//------------------------------// // Chapter 2 // Story: Delivering on Sweetness & Beyond // by abrony-mouse //------------------------------// Ocean Mist paces up and down beside the wagon for a short while, with Crafty every so often throwing her a questioning glance. She approaches the strange, coarse, device and gives it a few experimental knocks with her soft hooves. "Interesting, interesting... hmm." She resumed pacing. Every so often she stops to prod a divot back into place where the wagon had scarred the bank. After five minutes or so, of this, she stops. “I have an idea!” Crafty looks up. “When my saddlebag is too full, I just take stuff out! So…” Ocean gestures to the wagon hopefully. “What do you think, boss?” “It is empty. That was our only delivery,” Crafty says, his neutral tone belied by a taut moue. “Aw.” Ocean looks crestfallen. “Wait a second. I'll be right back.” Ocean Mist scampers off, heading to the house. “Are there any others—?“ Crafty says to a rapidly departing pink tail, only for it to disappear as it whisks into the house behinds its owner. “She’s sweet,” Derpy observes. Crafty nods, glumly. Ocean Mist gallops back into Kimono’s house, slowing down only to enter the living room. Her hopes of finding her mentor unoccupied, however, are dashed when she sees Kimono at her desk with quill in hoof. Taking a deep breath, Ocean decides that, as it is an emergency, she must disturb her. “Miss Kimono?” The mare keeps scribbling, not looking up. “Mmm?” “The aliens are stuck.” “Mmm.” “Could you help them?” The lilac head pauses a moment, giving Ocean hope, but Kimono only scribbles in her notebook and resumes. “Not now, Chibi. I’m busy. We’ll tell tales later, OK?” “But—” Kimono finally raises her head, green eyes suddenly blazing. “Not now!” she says, sharply. “But—” “Only good little ponies get bed-time tales,” she threatens. “But they’re stuck!” Ocean pouts. Kimono pauses and looks thoughtful. “Good.” Ocean just looks at her, astonished. “That means you can help them.” “Me? What can I do?” “Do what you do best.” “Tell them fairy tales?” “In a manner of speaking.” “But—“ Kimono holds up her hoof for quiet — a gesture brooking no further discussion. Ocean backs away, looking flummoxed. ‘But what am I going to tell that big, scary Mister?’ she finishes, inside her head. Crafty Crate frowns when he sees Ocean return alone. “I have another idea!” Ocean Mist says, forcing enthusiasm to mask her uncertainty. Crafty Crate’s ears perk up hopefully, while Derpy looks at the filly encouragingly. “Um.” Ocean Mist thinks hard about fairy tales, a subject upon which she was something of an expert. ‘But there aren’t any fairy tales about wagons getting stuck?’ Crafty Crate’s expression tightens as the filly furrows her brow. Derpy, in no hurry to return, stifles a giggle. “Err…” ‘Something similar? Like a tale about a big flying thing?’ “Can you fly it up?” Crafty Crate grinds his teeth. “No, Miss. Back home, maybe. Not here.” Derpy gives him a discrete nudge with her flank. With a sigh, he masters himself. “Thanks for the suggestion, though.” Derpy nods. Ocean’s mind flits through the many tales she had read over the moons. “I’ve got it!” Crafty gives her a weary glance. “Jack and the Beanstalk!” Derpy giggles — stifling herself with her wing feathers. The stallion clenches his hoof. “Miss, thank you for the suggestion, but is there anypony older—?” The clang of the garden gate has already heralded the filly’s departure. “Sol’s teeth!” Crafty stomps in frustration. ‘Magic beans. Magic Beans! Where does Kimono keep her magic beans?’ Fully committed to her new plan, Ocean Mist rummages through the pantry. She considers, and rejects, various cans: ‘Marez Beans,’ due to the sauce; Garden Peas, for not being beans, despite looking like them; Kidney Beans, because she doesn't like casseroles. That is when she sees it, labelled in Kimono’s immaculate cursive. ‘RARE BEANS’ But it is on a high shelf. Casting about, she soon solves the problem. She places a chair and then an occasional table in the pantry and then hops up. Wobbling at the top of the improvised ladder, she claims her prize: the box of beans. Taking it through to the kitchen to inspect, she gazes on what she is sure must be a magical bean store. But, to her consternation, the ‘rare’ beans peer back at her with every appearance of being ordinary. Only the labels are exotic: ‘Borlotti’, ‘Soldier’, ‘Stallard’. A dubious sniff only confirms her suspicions. Nothing so plain could possibly be magical. She paces despondently about the kitchen, every so often peeking out of the window to see if the stranded strangers are all right. 'If I was lost in a strange land, I would definitely need my colouring book! Or I'd be in pieces.' But she didn’t want to be complacent about their apparent stoicism. Until she located the magic beans, they were her guests. ‘What if they are secretly sad. I really should make them tea.’ ‘Or, maybe they’re like Kimono. And she likes… coffee.’ Thinking of the nice-smelling but foul-tasting imported beverage triggers a niggling thought. “It’s made with beans!” she shouts out loud. A snorted chuckle comes from the living room. ‘And just like in the tale, they come from far away. And—’ Ocean clicks her hoof off the kitchen tiles to emphasise the clinching argument. ‘Kimono always says that coffee performs wonders!' Not knowing how much to take, Ocean Mist grabs the entire pot of coffee from the counter and races back to the wagon. Meanwhile, Derpy and Crafty have been discussing the situation. “Their Ponyville is just down the road, boss. Somepony there—” “Can’t leave the wagon.” “Why not?” “Insurance.” “Naw, boss. How could they find out?” “Tech.” “What tech?” “From the new place. Geodimension Five. The one with all the ruddy square ‘phones’ that look like foals’ toys.” “They can tell where we are?” “Yup. Amarezon deliveries insist. For tracking.” “But can’t we just explain?” “Hah!” “But—” “You ever dealt with ‘em, Derps?” “No—” “Exactly.” “Well, we can’t just stay here.” “No.” “So…?” Crafty sighs and looks back towards the house, hoping for the filly’s return. After a while, a little self-consciously, he takes a munch of the grass. “Not bad, is it?” They both graze in quiet. Crafty Crate’s ears perk up as Ocean Mist returns. Spitting out a mouthful of sod, he hails the filly, determined to get her to listen. “Miss!” “I found them!” “What?” “The beans!” “She means from Jack and the Beanstalk,” says Derpy, her mouth full. “Oh?” “Yes. So, now I just plant them—” “Wait—” “—and then they will grow—” “Miss.” “—into a beanstalk—” “Miss!” “—and move your wagon!” “MISS!” “Oh, sorry. Did you want some tea?” “NO!” Ocean Mist, shocked at the outburst, falls into wordlessness. “Boss…” “No, thank you. I’m sorry.” Ocean Mist’s lip trembles. “Boss…” With a sigh, Crafty Crate goes in for a hug. “All better?” he asks, deadpan. Ocean Mist nods. “Now—" “Oh, just let her do her thing.” Crafty Crate sucks his teeth and looks about to argue before giving in, with a sigh. “What’s this about a beanstalk?” Ocean Mist explains that Kimono’s magic beans would need to be placed under the wagon. Like a normal bean-plant, they would then grow from the soil but, as these were magic, the resulting stalk would be large enough to move the wagon. Crafty Crate and Derpy play along. With the inert beans in the soil, Ocean Mist informs the Equestrians that now they have to go to sleep and, in the morning, there will be a magical beanstalk. “But do not climb up it. There are giants at the top,” she says, finishing. “Miss.” “Yes, Mister?” “We really need to get back to our home. Is there anypony in town, or in there—” He points to the house. “Who could help us?” Ocean Mist's ears droop, disheartened, and her face reddens with embarrassment as she realises that she hasn’t been as helpful as she thought. But she wouldn’t give up! ‘Do what you do best,’ Kimono had said. “Of course somepony can help!" Crafty looks relieved. "It’s the spring promenade and the breezies are here! If anypony can help this grow, it’ll be them.” “Grow? Wait—!” But, once again, the