Roger was home a little later than usual tonight. It was well after dark when I finally heard the front door. I was actually contemplating going over to Twilight’s to see if Spike could send a letter to the princess to check that he was alright. After all, while his job was quite varied at times, it was a rare thing that it kept him in the office so late.
“I’m back!” he called out as he came in. A moment later, I heard the front door close and latch behind him. Quietly, I breathed a sigh of relief.
“You’re home late,” I replied. “Busy day?” I was curious to know just what had kept him up in Canterlot. It’s a little ritual of ours I suppose. We see each other after work and our first question is usually something along the lines of ‘how was your day with the adorable technicolour ponies, dear?’
“Sort of. One of the prisoners in Tartarus raised hell. Me and Discord had to fetch Celestia to help us break it up. I tell you, it’s like custody cells on a Friday night down there sometimes.”
Tartarus? What the hell was he doing down there? He wasn’t supposed to have to go back down there more than once a month. From what he said, it sounded like there had been some sort of fight down there. And I don’t care what he says, that place is nothing like the local cells. I quickly got up from my seat on the sofa, and hurried out into the hallway. Roger was just hanging up his coat when I got there.
“What was it? What happened?” I asked, deeply worried.
As I’ve said before, I’m not exactly happy with my husband having to go down to that hellhole as it is. Hearing that he’d been put in harms’ way just concerned me even more. I’d been toying with the idea of going to see the princess myself, to see if there was anypony else this duty could fall on. As Machiavellian as it sounds, I was hoping I could use whatever had happened as a way to convince her that it wasn’t safe for him.
Hurrying into the hallway, I quickly ran over and hugged him tightly. I do worry about him after all. I felt his hand run through my hair in an effort to calm me down.
“Just a couple of them taking swings at each other. We just needed Celestia to help reverse a few magical effects,” he reassured me. Still, it had shaken me up.
“You know I worry about you going in there,” I replied. While I didn’t want to start a fight with him again, I wanted to make my position plain. He pulled me into a hug again.
“Oh come on, it’s no worse than back on Earth. And none of those fruitcakes are gypsy glue boilers that cut their brother’s head off when they get in a fight over a football.”
I shuddered, that was true. It had been one of his earliest cases and, as far as I know, the only case he ever passed off to someone else. These two tinkers lived on the outskirts of Cannock, working as horse slaughters. Because you couldn’t legally bury horses, they had to be disposed of by professionals. Or at least, people who had a card that said they were. My old grandmother used to warn me about tinkers when I was young; they had a little camp set up not too far from our house, and were infamous for stealing anything that wasn’t nailed down.
Anyway, these not too nice people made a living from turning dearly departed nags into glue, though I believe they were later done for selling the meat wholesale as beef too. One day, the pair, for whatever reason, got into a fight over a football one of them found. And, because of that, one of the pair, brother in fact, grabbed a meat cleaver, and cut the other one’s head off in one fell swoop. He got caught when a bobby pulled him over with a decapitated corpse in the boot. That got him arrested.
He never once showed a hint of remorse about the whole thing, and even threatened Roger after the case went south. Though I don’t know what he expected to happen; the silly twat admitted that he did it in open court.
After Roger advised against appealing the case, he got even more dangerous, threatening me and our son (this was before Lizzie was born). So, he told both him and the judge that he was no longer able, or willing, to represent him, and that was that.
As evil as all the creatures down there are, I don’t think any of them have actually ever killed anypony. But I digress.
“Still doesn’t mean I have to like it,” I countered as I turned around and headed for the kitchen. I’d kept dinner waiting, since he was back so late. Annoyingly, Equestria doesn’t have microwaves, so I had to leave his dinner stewing in the pot on a slow heat. As he followed me, he did his best to turn the conversation toward a more neutral subject.
“So how was your day, anyway?” he asked curiously. I shrugged my shoulders.
