//------------------------------//
// Chapter 7: A Princess Becomes Infatuated  
// Story: S.B. 
// by Unwhole Hole 
//------------------------------//

	The sun had only started to rise when a knock came at the door. Matilda and Cranky looked at each other, both nervous about who exactly might be on the other side. It was something of a mystery who, exactly, was there, but both of them knew the exact reason why somepony had come. 
“I have to get that,” muttered Matilda. 
“No you don’t,” said Cranky. “I never do.”
Matilda sighed, but then walked gently toward the door. She opened it just as the violet alicorn on the other side was raising her hoof to knock.
“Princess!” cried Matilda, immensely surprised to see the Princess of Friendship standing at her door. Cranky was equally surprised, and stood up so sharply that he nearly fainted from the change in blood pressure. They both then bowed.	
“What are you doing?” asked Twilight. “Oh. I’m royalty. I forgot. Sorry. Um…at ease?” 
“If I had known you were coming, I would have…”
Matilda trailed off when she saw that Twilight was frowning. 
“You know why I’m here, right?” 
Matilda nodded. “You’re here about S.B. And what he did.”
“Yeah.” 
“But he didn’t mean it!” blurted Matilda, suddenly. “I know he looks different, but there’s no way he could have done that to poor Scootaloo, not on purpose! He isn’t that kind of pony!” 
“Well, he definitely DID do it. Cheerilee was there, and I talked to Scootaloo. Or at least tried to get her to talk. She’s just a little bit traumatized.”
“Trauma builds character,” muttered Cranky. 
“You know, the last Captain of the Guard in Canterlot before my brother used to say that same thing. And we both know what happened to him.”
“No we don’t. Went to Canterlot once, never wanted to again. All those unicorns, with their horns rubbing on my when I try to walk through a crowd. It’s just unnatural.”	
“What happened to him?” asked Matilda.
“Trauma,” shrugged Twilight. “Of the blunt-force type. He’s fine now, though.” She sighed. “But I’m not. You have no idea what a headache this is for me. Cheerilee’s been breathing down my back about this- -not literally- -and the militia is up in arms. That one literally.” Twilight paused. “Frankly, I didn’t even know we HAD a militia. I didn’t authorize it. You would think becoming an immortal god-ruler would get people to at least TRY to submit the proper paperwork.” 
Twilight then seemed to remember why she came. “Um…so…can I come in?”
“No,” said Cranky as Matilda replied “yes”. Twilight was allowed in and looked around. 
“I’m just…so surprised,” said Matilda. “That they would send you for something this small.”
“Oh, it’s hardly insignificant. This is actually really, really serious. Plus, there were no friendship problems today, so I was super bored.” 
“I see,” said Matilda, her spirit falling. 
“So. Where is he?”
Matilda silently led Twilight through the house, and Cranky followed. They eventually reached a window in the kitchen, and Matilda pointed out into the large backyard. Outside, a metal trashcan from their garage was inverted in its center.
“He’s in there,” she said. 

Twilight approached the garbage can gingerly. Part of the reason that she had been asked to come was because she was most likely immortal. She had never tested that hypothesis thoroughly, of course, and had never wanted to. That, and when she realized the level of uproar that the town was in over one of their most adorable fillies being attacked, Twilight doubted that there could be anypony so disinterested in the affairs of mortals as a god-princess to intervene. Otherwise, the illegal militia would have arrived with pitchforks and torches, and perhaps a sack to make S.B. disappear in. 
“Right,” she said, turning to Matilda and Cranky, both of whom were standing back but watching her carefully. “Let’s test that immortality…”
Twilight reached out with her magic and lifted the metal bin. She had expected to see a colt sitting beneath it, but instead was faced with a rather narrow but surprisingly deep hole. Twilight set the can down and peered in. It was only about two feet deep, and in the bottom she saw something dark quivering in its own tears.  