filly has already left. They see the pink swirls of the pony’s mark flash in the afternoon sun as she gallops away towards the soft, salmon-tiled roofs of Ponyville, just visible in the distance. Ocean Mist races towards the Ponyville gardens, hoping to spot one of the small bug-ponies that annually visit. It is the time of Spring Promenade and the gardens are especially lush. Ocean’s nose is greeted by spicy-sweet notes of lilies, fresh and sharp scents of rocket and mint, and the tangy smell of orange blossoms. Colourful shapes flit around the gardens. The air hums with pollen and laughter. She soon alights upon one of the forest-folk — their leader, in fact. When she rushes up to the breezie Queen another, stunningly beautiful, breezie, whom she doesn’t recognise, flutters over. “Careful!” Ocean Mist stops. With a gesture of her azure antennae, the beauty motions to the ground where, not far from Ocean’s hooves, a bee buzzes pathetically. The bright white body of the breezie Queen then alights on Ocean Mist’s nose, waving her green antennae, wildly. “Shoo! Shoo! Oh!” she says, before falling off. The Queen flutters about, repeating the exclamation, zipping to-and-fro with every little shout. “Your majesty, please. The bee is poorly and needs our help,” the unknown beauty says, serenely. “How can you be so calm? calm!? calm!? Day Lilly!?” The Queen flutters back to the bee. “Look at her! Those ruffians! Why don’t they pick on a pony their own size!?” “Um—” “No, not you! You aren’t even half the size of that brute. So big, it was. And hairy.” Ocean Mist furrows her brow. Could they be talking about the Equestrians? “Please calm down, your Majesty.” Day Lilly flies silkily towards the Queen and, capturing a tiny white hoof, draws her back to the suffering bee. “I’m sorry about your bee,” Ocean Mist says, politely. “But can you help me. I have a bean—" “Another casualty of our foes! The aliens are no lovers of my subjects—” “She said ‘bean’, your Majesty.” “Oh. Well, I don’t know if they like beans. What sort of question is that!?” Pulling away from Day Lilly, the Queen flutters up to Ocean Mist’s face. “That’s a very, very silly question, you know! Beatrice isn’t a bean! She’s a bee. My bee. And she’s poorly.” Day Lilly sighs. “Please don’t distract the Queen. She is very upset about Bea. We can’t help you with your bean just now. But Zipzee, Tra-la-la and Tiddly Wink might be able to help?” “Oh, Bea! Oh, my precious! Oh! Oh! Oh!” After being pointed in their direction, Ocean Mist tracks down Breezie Blossom’s foremost gardening trio. “Achoo!” exclaims a tulip. “Achoo!” “Bless… you?” Ocean examines it, curiously. “I think she sneezed herself into one of the cumfreys over there!” calls out a voice from above. “Near the pony.” The voice pauses. “Oh, Hello Misty! Have you seen Zipzee?” “Hey there, Tiddly Wink. I think…” She points to the tulip. Another, light pink, breezie alights on the tulip and, with effort, opens its petals. Inside it, lies a prone pony, similar to Tiddly Wink except yellow with pink antennae, who is rubbing her nose. Ocean knew that Zipzee's condition was due to her hay fever, which always played up at this time of year. “That was a big one, Tra-la-la,” she says to her friend, her voice snuffly. On seeing Ocean Mist, her antennae rise happily. “Hey! Have you come to talk to the flowers again? They were a little scared of ‘the Beauty and the Beast’ but ‘the Jungle Book’ had them putting out new leaves!” she says, between sneezes. “Actually, I came to find you.” “Me? I’m always up for a story. As long as it’s about plants—” “—and they don’t lose their petals, like in ‘Beauty and the Beast’,” adds Tra-la-la. “Yup,” Tiddly Wink affirms. “Achoo!” Unable to speak, Zipzee just nods. “Actually, I need a special favour.” The trio's antennae circumduct curiously as Ocean explains about Jack and the Beanstalk, pausing every so often as Zipzee sneezes. “So, I have a very special bean that I need to grow.” “What type?” “Coffee.” “What?” asks Tra-la-la, confused. Zipzee turns to her. “It’s