//------------------------------// // Down and Down We Go // Story: A Dictionary Problem // by Dreams of Ponies //------------------------------// Knock knock! Sitting neck deep in scrollwork, Spike peeked his head up. The dark circles around his eyes creased as he blinked, slowly looking toward the exit of the library. Knock knock! “Spike! There’s somepony at the door!” Twilight’s voice called out, magically piped in from somewhere in the castle. With a low grumble, he removed himself from the pile of paperwork, moving toward the front door as he yawned. “You know…” he called out, “…some ponies can teleport, and don’t have short stubby legs in this enormous castle.” “But I need to know what caused the initial collapse of the ancient pony governments in Saddle Arabia!” With a snort, Spike walked down the long, crystal hallways, the knocking on the castle door growing ever more insistent. “Yeah, yeah. I’m coming already!” Spike reached up and pulled back on the ornate door to reveal a goofy-eyed grey mare with a quirky smile. “Oh, heya, Derpy.” Spike watched as the mailmare opened her bag with a hoof, and then extracted a rather hefty package from inside. As the full weight of the item fell onto her hoof, she nearly flopped over, a surprised squeak escaping her mouth. With wide eyes, Spike reached up and caught the package, as well as helping to steady the whimsical wall-eyed mare. “Gotcha, Derpy.” There was an exchange of laughter and goofy grins. “What’s in the box?” Derpy shrugged, using her mouth to pull out a small clipboard with a charcoal pen attached by a string. “I dunno, but ish heavy.” “Heh, yeah.” Spike scanned the clipboard, then eyed the addressee printed at the top. “AnonymousAlicorn123… Really, Twilight?” His eyes drifted lower, widening at the bill. “That’s a lot of bits, Derpy. You sure that’s right?” Derpy took the clipboard back into her hooves and looked it over, eyeing it carefully. “Ayyeppers! That’s one expensive book.” As Spike rubbed the bridge of his nose with a claw, he thanked Derpy, then moved back inside. Taking a deep breath, he yelled into the wide hallway, “Twilight! I’ve got your book!” There was a flash of purple, a rustle of feathers, and just like that, the book was gone. Spike stared at his empty claws in annoyance before proceeding into the council room. The table map sat there, absent of any quests for the moment, paying Spike no mind as he walked around to Twilight’s chair. Staring up at the star that represented his sister’s cutie mark, a slow smirk crossed his face as he drew in a breath. With precision and purpose, a small stream of fire fed into the star, slowly heating it to a bright red. After a long moment, Spike turned and sat in the chair. “Three… two… one…” “Yiiipe!” A flash of purple once again heralded the arrival of the great Princess of Friendship herself. She landed with a splat atop the table, her hoof rubbing across her flashing cutie mark. “Spike! That’s not funny!” With a slight chuckle, Spike reached behind the chair he sat on, his claw finding the edge of the bucket he’d put there after this happened last time. “We’re going to have a long talk when—” Spike splashed her with the lukewarm water, her cutie mark letting off a little hiss of steam as a result. “Yeah, we do need to talk.” Spike glared at Twilight, moving from the chair before spinning and demanding, “Sit!” “You can’t treat me like I’m a dog, Spike.” Twilight preened herself, glaring at Spike. “I’ve already done my time, Twilight. Now it’s your turn. Now sit!” She gave him an angry glare, but did as she was told. “Now…” Spike breathed a little fire into his claws, a long scroll manifesting into existence. “With this latest purchase, you’ve put us into the hole…” His eyes flicked up and down the parchment before answering, “…nearly five-hundred-thousand bits… and some change.” Twilight’s mouth fell open, a moment passing before she started, “There’s no w—” “101 Ways to Re-organize Your Library, five hundred bits,” Spike interrupted, his claw going down the list. “The Encyclopedic Guide to Encyclopedias, sixteen-thousand bits...” Twilight wilted under his gaze. “I don’t see what the pro—” “Fascinating Facts on the Paleopony Periodand Why It Shouldn’t Be Named After Stone, first edition, seventy-thousand bits.” Twilight stuck out her bottom lip. “But I loved that one. Spike, are you telling me to stop reading?” Spike shook his head vigorously. “No, Twilight. You just have to stop buying all these expensive books.” “But… but…” Twilight