Let’s see now…
I sat in the comparatively empty classroom. Cheerilee was next door running a history lesson, whilst Twilight had taken some of the unicorn foals up to her castle to let them study in her library. I meanwhile was stuck with one not-so-bright student.
He wasn’t even a foal, but a full grown stallion. And believe it or not he was sixth, just after Shining Armor, in the line of succession. The stallion that sat before me, jammed into the too small desk was Prince Blueblood.
For want of a better expression, Blueblood is not very bright. That’s what generations of inbreeding gets you though, I suppose. And due to his infamously stuck up personality, every possible tutor in Canterlot had given up on him. Well, I was never one to take a view that anyone is ‘unteachable’, so when Roger told me about it, I offered Princess Celestia my assistance.
The alicorn readily agreed to my proposal. And since Blueblood has something of a liking for Ponyville’s day spa, it was decided that I could have a lesson with him when he came down for his appointment.
My son had also warned me about the many risks of being in proximity to Blueblood, as did Spike, Rarity, and a good dozen or so other mares in town. While he is apparently quite handsome, he has all the qualities of a Jack Russell terrier when it comes to personality. If Shining Armor is Elliot Ness on four hooves, then Blueblood is something along the lines of Pol Pot.
As a first lesson, I had simply made an effort to get to know him, and understand why he acted the way he did. I asked him what he wanted to learn, and he’d come up with an answer pretty sharpish.
Hence how I was in my current, ludicrous situation.
I was sitting across from Blueblood. On the table in front of us were a few plastic toy cows. Off to our left was an open window. I did my best to repress a sigh as I tried again.
“Right, your highness,” I said, picking up the plastic cows. He insisted that I call him by his title. “Let’s try it one more time. These are small. But the ones out there are far away.”
Blueblood tilted his head curiously. To his credit, I could actually see the cogs vainly turning in his head trying to understand. I held up the small toy and repeated it for emphasis.
“So, small…far away.” I pointed out at what seemed to be equally small living cows, grazing outside the school. Still, the rabbit in his head working the controls was befuddled.
I spent the next four hours at that. And even at the end, he still hadn’t quite got it. But, that is what being a teacher is about sometimes.
“Oh, you know; same old, same old,” I replied. “They’re certainly a lot better behaved that those buggers back at St. Michael’s!”
That was true, not even Blueblood, who was a little taller than average, was taller than me. Back on Earth, I’d had to look up at some of the Year 6’s, and it didn’t help that a few of them come from the rougher estates. Even the larger colts in my class weren’t that intimidating. Foals like Diamond Tiara were even adorable in a certain way when they got frustrated.
The two of us sat down to dinner. With the kids gone, the house is a lot quieter, but it also means less food shopping, and I don’t have to cook large meals. Tonight, I’d gone for something simple; cheesy beef cobbler with sticky toffee pudding for afters.
We were just about to make a start on dessert when I heard the doorbell ring. Roger got up from his seat, dabbing his mouth briefly with a napkin; he’d gotten quite a bit of sauce around his mouth.
“I’ll get it.” He announced, and went down the hall.
I heard the front door open, and him talking to someone. I prayed that it wasn’t Discord. My husband’s best friend, and Equestria’s least trustworthy ally has a tendency for turning up out of the blue and sleeping on my sofa. And that doesn’t even begin to cover all the stuff he does in the house.
But it wasn’t Discord. A few moments later I heard the door close again, and Roger returned, a slightly surprised look on his face. I poured us both a cup of coffee from the nearby pot.
“Who was that then, dear?” I asked, pouring him a cup as well. In response, he held up two golden coloured tickets.
“Spike,” he replied. “He was delivering these; came through his fire breath.”
Spike has an odd ability with his fire breath; apparently, anything burned by it gets sent straight to Princess Celestia. He can also receive important messages from her too. Twilight used to use that to send her friendship reports. Roger set the two tickets on the table.