the one Wysteria asked me about last moon.” “That Kimono asked for?” Tiddly Wink asks. “Yep.” “But it’s an alien plant. We can’t grow it here, can we?” Tra-la-la and Tiddly wink shake their heads. Zipzee purses her little lips. “It won’t be easy…” The other breezies sigh. “Sorry, Ocean—" “But!” Seeing their cue, Tra-la-la and Tiddly Wink join hands with Zipzee, and they spin together, fluttering towards Ocean. “Maybe together?” they say, as one. Ocean gives a little skip of delight. “I knew you could do it!” They land on her back and cling on. “I promise I’ll tell you the whole story of ‘Black Beauty’! And I’ll give you a pony ride too!” “It’s enough to know we're helping a friend in need,” says Tra-la-la, gently. Zipzee and Tiddly Wink both ‘aw’ at the sentiment. Back at the wagon, Derpy has just returned from a dip in the lake and is rolling in the dry dust of the path to complete her ‘bath’. Crafty is a little way away, peering through the garden gate towards the house. “Hey!” he barks. Derpy continues to wiggle herself, hooves to the sky. “HEY!” Derpy rolls onto her side, but instead of getting up, she plays dead. “C’mere, will ya!” With a sigh, the grey mare rises to her hooves and shakes, before coming over. “What is it, boss?” “I think there’s somepony in that house.” “But the kid left?” Crafty facehoofs. “Somepony else, genius.” “Oh.” “Yeah. The kid’s name is Ocean Mist. Our delivery was—” “Wait. You knew the whole time it wasn't her place?” “Well. Yeah. We swapped details, remember.” Crafty turns away and bucks with annoyance. “You could have told me!” “Why?” “Because, featherbrain, the other pony might be able to help us.” “Oh. Right, yeah.” Derpy scratches away a stray piece of dirt behind her ear with a hind-hoof. “So?” “Look, boss. Can I finish?” “I’ll finish you if you don’t start helping.” “You’ll bathe me?” Crafty buries his face in his hooves. “Sol, help me. Go and ask for help. But be right back!” Derpy trots languidly up to the marble arched doorway to Kimono’s house. She smiles at the brass, woodpecker door knocker. “That’s nice,” she idly observes, as she taps. But nopony appears. Fancying that nopony is in, she decides to imitate a woodpecker — rapidly tapping. After a shriek of annoyance from within the house, the door is flung open. “NO PLAY TODAY. GO. AWAY—” Kimono’s eyes widen as she realises that it is not one of the Ponyvillians, but an Equestrian. Her manner shifts. “Oh, my. I am so sorry!” Derpy smiles, apologetically. “No problem, Miss.” “Please, call me Kimono.” “Derpy.” “Fascinating! You’d never hear one of us called that! What is its etymology? If you don’t mind. I’m something of an onomast-er. Hah.” “Um?” “Oh, sorry. It’s just I seldom get to talk to anypony of your kind!” Derpy pouts, thinking that she must be referring to her lazy eye. “One who isn’t a researcher, I mean.” “Oh.” “Would you like to—” Kimono hesitates. “Oh, no, what am I thinking? Of course you wouldn’t.” “Wouldn’t I what?” Derpy was becoming increasingly confused. This pony was nothing like any of the others. “Participate in a small experiment?” “Um?” “Don’t worry. I have the forms. It’s all above board. Your participation is worth— hmm, what did the funding coordinator say? Ah! Yes — 5 bits.” Derpy slowly nods her head. “Excellent!” Derpy is ushered into the living room, and it is explained that the research will be a short series of questions on politics, religion & reproduction. The elegant grandfather clock tells Derpy that ten minutes have already passed. “So! Politics first. I have been reading a fascinating book by Equestrian author, and economic genius, Karl Marex, with whom I am sure you will be far more familiar than I. And I would like to know whether, as a member of the pony proletariat, you feel oppressed?” “Um… you mean by Crafty?” “Is that the pony who exploits your labour?” Derpy thinks about her interrupted dust bath. “Yes, and yes.” Kimono nods solicitously. “Capitalism can be most unfair.” “He’s going to fire me, I think.” “Are you part of a union?” “Oh, um, no.” “Interesting. No