Starlight, “where did you get that hula skirt?” 
“I don’t know. And I’m not sure I want to know.”
As they hurried after Twilight, a shady figure wearing a trench coat and hat, hiding their eyes behind black spectacles and a newspaper, watching from the corners of the building, spoke into their walkie-talkie.
“Orion, this is Alpha. Someone’s asking questions. The Princess of Friendship, herself. Yes, don’t worry. I’ll cover this up before they get too nosey.” A voice came through the speaker again. “What? Seriously? We’re out again? Well, can’t you just go to the grocery store?”
After some further mumbling on the other end, the trench coat figure sighed.

“Fine. I’ll visit the farmer’s market. Bye.” The pony turned off their walkie-talkie and grumbled. “Freaking cheapskate, making me come all the way out to the boonies just for a jar of pickles.”





This wasn’t the first time Twilight donned a lab coat and hooked Spike up to some crazy machine. Granted, it was probably the first time she looked for any latent dancing instincts. She studied the graph paper the machine printed out, looking for some trend. Starlight sat in a recliner, eating popcorn
“These suction cups are itching my forehead,” Spike complained.
“Just keep them on,” Twilight murmured as she inspected the graph paper line.
“What are you even looking for?” Starlight asked between mouthfuls of popcorn.
“Something out of the ordinary, something strange.”
“Something strange? I think I’m looking at it.” Spike gave Twilight a flat expression as the lab-coated mare poured over her graph paper.
“Ha ha, very funny,” she rolled her eyes, as she mulled over Spike’s results. “It doesn’t make sense. I’ve taken data from all three of us, and dozens of other ponies, and there doesn’t seem to be any significant deviation. No signs of crowd manipulation or anything that could make us burst into song and dance.”
“Does that mean I can go now?”
“Not yet, Spike. I need to make sense of this.”
“That’s the problem, Twilight,” Starlight said. “You’re trying to rationalize something that just isn’t rational. We don’t burst into flash mobs because of some deep scientific mumbo jumbo. We just want to.”
“Hmm,” Twilight muttered as she studied Spike’s results scrupulously. “Yes, that’s right. It certainly is difficult to rationalize this mumbo jumbo.”
“Are you listening to me?” Starlight said, slightly annoyed. “This is just pointless. You said it yourself that your research isn’t showing anything. I think you need to let it go.”
“Just give up, Starlight,” Spike sighed. “When Twilight sets her mind to something, no pony can stop her. She’ll go to the ends of Equestria to get her way.”
“Hmm.” Twilight smiled. “That’s not a bad idea, Spike.”
He slapped his forehead and groaned. “Me and my big mouth. I really need to just keep it in.”
“Spike, Starlight, pack your things. We’re going on a quest.”
“For friendship?” asked Starlight.
“No,” said Twilight. “For science!” 
At that moment, Pinkie Pie came bouncing into the room. 
“Starlight,” she said. “I need you to help me help someone with something! It’s super-duper-ooper important. Drop whatever you’re doing and follow me!”
“Great!” Starlight beamed, throwing her empty popcorn bag into the air. She looked at Twilight with a sheepish smile. “I mean, oh no, looks like I won’t be able to help your science quest. Okaygottogobye.”
She was gone before the alicorn could say another word, leaving Spike with Twilight.
“I’ll go pack up your suction cups,” said Spike, scratching at the nodes on his head. “Or, did you want me to keep them on?”
“Well…”
“Don’t. Answer that. It’s a joke.”
> Chapter 2 The Best Little Hoe House in Canterlot
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