It took me a while, but I can now read Equestrian as well as I can English. The tickets were gold, and covered in stylish motifs. In the centre was the legend ‘Admit One – Grand Galloping Gala’. I looked up at Roger, who was grinning like nobody’s business.
“We’ve been invited to the gala!” He declared proudly.
About twenty minutes later, I’d finally calmed down. I may or may not have started screaming in excitement…or due to shock. The Grand Galloping Gala was the biggest society event of the year, aside from those once in a blue moon things like royal weddings and births. Invitations to such an event were the sort of things ponies would go at each other with sharpened sticks if it came to it. If you could get into the gala and get yourself known, you were pretty much in with the Canterlot elite.
As exciting as it was though, I was hardly prepared for it. I’m not exactly what you call a high society type for one thing, I’m more of a lower middle class, and so is Roger. And while he may have moved in a few higher political circles, I had no such experience. My mind began reeling about all the subtle rules and protocol I knew nothing about.
Eventually though, with some support from my husband, I managed to calm down and settle on one pressing issue; a dress.
I could hardly turn up to the gala in my usual clothes now could I? For goodness sake, the food served at the gala would make any three Michelin star restaurant quiver in their boots. So I needed to have something special made up. I had been planning to splash out before long as it was. It had been an age since I went clothes shopping.
And there was only one pony in Ponyville I could possibly pay call on to have something suitable made in time, wasn’t there? Rarity, fashionista, gifted seamstress, and owner and proprietor of Carousel Boutique, was perhaps the only pony outside of Canterlot I could trust to give me a dazzling design. When we first arrived here, she had kindly made me a few sets of clothes, since I can’t exactly buy of the peg here in Equestria. I occasionally place a few orders with her, but this would be pushing the boat out a bit.
Roger too decided that he needed some new threads. He’s got some good work suits, but the dress code at the gala for gents is more of a black tie job. So he decided that he’d head up to Canterlot tomorrow to see Elusive, his tailor up there. Rarity after all, specialises in mares and mares fashion.
I headed out the next day for Carousel Boutique. It was lucky that the invitations came on Friday night, so I had a chance to go and get the dress sorted without delay. Rarity’s wedding cake style shop was just up the road from our house, and like Twilight’s castle, stood out amongst the other building nearby, with the exception of the joke shop, which I think is kept in business by the spending sprees of Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash.
In my handbag was a fairly large sack full of bits. This outfit would probably set me back a couple hundred. But, conversely, it would last for an age and be great for any other important formal occasion. Maybe I’ll wear it after Bones finally plucks up the courage and proposes?
Still, this was my first dress fitting in…well, let’s just say a long while. The last time I’d gone for anything like this, the dress had been white.
I soon came upon Rarity’s shop. Given it was quite warm today, the front door was open. Walking inside, I found the small shop floor bustling with customers, mainly Canterlot ponies; nobles and other upper class snobs. I spotted Rarity attending to a couple, a long, slender mare, with a fluer de lis cutie mark, and a rather well to do looking stallion with a small handlebar mustache. Rarity was amicably chatting with them, but when she spotted me standing at the door, she politely excused herself and trotted over.
“Margaret, darling,” the mare greeted in her affected Canterlot alto. “So wonderful to see you again. What brings you to my humble establishment?” I showed Rarity my gala ticket.
“Ah, so you’ve been invited as well. Splendid! I was just discussing the upcoming gala with Fancy Pants here.” I had to restrain myself from bursting out laughing. There’s a stallion with fond memories of his school days.
“I was hoping you might be able to make something for me, Rarity,” I replied. “Though you do look to be extraordinarily busy today.” The shop was teeming with customers. Rarity though, shook her head.
“Oh, no, no, no, nonsense, darling,” she countered. “I’d be happy to make something for you. And you always do give me a wonderful challenge. After all, who else can say they designed clothing for the only two humans in all of Equestria?” She began to lead me towards the back of the store.
