“Spike…” There was a groan and a shift of covers. “Spike.”
“Nooo, Emerald, I don’t love you for your Rarity.”
“Spike!”
The dragon turned and promptly fell out of bed with a heavy thump. He looked up blearily to see Starlight looking anxiously at him. “Huh? What’s…” He yawned. “...the matter?”
“He’s here.”
Spike slowly blinked. “Sorry, Starbright. Wha… who is it?”
“The city code enforcer.”
“Celestia’s beard.” Spike slapped a claw across his mouth. Looking up, he murmured an apology before getting up. “Do you know what he wants?”
“No, I just…” Starlight shivered. “He asked to see the secretary of this royal building.”
Spike rolled his eyes. “I guess that’s me, technically. And with that pony, technically is all that matters.”
They walked towards the front of the castle for a moment before Starlight split off. Spike turned, raising his eyebrows. “What? Not even for moral support?”
“That pony makes Maud Pie look like her sister.” Starlight fled.
Stepping up to the doors, Spike took a deep breath. “Alright.” He removed the last barrier separating him from insanity.
The grey unicorn stood there, waiting, staring ever forward. Spike tried not to shiver at the blank stare, trying his best to smile as he raised a claw.
“Hello, Prime. I’ve been expecting you.”
The pony raised a hoof, meeting Spike’s gesture with painstaking slowness. “Hello, Secretary Spike. And I would like to remind you that the name of which I prefer to be called upon is Mr. Numbers.”
“Oh, right…” Spike trailed off. “Anyway, down to business?”
Mr. Numbers cleared his throat very slowly. “I am here upon hearing that one…” He looked down and read from a clipboard he was holding. “…‘AnonymousAlicorn123’ has imported a number of literary materials deemed unsuitable for the confines of a royal palace.”
Spike groaned and nodded. “Which books?”
Mr. Numbers didn’t even look down. “I must address the pony in question. There are several details of which I must go over before we can collect said material.”
Spike’s face drooped. “Follow me, then.” Instead of leading the pony inside, Spike walked past Mr. Numbers out towards the center of Ponyville. There was only the tiniest change in elevation of the inspector’s eyebrow as he turned and followed without a word.
Sure enough, Spike spotted the line long before the actual book fiend. He trotted past Lyra and Bon-bon, both of whom pranced anxiously. With an eye roll, he moved past, walking down the long line of mostly mares. Flashes of purple magic perfectly identified Twilight’s location as they arrived at the stand. Piles of bits, mounds of money one could actually swim through, sat behind a widely grinning Twilight Sparkle and an extra floofy Rarity.
“Twilight!” Spike called. Twilight was going through customers at a breakneck speed. “Twilight, stop!” She did no such thing. In fact, she didn’t even acknowledge Spike’s presence. He ran close enough to tug hard on her wing. “Twilight!”
Twilight turned, her face twitching as she smiled. “You need a floof… I’ve got it. I’ve got your floof right here.”
“Oh, Celestia.” Spike cringed back as Twilight’s horn glowed and blasted him with purple magic. When he could see colors other than purple, Spike scowled up at Twilight. “Really?” He brushed his claws through a now fluffy chest, not recalling ever having chest hair. “Twilight, you need to stop.”
“Can’t stop.” Twilight started to turn back to the crowd. “Won’t stop.”
“Can I assume that you are ‘AnonymousAlicorn123’?” Mr. Number’s voice wasn’t loud, but the perfect monotone seemed to strike a tuning fork in Twilight’s mind.
Blinking slowly, she turned back and answered, “Yes?”
With practiced ease, the stallion produced a small folding table, ink pot, quill, and papers from hammerspace, and then sat down. “If you would.”
“We’ll be taking a little break, everypony!” Twilight yelled to the crowd, many of whom groaned in disappointment. She moved to sit down opposite of Mr. Numbers, suddenly slow and methodical with her movements.
“Now, Miss Sparkle, do you require me to explain who I am and the purpose for my visit today?”
Twilight looked the pony over, from his plain, formal mane style to the badge number, complete with black letterings of Prime Numbers. “No,” she said, face tilting downwards. “No, I do not.”
“Very well, then.” Mr. Numbers began writing on small, yellow slips of paper before passing them to Twilight. “This one is for the possession of improper materials on royal grounds. Two hundred bits per item.” His quill scratched again. “Use of pseudonyms for the purpose of acquiring said materials, an additional five hundred per.”
Twilight’s mouth dropped.
“Operating a business without a license, practicing magical cosmetology without a permit or proper facility,” Mr. Numbers continued, “improper storage of bits, use of B class magic while mentally unstable.” He wrote down a few more figures, then spelt it all out. “And finally, we come to a grand total of one million, three-hundred-thousand bits.”
“You have no soul!” Twilight cried.
Mr. Numbers wrote a bit more. “That’s immaterial.”
Twilight died.
Spike worked at his table, scrolls unfurled all the way to the floor. Sighing, he pushed away, eyelids heavy from the financial torrent of the last weeks. A moment later, there was a flash, and Twilight appeared in front of him.
“Hey, Twilight.” Spike didn’t even flinch.
“Guess what, Spike!” Twilight pranced in her business dress as she smiled. “I got a job!”
Spike blinked. “Really? Doing what?”
Twilight’s smile widened. “Helping Mr. Numbers write tickets. Apparently, while I broke a lot of rules, he was willing to get me a job as his assistant.”
“How did you even manage that?” Spike shook his head at the ridiculousness of his life.
“Oh, I bribed him.” Twilight blushed only slightly. “Apparently, The truth about Imaginary Numbers is something he’s been searching for.”
“Of course… Everypony wants something.”
Twilight laughed, rubbing her hoof on Spike’s head. “Now I’m off to make ponies miserable!” In another flash, Twilight was gone, and so was every thread of sanity Spike had left. With a sigh, he pulled a blank scroll from the paper pile, a quill at the ready.
“Dear Princess Celestia. Today I learned… well, I learned something. I’m just not entirely sure what. If anything, I’m more confused than I’ve ever been.
“Thank you for helping with Twilight. She really didn’t need any more enabling at that point. Anyway, I’m going to take a ten-year nap.
“P.S. If Numbers isn’t in your favor, you’ve got better odds fighting a bugbear with a blindfold.”