She reached into the hole with her magic and yanked out its contents. The colt squealed in terror as he was lifted free, but he went silent as soon as he saw Twilight. His eyes widened with surprise, and then widened even more so with fear when he saw Twilight’s wings. 
“Nuuuuu!” he cried, suddenly struggling to escape. “No! Please, Celestia, don’t send me to the moon! Not the moon! NOT THE MOON!” 
“Celestia?” said Twilight. She smiled from the unintentional flattery. “Why would you think I’m Celestia?”
“Because Celestia is supposed to be big and scary and she has wings and a horn,” sniffled S.B., calming down enough to answer the question. 
“So you’re saying I’m big and scary?”
S.B. looked shocked as he realized the mistake he had made insulting a goddess, and immediately broke down into outright weeping. 	
“Not- -the- -MOON!” he wailed. “It’s- -made- -of CHEESE- -and I don’t even- -I don’t- -even- -LIKE cheese! It makes be bloated and gassy!” 
“For one thing, the moon is not made of cheese,” said Twilight, annoyed by his ignorance. “It’s made of basalt and demonic machinery. Second, I’m not Celestia. I’m Princess Twilight Sparkle, divine and eternal god-ruler of Friendship!” She paused. “I’m still working on an impressive sounding title. But I don’t send ponies to the moon. Just ask King Sombra.” This did not seem to calm S.B. “But I’m not here to do that to you. I’m just here to talk.”
“Talk?” said S.B., becoming slightly more calm. 
“Yes. We’ll sit down, maybe have some tea, and talk.”
“No yelling?”
“Again, I’m Twilight. Not Luna.”
“Oh,” said S.B. He looked down at the ground. “Can you put me down, then? You’re holding me up by my wings, and it hurts super bad.” 
“Oops,” said Twilight, setting him down. “Sorry.”

Twilight and S.B. sat down at the Donkey’s kitchen table, each facing the other. S.B. was so short that only his eyes were visible over the edge of the table, which Twilight found humorous. At some point, Matilda brought tea. Twilight levitated her cup and took a sip, finding that it tasted pretty bad, as most tea did to her. She then gently set it down and tried to recall the notes she had made for this conversation. 
“Alright,” she said. “S.B., what you did to Scootaloo was very wrong. A Pegasus’s wings are a very personal part of her anatomy, and very special to her. As a pony who herself has long, soft, luxurious wings…” Twilight extended one of said long, soft, luxurious wings and smiled proudly at it, “I can also tell you that they are quite sensitive. You should never touch a filly’s wings without her consent. That’s harassment, and it’s wrong.”    
“I know that,” sighed S.B. His voice was barely a squeak. He looked so ashamed.
Twilight was confused, though. “Then why did you do it?”
“Because one of the other fillies told me that the biting of wings was the declaration of affection to Pegasi.”
“Wait,” said Twilight, “you mean you were tricked? By whom?”
S.B. remained silent. 
“So you actually believed that biting a Pegasus’s wings was a sign of affection?”
“I just wanted to be her friend…” 
Twilight laughed. For some reason, this made S.B. even more afraid, and Twilight had to stop herself. “Oh, sorry,” she said, still smiling. “See, I knew this had to be some kind of misunderstanding. Do you want to know why?” She did not give S.B. time to answer. “When I was a little filly, my brother once convinced me that all zebras were named ‘Zig-Zag’ and ate nothing but watermelon. It went fine, until a family of zebras moved in down the street.”
“What happened?”
“Well, I found out that they like watermelon pretty much the same amount as ponies. They don’t take to kindly to being called ‘Zig’, though.”
“I hate watermelon,” said a voice from down the hall. “Too much water, and not enough melon. It’s like a communist cucumber.” This was followed by a loud shushing. Apparently, Matilda and Cranky were eavesdropping. Twilight sighed and charged her horn. 
“What? What’s happening! Put me down!” cried Cranky. A few seconds later, he and Matilda were levitated into the room. 