“Come along then, dear. We can go upstairs to my work room and play with a few ideas I have.” I smiled and gestured for her to go on.
“Alright, lead the way, Rarity,” I said.
Rarity quickly led me upstairs, leaving her other customers to browse in the shop, assuring them that she would be back soon. Following her upstairs, she led me to her ‘inspiration room’ as she called it. In contrast to the rest of the boutique, which was clean to an almost fastidious degree, her inspiration room was an utter tip. Fabrics and half-finished designs were strewn everywhere, as were dozens of sketches and notations. It certainly surprised me, but hey, that’s artists for you.
She had me stand in front of a full body mirror, while she selected and began levitating various bits of fabric with her magic. These, rather unsettlingly, floated around me as if they were alive, occasionally settling on me here and there. Eventually, Rarity paused, her eyes wide and sparkling.
“Ah ha, idea!” she proclaimed happily. I turned to face her.
“So what have you got for me, Rarity?” I asked, wondering just what she’d cooked up. The alabaster unicorn was sitting at her desk, hurriedly sketching out the design.
“Oh, it’s inspired, darling. Even if I do say so myself,” she replied excitedly. “Here, take a look.” The sheet of paper, encased in a light blue glow, floated over to me. Taking it out of the air, I took a look.
The design she’d come up with was quite unique to say the least. You see, when you get to my age and have two kids, your figure isn’t exactly what it was when you were twenty five. I’m not fat by any means, in fact compared to the average I’m quite trim, but still, clothes don’t exactly hang off me.
So, what Rarity had come up was a loose fitting ensemble. Later on, when we got to the gala, I would notice that the princess had gone for something similar, though mine was mainly light and dark blues, whereas hers was more purples and mauve. Essentially, it was a long, flowing dress that had sleeves and went up over my shoulders. Along with that, it had a loose fitting shawl that draped over it. Add in a pair of heels and it was quite flattering; a credit to Rarity’s skill as a designer.
“Impressive, Rarity,” I praised. “When do you think you’ll have it ready?” The unicorn tittered for a moment.
“Oh, fret not, darling,” she reassured me. “I’ll be able to fix up this little number well before the gala. I just need to double check your measurements, and then I’ll set to work on it.”
“Great,” I replied. “So how much are we talking all in?” Rarity thought for a moment, putting a hoof to her chin.
“Hmm, I’d say one hundred and fifty bits in all.” I was surprised.
“Really, is that all?” I asked. An expensive gown like this, particularly when you considered the extra material she’d need seemed a little low.
“Friend’s discount,” Rarity replied. I opened my mouth to object, but she cut me off. “And before you start, I insist. This is a rare treat for you, I know, and I have no desire to drain your balance. Besides, I should soon be seeing quite the upsurge in profits when I open my new store.”
“New store?” I parroted. Rarity nodded.
“Yes, darling,” she replied. “Carousel Boutique is expanding its horizons. I’m planning to open up a store in Canterlot in a month or so.”
“Wow! You’re going to have quite the franchise going, Rarity,” I said. “So are you leaving us soon then?”
“Oh, no, no, no,” Rarity assured me. “I’d never leave Ponyville. No, I’m looking to recruit somepony to manage the new store in Canterlot, while I stay here in Ponyville. Although I may head up there from time to time to check on things.”
I knew Rarity had been doing well recently, but I didn’t think she’d got enough to open up a second store. Still, it was a good bit of news. Perhaps when it was completed, I could take Lizzie or a couple friends up to Canterlot for a little shopping spree?
“Well, I wish you luck up there, Rarity, in any case.” Rarity smiled.
“Thank you, darling. Now come along, let’s get those measurements. Then we can catch up over a nice cup of tea.”
Rarity was as good as her word, and a few days later my new outfit was completed. Again, Rarity stuck to her element of generosity and refused to let me buy the thing for full price. She also told me that she was finalising things with the estate agents up in Canterlot to open up her second store.