stomped on the throne, then her lips curled into a smile. “Don’t worry, Spike, I’ve got it all under control.” “No, you don’t.” Spike narrowed his eyes. “You’ve got a serious addiction, Twilight.” “I don’t have a problem!” Twilight nearly shouted. “I can stop anytime I want!” She jumped off the chair, wings flapping as she left the room. “I just need more bits. I know, I’ll ask Celestia!” “I won’t send that letter!” Spike began running after her, but she was out of sight almost instantly. “I can teleport, remember?” she mocked, her echo compounding the effect. “Faust help us all.” Spike wandered back into the library, setting aside the list of expensive egghead material as he looked over the mess once more. A few minutes later, there was a yawn and the sound of hooves stepping inside. “Hey, Spike. What’s with all the yelling?” Spike looked over his shoulder briefly before returning to his work. “Hey, Starlight. It’s nothing really, just Twilight’s eccentric book collection finally catching up to us.” Starlight laughed as she stepped close enough to look over Spike’s shoulder. “What’s all this?” Her eyes widened as she read some of the figures listed. “Castle checkbook.” He pointed at varying lists. “We only get income from what Celestia allots us, as well as the occasional donation. We just don’t have the bits to cover this extreme learning binge she’s been on since last month.” Starlight whistled as she read the last figure. “I didn’t know you were this good at math.” Spike gave a good-natured chuckle. “Growing up with Twilight did have some advantages, you know.” “But this…” Starlight held up the paper. “Pretty sure this isn’t math anymore. These prices are astronomical.” Spike blinked slowly, looking at her with a raised eyebrow. “I give it a four out of ten.” “Ugh.” Starlight manifested her own list and quill. “Marking ‘attempt at humor’ off the friendship checklist.” “I appreciate the effort, though. I just wish Twilight could skip the manic phase before the crash, you know?” “Is it always the same?” Starlight’s eyebrows furrowed. “How often does this happen?” Spike shrugged. “Oh, at least once every month or so. Not so much lately, but still…” “Speaking of the Princess of Villain Reform, where is Twilight?” Spike almost choked as he glanced towards the library exit. “Jeez, Starlight, you were holding out on me.” Starlight’s cheeks tinted red as she smiled, rubbing a hoof through her mane. “Anyway,” Spike continued, “Twilight’s trying to bum some more money from Princess Celestia. I doubt she’ll get any, but we’ll find out pretty so—” A flash later, and a miserable Twilight was grumbling at their hooves. “Celestia told me to get a job!” Twilight cried. “That tea-drinking, cake-shoveling, feather-brained, overblown flashlight!” Starlight gasped, her hoof going to her mouth. Spike, however, was the first to speak. “Wow, Twilight. You really need help.” Twilight stomped her hoof, opened her mouth to retort, and then stopped short. “You’re actually right, Spike.” She touched a hoof to her chin. “Who could I ask?” A surprised smile spread across Spike’s face. “Well, honestly, probably Applejack, or maybe Rarity could suggest—” Twilight snorted, before falling into a maddening giggle. “Of course you would say Rarity.” A goofy little grin crept across Twilight’s face. “And you think I’m the one with the problem? That tale is beyond you, Spike.” Spike sputtered as Starlight’s eyes widened. “Wow, Twilight. That’s harsh. You sure you’re okay?” There was a twitch in Twilight’s right eye as she nodded furiously. “Totally fine!” Then she blinked. “Actually, Rarity might just be the pony to talk to. Great idea, Starlight!” Then Twilight flapped her wings, flying upside-down as she exited the castle. “What in Equestria is wrong with that mare?” Starlight nudged Spike with a hoof as his eyes came back into focus. Spike snorted, grabbing a few scrolls as he spoke. “She’s already going through withdrawal.” Spike turned and started off after Twilight at a brisk pace. “She’s just not herself when she’s hungry for knowledge.” Starlight trotted next to him, her brow furrowed. “There has to be more to it than that, Spike. I’ve never seen her this bad.” Nodding solemnly, Spike answered, “She’s also repressing the fact that she’s spent more bits on books in the past month that honestly, we could have repaired the town hall five times over already.” “Great, soooo now what?” “Now we hope Rarity can talk some sense into her. Otherwise, there’s no telling how bad this will get.”