doubt that is false consciousness." Kimono takes a few notes, before continuing. "Now, do you believe in a higher power?” Derpy thinks. “Well, Princess Celestia moved the sun.” “Atavistic sun worship, of course.” Kimono nods. “And Princess Luna moved the moon.” “Yes, related to the harvest, I am sure." She scribbles a note in the margin, before flipping the page of the notebook. Looking up with quill poised, she leans forward, a glint in her eye. "So, besides the sun and moon, is there anything more… abstract, that you believe in?” “Well, um, Princess Twilight Sparkle makes sure everypony is friends.” “A bacchanalian divinity, I wonder?” she muses to herself, poking her tongue out as she scribbles. Derpy looks anxiously to the clock. Kimono replaces the quill in the ink bottle. "What I am about to ask you is top-secret. You must not disclose this conversation to anypony. Especially anyone connected with the Unicornia-Canterlot Research society, nor to Moondancer. Do you consent?" Derpy nods, utterly bewildered. Kimono grins, her eyes hooded, looking slightly maniacal. She pulls her leather chair round next to Derpy. “Right! Now, what's all this about ‘the birds and the bees’?” she asks, her voice a whisper. “Oh, I love birds!” Kimono shakes her head. “I am talking about—” She leans in even closer. “Making foals.” “Oh!” Derpy blushes. “What do you want to know about that?” “Well. How does it happen? The books are all redacted.” “Um. Well. When you love a pony very much.” “Any pony?” “Well. If you’re a mare, then you need a stallion.” “Ah. Yes, of course. The big, hairy ones.” “Well, yes. And when you love a stallion very much, and he loves you very much, then you make a foal.” “And does it appear instantly?” “No. It’s like a seed.” “Is it planted?” “N-no. It goes inside your belly.” “You eat it?” “No.” “Fascinating! And, when it grows, what happens?” “Your belly grows very large, until one day it comes out.” Kimono's quill is a blur. “Comes out? Where?” Derpy blushes, furiously. “Well, you know where you wee-wee from?” “Oh, yes. You don’t mean—” “Yes.” “I don’t like the sound of that at all.” “But then, how do you…?” “I’m afraid that’s classified.” Derpy glances at the clock. What had she been sent here for, again? Kimono finishes scribbling, at length, and ushers Derpy out, reminding her of the need for confidentiality and thanking her profusely, before closing the door. On seeing the stuck wagon in front of her, she facehoofs. Derpy returns to Crafty, head low and ears flat, to explain what happened, expecting a tirade. But Crafty doesn’t chew her out. “As soon as we get back, you are fired,” he says simply, instead. Remembering Kimono's earlier questions, Derpy fires back. “I’ll join a union.” “You need a job for that. And you’re free-lance anyway.” Derpy sighs and trots back to the spot to finish her dust-bath, but not before a parting shot. “I’m a member of the ‘rolletariat and that’s oppression!” Crafty Crate chuckles. “Viva la revolution.” As Ocean Mist gallops towards Kimono’s house, she and her passengers sight the wagon and the two Equestrians. The three breezies look at each other, nervously. Tra-la-la is the first to dismount, with the others immediately following. Ocean Mist continues a while, before skidding to a halt and returning to see what the matter is. “Aliens!” they say, pointing. Ocean explains that those are the ponies who need the bean to grow. “What an… honour! To be the first breezies to help them.” Tra-la-la says, looking to the others for support. “Oh, yes,” they reply. “Achoo.” Zipzee’s sneeze sounds different. “I would love to help, but… it’s my allergies. I don’t deserve the honour of meeting them at all.” She takes a deep breath. “Achoo. So, I think that Tra-la-la, as the prettiest…” “Oh!” The aforementioned gives Zipzee a tight smile. “Thank you! I would love to meet them!” The others sigh with relief. “But I am just so small.” The little pale bug-pony flutters next to Tiddly Wink. “Their first meeting should be with you, Tiddles, as you’re the sweetest.” She flicks