The night of the gala soon rolled around. I dug out a bit of jewellery for the occasion, a faux pearl necklace left to me by my mother. Initially, I was planning on taking the train up to Canterlot. However, it turned out my genius of a husband had planned ahead, and drafted in two of his guard friends from work to take us there by chariot.
So, at quarter past five in the evening, the two of us were waiting on the front lawn for them to appear. Our ride appeared fifteen minutes later, with Roger yelling up the pair as they descended.
“Good Lord!” he called up to the two pegasi. “And here was me thinking you two would be taking the night off tonight.” While I didn’t recognise them straight away (guards do all tend to look the same in their uniforms after all) I soon realised that the pair were Duck and Cover, two guards Roger had become good friends with.
“No such luck tonight!” Duck (I think) called back as we boarded.
“The princess is pulling out all the stops for the Gala. Security is pretty tight, so they needed a few extra hooves to help with transportation.” Cover added.
Well, it’s only a short trip to Canterlot,” I replied consolingly. “At least you won’t be stuck standing at attention all evening.” The pair laughed at that.
“Very true, Mrs. Owen,” Duck said. He then turned to his colleague “Right, let’s get going. On three okay?” And with that, we took off into the evening sky.
The journey to Canterlot Castle wasn’t too bad. Flying in an open chariot some thousand feet up can at times seem just a tad perilous. But with the darkness of the night obscuring the very long drop to the ground below, I found myself relaxing, and enjoying the smooth twenty minute flight.
The two guards landed perfectly, right in front of the main castle gates following the other ground bound carriages that were queuing up to the gates. The castle was positively glittering against the night sky; we hadn’t even had the fireworks and Wonderbolt display yet. As we came to a stop, Duck turned back to us.
“Alright, here we are,” he said. “Just follow the queue to the main doors. Enjoy your evening, and we’ll pick you up in a few hours to take you home.” I smiled.
“Thanks again, you two,” I replied pleasantly. “Hang around when you get us back and I’ll fetch you a little thank you for your troubles.” As soon as we were out, the pair headed skyward again to make room for the next in line. I turned to Roger.
“Right, come along, dear.” He said.
Taking me by the arm, the two of us worked our way along the path to the large main doors at the front of the castle. We soon found ourselves in a mid-sized queue that led up the steps. Evidently we’d arrived just as the big rush was starting. The ponies around us were dressed in attire similar to our own, with the stallions wearing expensive looking dinner jackets or collars, whilst the mares were resplendent in a menagerie of dresses, a few of which were undoubtedly of Rarity’s design. As we continued to work our way forwards, Roger spotted two ponies that he recognised.
“Bones! Applejack!” he called out. The two ponies ahead of us promptly turned around to see who it was. It was indeed my son and Applejack. The mare quickly trotted over to say hello, with Bones reluctantly following behind.
"Hey, Dad.” My son said in a resigned tone. To be fair, his dad does love to tease him in public settings.
Oddly, Bones had changed his style quite a bit for the gala. His outfit was an aqua blue suit jacket, with an off white shirt, along with a light orange bow tie. On their own, there was nothing unusual; the light colours after all contrasted well with his dark coat. No, the odd thing was his mane, which instead of being its usual dark blue, was now a bone white with hints of silver. Roger poked a bit of fun at his fashion choices, though he was in no position to throw stones. I was starting to wonder how he could breathe with that tight collar. Leaving the pair to their bickering, I turned to Applejack.
“I see you sprung for one of Rarity’s dresses too, Applejack.” I said. The orange farm pony nodded.
“Rarity was kind enough to do a little work fixin’ this up. She made it for me back when we all went to the Gala that first year.” It certainly was a sight. Unsurprisingly, the mare had gone for an apple theme for her dress. Rarity had somehow managed to combine both the formal nature of a gala dress with homey and more relaxed airs of life on Sweet Apple Acres. At least, that’s the best way I can sum it up.