“Didn’t anypony ever teach you it’s rude to levitate people without warning!” growled Cranky as he was set onto the floor. 
“Sorry. It was the easiest way to get you out here.”
“You could just have asked!” 
S.B. looked at Cranky and Matilda. He seemed somewhat calmer with them in the room, but he was too ashamed to look them in the eyes. 
“I think I know what happened,” said Twilight. “S.B. was a victim of a mean prank.”
“I knew it had to be something like that,” said Matilda, sounding greatly relieved. 
“I hate pranks,” muttered Cranky. “I still haven’t gotten the skunk smell out of this place…” 
“So, S.B.,” said Twilight. “Everything is going to be okay. I’m going to talk to Scootaloo about this, and you’re going to have to apologize to her. And disband the militia. But I think you’ve learned your lesson about personal space and boundaries, right?”
“No,” said S.B. sharply.
Twilight blinked. “You haven’t? Because I can explain it again- -”
“Not that. What I did isn’t okay.”
“But…it wasn’t your fault.”
“Does that matter?”
“Well, yes, of course it does. You didn’t mean it.”
“I bit a filly’s wings! It happened! How it happened doesn’t matter, but I DID! An apology isn’t going to undo that.”
“Well, no. But that’s not what an apology is for. It is to recognize that you made a mistake and that you’re willing to still be friends.” 
“Why would she want to be my friend, after that?” S.B. glared at Twilight. “And I’m not even sure I WANT friends, after the first friend I ever had turned out to be tricking me into hurting the first REAL friend I ever could have had!”
Matilda gasped, but Twilight seemed far more concerned than offended. “You’ve never had friends?”
“Why would anyone want to be friends with me? Look at me!” He gestured to his red and black coat and multiple horns. He looked extremely angry, but his anger quickly collapsed into silent sadness. “I’m just…tired. Tired of all this.”
“S.B.,” said Matilda, “it’s going to be okay.”
“No it isn’t. All I ever wanted was to just be an ordinary pony. Or even a donkey, like you. But instead, I’m stuck like this. Ugly. Deformed. STUPID. If I didn’t look like this, maybe I would have had the confidence to talk to Scootaloo myself instead. Or to the others. Or to not have everypony hate me.”
“But your physical appearance is an important part of you,” said Twilight. 
“But it isn’t me! I don’t want to be an edgy loner!” He wiped his eyes, trying to avoid tears. “I just want to look like me…” 
Matilda hugged him, and Cranky stood back, his naturally stoic nature making him appear unmoved. Twilight, though, furrowed her brow deeply. She understood what it was like to be physically different from other ponies, and the idea of having one’s external features match their true self was a fear that had always been with her. In Twilight’s case, though, the solution had simply been greater motivation to her alicornhood- -but for S.B., the situation was different. He seemed like a quite ordinary if unusually eloquent little colt trapped in a body that even he seemed to hate. 
“You know what,” said Twilight. “I think I might know a way to help you…” 

Twilight, as a Princess, did not bother to walk places. She instead teleported from Cranky and Matilda’s house directly into the center of Ponyville, taking S.B. with her. As soon as she rematerialized, S.B. fell to the ground. 
“Ack!” he cried, landing on his back and kicking wildly. “Nauseous!” 
“That’s normal,” said Twilight, pushing S.B. back into a righted position with her hoof. “I’m actually kind of surprised you didn’t catch on fire. That happens a lot.”
“Fire?”
“Yeah,” laughed Twilight, leading S.B. toward a large building that they had appeared in front of. “Yet another advantage to being an alicorn. Inflammability. Almost makes up for the body alopecia.” 
S.B. did not have a change to ask what that meant, but he guessed that it probably had something to do with either Twilgiht’s wings or the fact that her alicorn body was completely hairless save for her mane and tail. It was kind of gross, actually. 