her tail at her friend. Tiddlywink rubs her pink antennae through her tiny purple hooves — her thinking pose. “Oh, yes! Thank you, Tra-la-la but, you see, I fluster so easily. Not like Zipzee. And she knows the most about flowers!” “Achoo. You’re pretty!” “I’m small. You’re sweet!” “I’m flustery. You know plants!” The three breezies flutter about, alternately complimenting and deprecating. Suddenly, they all stop and, alighting on a sunflower, they hold hooves and link antennae. “Then it’s settled! You decide!” They all point to Ocean Mist. Each breezie sits on a different plant as they put their cases to Ocean Mist: Zipzee on an azalea; Tiddly Wink on a magnolia; Tra-la-la on a saxifrage. After each has been heard, she decides that, while each breezie has an excellent case, Zipzee is the best with flowers. “Aww. I really wanted to meet the aliens.” The losing parties pout. “Oh, well if you really want to...” Zipzee says, looking at them hopefully. But they shake their little heads. “You won. Fair and square.” Tiddly Wink flits over and places a dandelion crown on her friend’s head and they wave Zipzee off. “Ooh!” Derpy’s eyes light up as she spies the tiny yellow bug-pony atop Ocean. Crafty, however, grimaces. He had been hoping for burly earth ponies. Once Ocean comes to a halt, Zipzee nervously hides in Ocean’s pink mane. Unfortunately, the ticklish hairs prove to be too much for her. “Achoo!” The force of the sneeze causes her to shoot into the air. “Oh!” Derpy gallops forward, eager to pet the little, fairy-like pony. The disturbance caused by the pegasus’ rampant approach, however, creates difficulties. “Aah! Ooh! Eee!” Zipzee cries, as she is buffeted, almost careering into the wagon. Seeing this, Derpy stops and holds out a hoof. “It’s OK, little one,” she coos. In the calm, Zipzee cautiously alights on Derpy's hoof, noting its coarseness in comparison with her previous perch. “Hello, aliens,” Zipzee announces. “It can talk! Aw.” “Of course I can talk!” Zipzee puts her hooves on her hips. Derpy giggles. “Whoa, you’re big.” Zipzee gestures towards Crafty. “Maybe stand back, boss. I think it’s scared.” “I am not scared.” “No, you are very brave,” Ocean says, encouragingly. “You are so cute!” “Am not! I’m Zipzee.” “Yes, you are!” Derpy delicately boops the tiny pony’s nose. “Hey!” “Who’s a cute little bug-pony? You are! Yes, you are!” Zipzee stomps her little hoof and glares up at Derpy. “Please can you put her down. I need her help,” Ocean says, prodding the Equestrian’s side to get her attention. Reluctantly, Derpy complies. Zipzee looks uncertainly at the beans under the wagon. From high up in a nearby willow bordering Kimono’s water garden, Tra-la-la and Tiddly Wink whistle their encouragement. With a deep breath, and a smile to her supporters, Zipzee inspects the area. “Good hole.” She pats the ground. “Nice and moist.” Crafty tuts. That had caused the problem in the first place. She leans down and puts her head to one of the beans, its size comparable to her little crown, and gives it a lick. “It is, in my opinion, quite an icky bean.” Ocean nods, vigorously. While coffee smelled nice, the beans tasted awful. Zipzee sits next to the beans and crosses her legs, meditating. Closing her eyes, she feels the beans with her pink antennae. Derpy crouches low, extending her muzzle under the wagon to see, while being careful not to get too close. The group wait awhile, in silence. “I think it will grow in this climate,” Zipzee says, finally. “And can you make it grow now?” Ocean asks. “Yes, I think so. But I will need your help.” Derpy and Ocean nod. Crafty broods. “Do you know the song ‘Ring Around the Rosie'?" Zipzee explains that, just like for baby foals, singing can wake plants up. They practice for a while, with Zipzee leading, flapping her wings and swooping to the beat. Derpy, while full of enthusiasm, struggles with the words. “Bring a ring of mosey! A locket full and cosey! A tissue! A tissue! We all fall down!” Giggles sound from the nearby trees. Zipzee, feeling less threatened by