It was at that point that the four of us reached the front door and the princess. Unusually, she too had dressed herself up for the occasion. Celestia is not one to be seen to indulge in passing fashions, or so Roger tells me. At previous iterations of the Gala, she would appear in just her typical crown, horseshoes, and regalia. Tonight though, she wore a rather impressive purple, violet, and lavender ensemble that hung loosely over her larger frame. It sort of reminded me of my own outfit.
“Applejack, Blade Star,” she greeted the two ponies before us. “Wonderful to see you again.”
“Likewise, your highness,” Bones replied, touching the brim of an invisible hat as a sign of respect. Celestia then turned her attention to the two of us.
“And my dear advisor. Welcome to the Grand Galloping Gala. Thank you for coming along too, Margaret.” The two of us bowed as protocol dictated.
“Thank you for inviting us, princess,” I replied kindly. Celestia smiled back. It’s amazing how, despite her position, she can make ponies feel at ease around her.
“With Applejack here, that makes all of Twilight’s friends accounted for. Although I’m starting to wonder where Discord has gotten to. I sent him an invitation this year as well. Anyway, I shall see you two inside.”
Discord was coming here? As I’ve said before, I’ve never exactly taken to my husband’s friend, nor he to me. I just hoped that he would cause too much of his signature chaos tonight.
We left the princess to continue greeting all her guests, something she insists on doing personally, I might add. Heading inside, we found ourselves in the large open ballroom. The place was filled with ponies, all mixing and mingling. As we came in a castle servant announced us both, which made me blush, much to Roger’s amusement.
The pair of us soon began mingling. While most of the guests were nobility, Royal Guard higher ups, and the odd foreign dignitary, there were a few faces I recognised. For one, Twilight and her friends were all here and had formed into their usual little group. Bones had briefly gone to talk to a griffon officer, apparently temporarily on loan to the Royal Guard as part of an exchange program.
I chatted with Twilight and her friends for a while. Fluttershy was here as well. Lizzie had, rather oddly, declined her offer to come to the gala with her, and instead offered to take care of the animals for the night. So instead, Fluttershy had brought another friend of hers with her; a mare called Treehugger. The mare was something of a hippy, and judging by her very blown out pupils, was high as bloody kite. Most questions got a stereotypical response, or a suggestion to ‘mellow out’. Still, I chatted with her and Fluttershy for a while.
“I’d have thought you and Discord would arriving together, Fluttershy,” I said as we listened to the band. “From what I hear you two are pretty good friends.” Fluttershy nodded.
“Well, I was going to, but I haven’t seen Treehugger in a long time, and I wanted to do something nice for her,” the butter yellow pegasus replied. “Besides, Discord should have his own ticket. I’m starting to wonder where he’s got to. I just hope I didn’t upset him too much earlier.”
“Come on, he’s a big boy, Fluttershy,” I reassured her. “I’m sure he’ll come around before long.” Just then Roger came over and asked if I wanted to talk with one of his friends from work. I politely excused myself and followed him across the room.
“Hello there, Steel.” He called out. Steel was a grey unicorn stallion with a silvery mane, and a pair of balanced scales for a cutie mark. He quickly turned around, smiling when he spotted us.
“Roger!” he replied, trotting over to us. “I heard that you’d been invited. And this must be Mrs. Owen.” He bowed slightly. “Charmed, I’m sure.” I shook his hoof.
"Wrought Steel here helped us put Trixie away for a year or two,” Roger explained. “He’s a damn fine prosecutor.” Steel smiled.
“Yes, one who currently takes orders from somepony who used to work for the dark side,” he replied. That got them both to laugh.
At that moment, the attendant at the door announced Discord’s arrival. The deeply unsettling draconequus had turned up in a bright orange suit, complete with top hat. And along with him was a being that was announced as ‘The Smooze’.