Instead, Twilight approached the door of the building and knocked. There was a moment of pause, and then the door swung open. An all-white unicorn with perfectly coiffed blue hair looked out at Twilight. She smiled. “Twilight, darling, you’re just in time! I was just making you a new dress, and found myself thinking about your flank size and…” Her eyes drifted to S.B. and she suddenly trailed off. 
“Oh my,” she said after a long pause. “Red…and…black….”
“White unicorn!” moaned S.B.
Both of them immediately fainted at the sight of each other. Twilight caught both of them in her magic before they hit the floor.
“Great,” she muttered. “Now I have two of them.” 
She picked them up and entered Rarity’s house and boutique. She first set Rarity down on a sofa that seemed to have been largely intended for such circumstances, and then picked up S.B. and shook him. 
“Wake up!” she said.
“Huh?” said S.B., his eyes opening. He then looked at Twilight and screamed. “GAH! Celestia, please, no don’t send me to the moon!”
“We already went over this,” said Twilight, annoyed.
“Oh,” said S.B. “I forgot.”
Twilight set him down on the floor, and they both looked at Rarity. 
“I’m so ugly I have her the dead!” wailed S.B., covering his eyes. 
“No you didn’t. She didn’t even really faint. She’s just being dramatic.” 
“Well, I certainly have cause to be, don’t I?” said Rarity, her sudden return causing S.B. to jump. “Red and black! Wings, extraneous horns- -HETEROCHROMIA! So garish! GARISH I SAY!” 
“Like parsley?” suggested S.B.
“Garish, darling, not ‘garnish’.” She suddenly sat up and covered her mouth with her hooves, looking as though she were about to spill her cupcakes. “Oh! Please don’t make me even THINK about adding green to that already abominable color scheme! It just…it’s too much!” She fainted again, this time striking the most dramatic pose possible on the sofa. 
“Welllllll, I was hoping you could help fix that.”
Rarity sat up. “Darling, I may be Best Pony, but even I can’t perform miracles! Changing a coat color that horrid- -”
S.B. jumped with a squeak. “It’s possible to CHANGE COAT COLOR?!” he cried. 
“Well, yes, of course it is. Ponies do it all the time. We can’t all be born with fabulous white coats.” She smiled abashedly at Twilight. “No offense, darling, of course. Purple is…a color?” 
“You mean you can make me pretty?” said S.B. “Oh, please please please please please! I’ll give you all the money…” S.B.’s expression suddenly fell. “I don’t have any money…”
“Well, no, with a color like that, I wouldn’t expect you to. Don’t worry, though. I’m known for being fabulously generous. For a crime of nature like this, I can do it pro-bono.” She leaned in close to S.B., but not too close so as to avoid catching the ugly. “Besides, I’ll write it off my taxes.”
“The taxes you pay to me,” muttered Twilight. 
Rarity stood up, apparently unaffected by her fainting spells, and led Twilight and S.B. to the back of her shop, and then into a small staircase that led to her basement. It was dark and cold, and smelled funny, but S.B. was so intent on even the possibility of a color change that he did not even hesitate to enter the cellar. 
S.B. was led to an area in front of a large vat. With a surprising amount of force, Rarity pushed the metal top off. A plume of toxic fumes escaped from the bubbling fluid below, and S.B. jumped back.
“Eew! Not smells pretty!” he cried.
“It’s not supposed to, darling,” said Rarity, who was now putting on an impermeable apron and a pair of shoulder-length vinyl gloves. 
“I’m not sure you should be putting those on in front of child,” said Twilight. 
Rarity pointed to the vat. “That container is filled with hydrogen peroxide and ammonium chloride. Bleach, in the laypony’s terms. Very powerful. I would be RUINED if even a drop of it were allowed to stain my perfect coat!”
“But you’re already white.”
“Yes, but NATURAL white.”
“And yet you have a vat of hair bleach in your basement,” mused S.B., who had lifted himself to the edge of the vat and was looking in at the thick gooey off-white fluid. 