They caught the first balloon to Canterlot, and went to Twilight’s old home, where Twilight’s father greeted the pair. Once Night Light stopped gushing over Spike’s new wings and took almost a dozen new family photos, he sat down on the family couch and briefly explained that Velvet was away on some personal business. 
“So, dad,” said Twilight with her journal ready, “what can you tell me about the compulsive singing and dancing sickness?”
“Well dear, to tell you everything I know, I’d have to start way, way back. First things first, you need to understand that the world was different when your mother and I were your age. Canterlot had customs and rules that citizens had to follow for their own safety, and eventually, many of those rules just became accepted tradition. So much so, that we don’t even bother asking why we do the tradition. For example, females outnumber males almost 6 to 1. Nobody can’t explain why, but it’s always been that way.”
“More like 7 to 1,” said Spike.
“Yes well,” Nightlight cleared his throat. “My point is that somethings, traditions or ways of life, become so second-nature we don’t even question them.” 
Twilight frowned. “Are you saying you don’t know?”
“Well, no. Just that you need to think about things in context. Things were different before you were born.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Come to think of it, we had a little song about Canterlot back then.”
“Really?” Spike’s eyes flattened. “That’s gotta be the weakest musical cue I’ve ever heard.”
“A law was made a distant moon ago here,” sang Nightlight. “The mares in waiting cannot be too hot. And there’s a legal limit to the hoes here. In Canterlot.”
“Dad!” Twilight exclaimed with disgust. “Not in front of Spike.”
“I know what a hoe is, Twilight,” said Spike. “It’s literally Saint Nicolas’s catchphrase. Ho-ho-ho.”
“Oh, Spike.” Nightlight chuckled. “I was actually singing about the gardening hoes. Some folk always believed a hobby of gardening could do wonders for a growing pony’s physical features and health. It’s a shame we don’t have more hoes.”
“Wait, why is there a legal limit to the hoes?” asked Spike. “Does Princess Celestia have some kind of vendetta against hoes?”
“Please stop saying hoes,” Twilight muttered under her breath. 
“Well,” Nightlight was silent for a moment.  “I… er … the thing is… one day ponies discovered that hoes were… impractical. Because we can’t hold them without… getting sweaty.”
“Dad, don’t confuse Spike. If you don’t know why there’s a limit to the … hoes,” she said this word with great reluctance, “…  then you can just say so.”
“Yes. I suppose so.”
“Quick question” said Spike. “Why can’t the mares in waiting be too hot?”
“Because they might have a fever. It will all make sense if you hear the rest of the song. Now, where was I?”
“Hopefully,” Twilight said through barely contained frustration, “about to answer my question without singing?”
“The hoe house is forbidden till December,” he sang, oblivious to his daughter’s irritated expression. “All country music singers must get shots. By order, dancing’s legal in September. In Canterlot.”
“Excuse me, quick question,” said Spike. “What’s a hoe house?”
“It’s …” Nightlight noticed his daughter’s scathing glare and stammered, “well, it’s basically a shed for hoes.”
“And the shots for the country singers, are those so the singers don’t contract fevers from the mares in waiting?”
“Precisely.”
“Okay, continue.”
“In short there’s simply not, a more congenial spot, for clop—” He paused and looked at Spike and Twilight, “I mean, for order and democracy. Than here in Canterlot.”
“Well, that was,” Twilight paused. She couldn’t begin to describe the song without using words she couldn’t say in front of Spike. “It still doesn’t answer my question. So, could you just tell me about the dancing flu?”
“I’m getting there,” said Nightlight. “It’s all explained in the tenth verse.”
“Tenth?!” she exclaimed with unbelievably wide eyes. “You want to sing nine more verses of this?!”
“Plus, a ten-minute dance interlude.”
Twilight rose to her hooves. “If it’s all the same with you, dad, I’d prefer an answer without the musical number.”
“Oh, I see,” he said, looking just a little disappointed. He glanced at a clock on the wall. “Oh dear, looks like I’ve been singing for a little too long. I have an appointment in ten-minutes with an old friend. You’ll probably find some answers in Yakistan. They’re pretty big on dancing and singing.”
“Yakistan?” Twilight said, shaking her head with disbelief. “That isn’t exactly in my backyard. But I’ll do it, for science! Spike? Why don’t you head home and take a break?”
“Nah. I’m good.” He smirked. “Besides, when’s the last time we’ve been on a quest together?”
She smiled at him. “Then, let’s get going. Dad? Tell mom we said hi.”
Nightlight watched as they headed to the door with a smile on his face. The moment they left, the blue stallion sunk into the couch and stared at the ceiling. 
“You can come out now.” He turned to the shadows of his curtain drapes. A pony, wearing a hat and trench coat, stepped out from the darkness and greeted Nightlight with a slight nod.
“What do you want, Beta?”
“There might be a problem,” said the pony. “She’s getting in too deep. We should stop her. Most ponies can’t handle the truth.”
“She’ll figure it out eventually.”
“Then why didn’t you just tell her?”
Nightlight sighed. “I tried to. But I guess the singing frenzy is just too powerful.”
“There’s another problem. The hoes have been acting up again. This time it’s guitars, ukuleles, and double bases.”
“Those instruments,” Nightlight put his hoof to his chin. “Does that mean…it’s back?”
“Yes. And unfortunately, it’s already claimed your son.”
“Faust. That’s not good.” said Nightlight. “Well, at least he looks good in a skirt. What’s the plan?”
“From here, we have to wait until it returns. Then, we take him to the hoe house, and see if Orion can fix it. Let’s hope we’re not too late.” Beta looked away from Nightlight to the kitchen and cleared his throat. “Hey? Do you happen to have any pickles?”
“For buck’s sake,” Nightlight groaned, “why can’t Orion just buy his own pickles?”
“We’re on a budget. Remember?”
“Fine. Just help yourself.” As Beta went to the kitchen, Nightlight grumbled. “Freaking cheapskate.”
> Chapter 3 The Pickle Thickens
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Well, that was pointless,” said Twilight as they made their way to the hot air balloon.

“But why’d we leave?” asked Spike. “I wanted to know more about hot mares in waiting and the hoe houses.”

“Please stop saying that word.”

