They say the distance between two stars is determined by difference in length of Celestia's first and last yawn of the day. I do not believe that theory. With the amount of visible stars in the sky it would take the Princess a million million days of yawning—a feat that even her immortality wouldn't allow. And even if she could, which two were those she'd yawn at? Of the nearly endless stars, does she choose two at random every day? Or does she—
"Good morning, Gummy! Did you sleep well? I sleep well! I dreamt of Rarity, and ice cream monsters, and bowling balls..."
The voice of chaos invaded my mind. Six forty-five—seven minutes earlier than the overall average. When I took her as my pet I thought she'd help with my work; as the wise say "a pinch of chaos is the catalyst of a learned mind." Even the great gator Archimedes made his most notable discovery thanks to his Eureka moment.
"I know! How about you have a bath! I'll go and make it extra bubbly!"
Alas, unlike Archimedes I didn't have an Eureka. Instead, I had a Pinkie Pie. In the folly of my youth I equated the amount of chaos to the greatness of the discovery. Now I have to live with that miscalculation.
"Aaaaah!" Pinkie Pie inhaled half the air in the room, transforming into her very own species of Tetraodontidae. "I just had a great idea! I'll bake Rarity a bowling ball cake! Do you want to help me with the recipe?"
There was a time I'd say no, or try to struggle, even bite if needed. All to no avail. Trying to change Pinkie Pie's mind was like using hay to put out a fire. I suppose one could achieve that provided a sufficiently large amount of hay. Interesting, how many straws of hay would it take to put out a one-room fire? Going by the classical theories, the volume of the fire cubed should be enough, which roughly speaking would be the size of a squared barn.
"Psst, Gummy, can you keep a secret?" The pony stuck her face onto mine. I tried not to flinch. Years of experience had taught me that if I ignored her hard enough she'd go away. "I think Rarity might have noticed that Spike had a crush on her since she's always taking him along when she's searching for new gems, and Spike eats gems, so it's like she's inviting him to a candy store, but Maud also likes gems, so maybe that also makes her part dragon?"
More useless pony drama. Cruel, cruel fate. I, who had ten times the mind of Archimedes, was kept from swimming the sea of knowledge by the very pet I had chosen to inspire me. Meanwhile, that hack Owlowiscious reaped the rewards of his pet becoming an alicorn.
"I knew I could count on you to keep a secret!" Pinkie Pie winked. I had no idea why. "Now you just start preparing the batter while I go to buy some bowling balls, okay?" She put a whisk in my mouth. "Slow and steady, remember?"
I ignored her and she left. The sounds of the tune she hummed lingered on for a few seconds more before hurrying away after her. Finally, I was alone. The chaos had dissipated, leaving my mind sharp to tackle—
Pinkie Pie! I shouted on the inside. Of course! How could I be so blind! The distance between two stars could be calculated based on the wavelength of their songs and the time it took them to reach the observer. It was so obvious! Science would finally move beyond the arcane concept of quantum-yawning and reach new heights. Our understanding of the star carpet would grow by immeasurable amounts. Although, if the sky is a carpet and the stars aren't as close to each other as we thought, what would the angle of the neighbouring wrinkles—
"Gummy!" Pinkie Pie's head popped through the kitchen window. "I almost forgot! Do you want me to buy you anything while I'm out?"
My muscles froze. The ball of euphoria gathered inside me vanished like a puff of smoke. Why must I suffer to have my greatest thoughts given to me by this pony only to have them snatched away moments later?
Ignore her. I told myself, trying to focus on the thought, before it slithered away beyond my reach. Think stars, think songs, think—
"Oh, I see how it is." Pinkie Pie's smile widened until it filled the entire window. "Don't worry, I'll buy you a bucket of orange taffy." She gave me a surreptitious wink. "Just promise me you'll share it this time!"
Taffy, candy, bowling ball batter. Why should she insist on troubling me with base food when discoveries await? I licked my left eye in an attempt to retain my focus. Even the fair Opalescence didn't suffer as many distractions. Maybe I could ask her to swap ponies? A week would be enough for me to unlock the secrets of the heavens and so much more. A day would be enough, half a day, one full hour.
"Are you sure?" Pinkie Pie arched an eye, in an expression I had learned to characterize as chaotically perplexed. "Really sure? I mean I'm not sure, but if you're sure, then you're sure."
Yes, I'm sure! I wanted to yell. Whatever it was I was supposed to be sure about I was sure, as sure as Pythagoras was when he solved the triangle dilemma, or Archimedes when he discovered the secret of Pie—the unadulterated Pie, not the chaos engine I had found.
"Well, if you're sure." Pinkie Pie shrugged as she did each time after monologuing with me. "I'll do that when I get back. Just don't forget the batter? Slow and steady, remember?"
I ignored her. A few seconds patience and I would be free to think, perchance to dream.
"And good luck with your star problem," Pinkie Pie said as her head disappeared out of sight.