the aliens thanks to these silly antics, senses that now her friends may similarly be ready to join in and help. “Tra-la-la! Tiddly Wink!” She waves over the other breezies, who flit across. On seeing them, Derpy coos delightedly and, more gently this time, extends a greeting. The pink and purple pair soon overcome their shyness. In short order the entire company is singing, and a rhythmic chorus is established. Even Crafty is persuaded to join, adding his deep bass to the breezies' soprano and Ocean's fillyish alto. With the first part of the ritual set up, Zipzee returns to the beans for the second. Cradling them like larvae, she sings another, secret, song. The magic of the land manifests in sparkles which then fall, pollen-like, about the inert coffee beans. Placing them gently back in the ground, she smiles maternally as they begin to shift, bulge, and finally sprout. The singing stops as everypony marvels. “Welcome to the world, little beans!” she greets them. Ocean Mist's joy is short lived, however, as the plant fails to shift the wagon, its leaves barely brushing the undercarriage. “Zipzee? When will it grow up into the sky?” Zipzee turns round, confused. “The sky?” “Yes. It's a bit... poky.” Zipzee gasps and clutches her little yellow hooves around the central stem of the coffee plant, protectively. “Cofsi is a very healthy height! When are you going to grow up into the sky?” she challenges, defensive of the new life that she has helped to bring forth. Tra-la-la and Tiddly Wink look dismayed. “Sorry, she gets this way about plants,” she explains to the Equestrians. “But that was the whole idea!” Ocean says, standing her ground. “I thought you wanted to grow a coffee plant under a wagon!” “Why would I want to do that?” The two other breezies nod — it was a good question. “Well, OK. Maybe I should have asked why you wanted to do that, or maybe you could have told me.” “I did! I said, ‘just like in Jack and the Beanstalk’.” “Um?” “I read it to you only a couple of moons ago!” “Yes, but I was very sneezy that day.” “She’s a sneezy breezie,” her friends explain. “Um, is something wrong?” Derpy asks, charmed by the episode, but also confused. Ocean shamefacedly explains that she thought the coffee beans were magical, like in Jack and the Beanstalk. Derpy, already risible, begins to chuckle in earnest. “Right,” Crafty says and reaches for the plant, wanting to clear it away from the wheels. “Hey!” He pauses. “What do you think you are doing? Cofsi is tired. She needs rest!” “If it stays there, it’ll get crushed anyway. Might as well get rid.” The three breezies flutter together in shock. To them, the plant was as much a living thing as they were — talk of plant-destruction was taboo in Breezie Blossom. Ocean Mist springs into action to prevent a full crying fit. She recites a breezie rhyme. “Bees, butterflies, tulips and bulbs!” “The lovely little things in the world!” Tiddly Wink and Tra-la-la, forgetting their upset, join in. “Dragon-flies, frogs, oysters, and pearls! Zipzee sniffles and casts an occasional angry glance towards the ‘Mister’. “Go on, Zipzee.” “Robins, tits, fireflies and whorls.” “I love all of the world's smalls!” Ocean Mist claps. Derpy joins in with a stomp. “Well done! You didn’t cry!” Ocean says, smiling kindly down at the little yellow breezie. Her friends hug her. “All better?” She nods. Ocean turns to the big ‘Mister’. Summoning her courage, she looks him square in the eyes. “We don’t use words like that about living things here.” “Sorry,” he says, sullenly. “Do you accept his apology?” Tra-la-la and Tiddly Wink turn to Zipzee, who eventually agrees. Then, as one, they flutter up to give him a delicate hug. Even holding hooves, they can't quite get round his broad shoulders. “Since Cofsi is not going to become a beanstalk, but a coffee plant, please could you three take her to where she will have a healthy home,” Ocean Mist says to them. After saying their goodbyes, and delicately uprooting ‘Cofsi’ with plenty of soil, the breezies fly the plant to a more suitable locale.