*beep*
*beep*
*beep*
*bee-deep-beep-deep-bee-deep-deep-beep-dee-beep-beep-dee-beeeeeeep*
Nurse Redheart spun around and glared at Pinkie who was currently dressed in a spiked blue mohawk and reflective shades. Pinkie had what appeared to be a turntable and multichannel synthesizer/mixer plugged into the beeping, flashing equipment beside the hospital bed. She gave the turntable a quick spin, causing a warbling, trilling wail.
"DJ PONK@ IN DA HOOUUSSEEE!"
"Pinkie!" she scolded. "This is an intensive care ward! Not an EDM rave! Would you kindly stop messing with Twilight's equipment?"
Pinkie folded up her turntable and synthesizer into her mane and pronked over to where Fluttershy and Rarity were standing.
Redheart rubbed the bridge of her muzzle in exasperation.
Celestia banish it, why do these things always happen before I get to go on break?
"Ok! From the top!" She pointed a hoof at Rarity. "You said she came to you for advice concerning a stallion?"
Rarity nodded. "That is correct. The poor dear was in quite a state. It seems she finally found a perfect stallion, but circumstances were keeping them apart."
Redheart nodded sagely. "I certainly hope so! I told him to keep Twilight out during non-visiting hours"
"Beg pardon?"
Suspicious Circumstances, one of the security guards here at PGMC. Twilight was making a nuisance of herself, so I had Mr. Circumstances escort her out with orders not to allow her into the wards until the next visiting hours."
"Oh."
"Oh?" Redheart looked askance at Rarity.
Rarity nervously pawed the laminate floor with her hoof. "I may have said something to the effect of 'Not even fate can keep true love separated. True love finds a way to scale any wall, overcome any obstacle'. I did not realise she would take it so literally."
"Right". Redheart pointed at Pinkie. "She came to you for for help, yes?"
Pinkie bounced in place excitedly. "Yeppers! Twilight came all sad and grumpy-wumpy and I asked her what was wrong and she said that she need me to make a special recipe of the worst, most awfulest Baked Bads I could so she could go to the hospital to be with her 'True Love' because that's what Rarity says and that true loves would not be kept by circumstance or Circumstances so I made her the worst Baked Bads I could think of even though the Cakes said I was not allowed after the last time, but Twilight's a princess so I had to listen to her so I made them with raisins, okra, broccoli, and oatmeal, because I knew she was going a bit loco in the coco and I even use carob beans which everypony says tastes like chocolate, but it really is a lie and tastes like sadness and disappointment and I baked them in the oven for—"
"Right right right! I think I get the picture." She stared at the oesophageal tube pumping the contents out of Twilight's stomach. "Before today, I wasn't aware that alicorns could get poisoned..."
"Fluttershy!"
*eep!*
"Can you explain that?" Redheart asked, pointing with her hoof.
"That" was a mass of stitches, sutures, and scrapes criss-crossing Twilight's face, head, neck, and muzzle.
"Um, she flew over to the cottage and blew a raspberry on Angel Bunny's tummy while he was sleeping."
Redheart's eyes boggled. "Are you telling me that Princess Twilight was savaged by a little rabbit?"
"Um, he gets...cranky when you startle him awake from his nap."
Redheart's rejoiner was interrupted by a pained groan from Twilight's bed.
Rarity was the first to spin around. "Girls! Girls! She's finally awake!"
"Uughh...! Where...where am I?"
"You are in the Critical Care ward of Ponyville General Medical Centre. You are stable now, but you gave all of us quite a scare."
Twilight tried to focus her eyes on the voices and shapes to her side. Everything was all muzzy, and fuzzy, and wobbly. "What happened? What's wrong with me?"
Redheart sighed, reached into her saddlebag, and withdrew a thick scroll.
*thump!* *swish* *swish* *swish*
The bottom of the scroll hit the ground with an impressively solid sound, rolled across the floor, and out the door.
Redheart put on a pair of spectacles and stared at the top of the diagnosis in her hoof. "I think it would be easier to enumerate what isn't wrong. According to your diagnosis, you aren't pregnant and you don't have testicular cancer."
She stared down at Twilight over the tops of her spectacles. "You have a lengthy convalescence ahead of you, Princess. At least three to four months."
"Oh." Twilight paused thoughtfully. "Well, can I at least see Pyro then?"
"The high-altitude flyer? Only during visiting hours; he was checked out five hours ago."