“What word?” Spike asked with a frown. “Houses?”

“No, the other one.”

“Hot mares in waiting?”

“Just, forget it. That whole talk was pointless anyways.”

“Talk? He was singing like 90 percent of the interview.”

“That’s my point,” she said. 

“So, he caught the musical flu too?”

Twilight paused, opened her mouth to speak, but then considered the question. 

“Actually,” she said, “I don’t know, Spike. Maybe, if we went back and talked to him, he wouldn’t even remember most of what he said.”

She opened her journal and scribbled down some notes.

“So, we’re going back?” asked Spike.

“I’m not listening to him sing nonsense again. Besides, he’s got an appointment.”

“Well, I still think we should split up and check out all the hoe houses. Ooo, I got it! Let’s go talk to a hoe-expert! I’ll bet they know something useful about hoes.”

“Spike, so help me, if you say that word one more time I am going to ground you for a month.”

“Alright, geeze,” he said, raising his hands defensively. “I’ll just be quiet.”

He managed to be quiet for a whole five seconds, before he stopped in his tracks. Twilight noticed he was no longer by her side and looked back, realizing he was trembling, eyes wide with apprehension. The moment passed and he stopped shaking.

“Spike? What’s wrong?” 

“I don’t know,” he said. “It felt like I just walked into a cold space.”

“A cold space?” Twilight put her hoof into the space around him. “Well, it feels fine.” She then put her hoof on his head. “You’re a little warm, but still fine.”

“Yeah. Maybe I had a brain fart or something.” 

They continued walking, but Spike seemed shaken, preoccupied. Twilight found it disconcerting.

“Spike, is something bothering you? I know I kind of forced you to come on this mission, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“What? Oh, no, no. That’s not it. I was thinking about…something else.”

“Like what?”

“Usually, when we break into song and dance, we kinda forget what we’re doing and we don’t completely remember it afterwards? Right?”

“That seems to be the pattern. I’d also add that it seems like we don’t have total control over ourselves at the moment it happens.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Why?”

Spike was silent for moment. “Never mind. I’m just being crazy.”

“Whatever’s bothering you, just tell me.”

“Promise you won’t get mad?”

Twilight blinked. “I’ll try.”

“It’s kind of a weird idea but … when Princess Celestia made you an alicorn, did she… you know…?” He did a little shoulder jig and hummed.

She turned around so sharply it made Spike flinch, raising his hands defensively. He was sure she was going to scold him. But then, she started trembling. It started from her lips and worked its way up to her eyes.

“I’m sorry!” he said. “It’s not like—”

“Not like what? Like Princess Celestia never really wanted to make me an alicorn?”

“Twilight! That’s not what I said!”

She took a deep breath, trying to calm down. “I know, Spike. I know. I’m just a little upset.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“That’s not it,” she said. 

“What do you mean?”

“I’m a bumbling failure who couldn’t make friends for most of her life. Princess Celestia would never choose me to be an alicorn. I know you’re right. I’ve always known it. Ever since I got these wings.”

“Twilight,” Spike said. “Have you been feeling this way after all this time?”

She nodded without looking at him. 

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, “No pony could’ve made a better alicorn than you. Look at everything you’ve done! Beating Tirek, stopping Discord, and rescuing Princess Luna. Look at all the lives you’ve touched! Starlight, Luna, me. Equestria is a better place because of you! Heck, I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for you.” Spike hugged her leg tightly. “If you asked her, Princess Celestia would tell you that she’s so proud of you.”

“But you have to wonder …” she said, “if she wasn’t completely in control of herself when she made me an alicorn.” 

“Well, even if she was,” he said, “she made the right choice.”

“Spike, I…” she found herself tearing up even more. She hugged him back. “Thanks. I needed that.”

“Just promise me you’ll talk about it when stuff’s bothering you, okay?”

“Promise.” She said with a smile, as she wiped away her tears. “You’re the best, Spike.”

“I guess I have my moments.”

She chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Come to think of it, I think she sang an aria just before she changed me. But I don’t remember her dancing.”

“See?” Spike extended his hands emphatically. “All is well. Now, what do you say we head to Yakistan and talk to some Yaks?”

“Sounds good.”

The two walked off, side by side, failing to notice the trench coated figure who followed them. As the two headed into the square, the figure pulled out their walkie-talkie and spoke.

“Orion, this is Delta. The target’s on the move, headed to a hot air balloon. Yes. I think the Princess is starting to realize the truth. Understood. I’ll tell Kappa to watch them in Yakyakistan. Hopefully, he can make his move before they get in too deep. … For the last time. I’m not buying you anymore pickles. Just get your own. Hey! Don’t yell at me! You don’t exactly pay any of us. … Don’t worry, I’m sure Beta and Alpha can get you the pickles. Just, try not to eat them all at once this time, okay?” The figure hung up the walkie-talkie and grumbled. “Cheapskate.”