He then felt a pair of gloved hooves pick him up, and he was rotated to face Rarity. She stared into his eyes for a long moment, and then a strange and disturbing smile crossed his face.
“Are you ready to dye?” she whispered.
“Um…no?”
Without any hesitation, S.B. was then plunged into the vat. Having not expected to be completely submerged, he struggled and resisted, but Rarity held him tightly and forced him under. 
“Dye dye dye DYE!” she screamed. “Dye Mary Sue, DYE!” 
“Rarity!” cried Twilight.
“What?” said Rarity. “He knew what he was getting into. If you want to be pretty, you have to be willing to dye for it.”
“I’m pretty sure he didn’t.” Twilight looked into the vat. “How is he breathing in there?”
“Um…” Rarity’s face scrunched. “Magic?”
“Oh. Okay.” 
Rarity then turned her attention to the vat of hair bleach. S.B. had stopped struggling, which probably meant that the process was done. She then pulled him out. 
S.B. hung limply for a moment, then coughed and sputtered and coughed out the bleach. 
“Ow…” he groaned. “Not tastes pretty either…” 
He then gasped in utter surprise as he looked down at himself. His black and red color had been completely removed, replaced instead with light gold. “Look!” he cried with joy. “I’m so pretty!”
“Not yet, dearie,” said Rarity. “Right now you look like a unicorn supremacist. And with that color, the roots…” Rarity shuddered. “No. We need to counter dye you too.”
“More dyeing?”
Rarity giggled manically. “More dyeing!” 

Several long, grueling hours later, S.B. stood neat, clean, and sweet-smelling in the middle of Cranky and Matilda’s living room. 
“Alright,” said Twilight, leading Cranky and Matilda into the room. “The change is pretty substantial, so don’t faint. I’ve had enough of that today. But I think you’re going to like it!”
When they appeared in the room, both of them gasped, and S.B. beamed at them. S.B.’s coat color had been changed to a pale brown, and his mane a slightly darker brown not too different from the color of Matilda’s. His cutie mark- -which, apparently, did not bleach- -was displayed brightly and freely on his flank.
“What happened to your horns?” said Matilda. 
S.B. lifted his hair, showing where his central horn had been reduced to a small, flat, raised area in the center of his upper forehead. “Miss Rarity ground them off for me!” He looked back at his bat-like wings. “I wanted her to take the wings too, but she said she wasn’t a doctor and Twilight stopped her. But I still look like a thestral, though, and that’s a normal type of pony!” 
“I also scheduled an appointment with a friend from magic school,” said Twilight. “She’s a dentist. Kind of.”
“I’m going to get my teeth fixed!” said S.B., who was by this time jumping up and down with excitement.” 
“Oh yeah!” said Twilight. “I also got this for you.” She produced a small pale-pink container. “I pinched this from Fluttershy. It’s her contact lenses.” 
“Fluttershy wears contacts?” said Cranky. 
“Yes. Colored ones. She normally has red-pink eyes, and they’re…disturbing.” 
“I can have real eyes too?!” cried S.B., opening the box and looking at the enormous blue-tinged lenses. “This is best day EVER!”  
“I don’t know how I feel about this,” said Matilda. 
“You mean I don’t look adorable?”
“No, you look fine…I just don’t know how feel about you changing your appearance this much. I mean…” She paused. “Wouldn’t it be like me trying to pretend to be a pony? It just feels disingenuous.” 
“Except that I didn’t change to be something I’m not, I changed to be what I really was the whole time!” He turned to Cranky. “It’ll be so much easier to be confident now!”
“We’ll see,” said Cranky. “It’s a bit harder than that, kid.” S.B.’s smile started to fall. “But…I am glad you chose a normal color. Not some day-glow nonsense like those ponies. You can’t go wrong with brown.” 
S.B. smiled again, this time as wide as he possibly could. For the first time in a very long time, he felt good about himself.