This ‘Smooze’ was a bit like Slimer from Ghostbusters; a large blog of green goo that seemed to move around under its own steam. Most ponies were just a tad put off by it, particularly my son, who went storming over to Princess Celestia and all but demanded that she get every single pegasi she could to Canterlot post haste.
Roger briefly went over to talk to him, but it was clear that something wasn’t quite right. Discord was evidently mad about something, and judging by the leering looks he was giving Fluttershy’s friend Treehugger, it had something to do with her.
Discord, despite his age and experience still has a pretty short fuse when it comes to his temper. As ‘reformed’ as he is, and I use that term very loosely, he can still be very dangerous. Evidently, Fluttershy picking Treehugger over him had ticked him off something awful, and he’d brought this Smooze thing along in an effort to show that Fluttershy wasn’t his only friend.
This wouldn’t have been so bad, had the Smooze not had an annoying habit of eating anything shiny. It was like some weird magpie. Even worse, it steadily seemed to grow larger in size as it ate. This soon led to it coating half the gala in gelatinous ooze. An ooze which was immune to the effects of magic, even the extremely powerful magic of the alicorns.
It was when Fluttershy called him out on his behaviour that he really lost his temper. Opening a rift to one of his pocket dimensions, he threatened to hurl Treehugger into a world filled with sentient sock puppets. Luckily, Fluttershy was able to talk him down from that. But between the amount of chaos magic being released, and the fact that the Smooze was now threatening half of the castle, the gala was pretty much done for.
The majority of the nobles and other important guests promptly ran for the hills, while those of us who stayed behind found ourselves heavily coated in thick green goo. Not an experience I’d care to repeat.
Still, Discord did eventually reign the Smooze in, and even apologised to it for using it as a way to get back at Fluttershy. He also apologised to Celestia and everypony else for ruining the gala. It was then that Celestia spoke up.
The gala, as a rule, is always pretty awful. Especially for Celestia, who has to sit through the whole night. So, she likes to make her own fun and spice things up a bit. It was for that reason that she invited Discord in the first place. And while she hadn’t expected things to go the way they did, she decided that she had personally had a great time, enjoying herself immensely. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen the alicorn princess let go in a way like that, before nor since. It certainly seemed to surprise Twilight to. Bones meanwhile simply chalked it up to something called ‘Trollestia’.
With the gala somewhat unofficially brought to a close, things began to break up, and ponies began to depart. Roger briefly left me to go and talk with one of the ponies that was playing in the orchestra. She lives in Ponyville, Octavia is her name, I think. I haven’t spoken with her that often. But If I remember correctly, she lives a few streets over from us with her roommate, some DJ pony or something. An odd combination if you ask me.
When he returned, we joined up with Twilight and her friends, including Bones and a very apologetic Discord. With little else to do for the next while, Twilight suggested that we all go to Donut Joes, a popular little establishment here in Canterlot, and ironically also the same place Twilight and the others had gone after the last Grand Galloping Gala. At least this time though, they at least weren’t the ones responsible for the mess.
A couple hours later, Roger and I arrived back in Ponyville. It was pretty late and we were both dog tired. While things hadn’t exactly gone the way I’d expected them to go, I’d still had a nice enough time. Not enough to convince me to do it all again, mind you.
Duck and Cover stayed for a half hour or so for a cup of tea each before heading back to Canterlot and their barracks. According to rumour, the last ponies who didn’t get back to the palace before sunrise were unceremoniously drummed out by Shining Armor for going AWOL. They were actually really nice guys and great company, so much so that I suggested to Roger that come Hearth’s Warming, we invite them round.
After that, the pair of us were more than ready for bed. After turning out the lights and putting the deadbolt on, we both headed upstairs to bed. I was struggling to keep my eyes open as I changed into my pyjamas. And by the time my head hit the pillow, I was almost completely asleep.