//------------------------------// // McPoodle's Status Nominal (Immanuel's "Twilight makes first contact") // Story: Never the Final Word (Vol. 2) // by FanOfMostEverything //------------------------------// Dave burst through the door of a windowless room deep within the bowels of the White House. He brought a pink box of donuts as a pitiful peace offering for being late. “Can you believe that Stephanie Meyer is being taught in my daughter’s American Literature class?” he asked nobody in particular. “What is this world coming to?” He planted the box at the center of the table and looked around at his fellow speechwriters to see if anybody was going to get any of his donuts, or answer his rhetorical question. There were no takers on either account. Instead, the group of eight anonymous authors shared an identical hangdog expression. “Alright, what is it?” Dave asked. “The leader of the alien delegation,” a woman named Ellen answered. “What are we supposed to call her?” Dave picked up the packet of paper listing all of the information known about the alponies that was thought to be relevant for the crucial speech the President would be giving in three hours. He gave a double-take on seeing the name, but then shrugged in resignation. “Well, Twilight, right?” he said a few moments later. “I mean, that’s the only part that’s concrete.” “Just ‘Twilight’ is too impersonal,” another writer named Rob complained. “She said it was her family name.” Dave looked through the list of personal names that the alien’s translation “fairy” had provided. “Twilight Dawn?” “Isn’t that an oxymoron?” Rob replied. “Twilight Glimmer?” “Still doesn’t sound right.” “And what about the title?” asked Ellen. “Can we not?” suggested Rob. “She managed to list every possible title short of maharaja.” “Maharaja Twilight Glimmer?” “No, Dave.” Dave pointed to the page. “It says here that she’s the youngest...whatever she is, in their world’s history.” A voice at the back of the room, belonging to the elder spokesman of the group of writers, spoke up. “Prince Henry the Navigator was a younger son of the King of Portugal,” he said. “With no chance of ever being king himself, he turned his resources to exploration, and was largely responsible for the European discovery of India. Perhaps this Twilight has a similar motivation.” “I’ve got it!” Dave exclaimed. “Princess Twilight Sparkle!” There was a moment of silence, followed by the whole room breaking out in uproarious laughter for a full minute. “Seriously, though,” Ellen said after the room had quieted down. “What the hell are we going to call her?” The President's nine speechwriters settled into sharing an identical hangdog expression.