There was no possible way this would work. Nor should it ever work, no matter the circumstance. But the evidence was almost damning.
For some reason, there was a fairly large percentage of success.
For some reason, Brandt was led to believe this could actually work.
For some reason, he was doing it because he wanted to sate his curiosity, and possibly, prove a point.
He checked his disguise.
Brandt batted away any straying strands of the literal tie-dye mop sitting on his head, slathered in Celestia’s colors. He tugged at his breast pocket, making sure the phone stuck out just enough to record it all. He slipped the specially-crafted shoes on to finish it all off. Quickly bringing out the mirror, he stared at the slapdash outfit.
It would have to do on such short notice.
People would plan for months on end, intricately laying out a step-by-step process to perform absolutely daring heists. With methods of cunning and feats of skill, they would pull off what was previously believed to be impossible. Rob the bank that had never been successfully robbed? Nab the diamond from the middle of a laser minefield of security personnel? Steal the prisoner from the maximum security prison?
Some of those were years in the making.
And yet, here he was, about to just waltz straight into grand archives of Canterlot and come out the other end with “loot,” without anything in his plan besides: walk, pretend to be someone else, and grab what looked shiny or important. And all of this, created in the span of a latter half of an afternoon, coupled with his walk on the way here.
Truly, Brandt was a mastermind.
And now, a new dawn signaled that everything was to roll into motion.
He made sure to remind himself if he was to try the same shit at any other place, they would have him in a headlock faster than he could blink.
He took a deep breath and steeled his nerves. Here goes nothing.
He awkwardly dropped to all fours and clonked his way to the entrance of the archives, nearly toppling over. Humans were not built to walk the same way ponies did. Brandt made sure to remind himself that the things on his feet would be the death of him—if his costume wasn't going to be the cause of it. Almost silently did he hear a string of words repeated in the back of his head. This is stupid and it's never going to work… this is stupid and it's never going to work… and so on. A part of him wanted to believe it, mostly so he could get this all over with.
Brandt was now in clear view of the guards patrolling the way there.
And not a single guard dared stop him as he shambled through.
One even had the gall to salute him and greet him with, “Good morning, Princess!”
This shouldn't be working. It really shouldn't.
He smiled and returned the greeting. He had a character to maintain and manners to keep.
Through the ridiculous wooden soles he had procured, he was nearing the first hurdle of the entire plan: the door to actually get inside.
Here, Brandt was seriously hoping to fail or at least encounter far more resistance than he had prior.
Because if the ponies guarding this were just as bad or, dare he say it, worse than the normal guards, he would tear his real hair off and cry. Because that meant so much more work for him to try and fix all of this. And that meant that these ponies were not deserving of the title, “elite.”
The ponies in question; the Elite Royal Guards, were distinguishable by their sharper plumes, accented navy-blue full-body armor, and intimidating featureless masks.
By all accounts, they looked the part. But the question stood if whether or not they lived up to it.
This would be their test.
Brandt knew two of them were tasked to always watch the way into the massive library of books, tomes, and scrolls.
So he stepped up and mustered all that he had. Let’s win us an Emmy. He raised his hand and—
“Oh, hi, Princess Celestia! What brings you here today?” one of them cheerfully asked.
Oh for fuck’s sake.
He forced himself to smile and not immediately break cover. Now how did the princess talk again? “Hello, my little ponies. I’ve come to… er, check out some books for work.”
“Oh, okay. Have a good time, princess!” he responded.
And for the second time, the doors closed behind him. Brandt once again found himself standing in his destination, with much less hassle—mind you—than the first set of guards he had met. Granted, some of the trouble had been self-generated. But still! How could guards this… incompetent even serve as guards? How had this country not fallen into lawless anarchy!?
This is all so hopeless. And so he wanted to punch something.
Badly.
“Princess Celestia! I didn’t expect to see you here!” someone called out, trotting over to him. He spun around with much difficulty to face a purple unicorn mare. He gave up and decided to stop halfway. “Did you need something?”
He blanched (which really didn’t matter considering he was starch white). Who was this again? “Oh, yes, I needed a couple of tomes for a… project of mine… er…” She looked familiar enough. He had been briefed on VIPs before he left, however, the only three he bothered to remember were the three princesses, considering they were classified as high-value targets and should have their safety prioritized first and foremost. The rest… not so much. They received the “I’ll use my phone to remember who they were” treatment.
“Princess? Are you okay?”
He racked his mind to try and remember who he was talking to. Well, you miss all the shots you don’t take. Here goes nothing. “...Twiggle Sprinkles?” The name sounds pony enough.
“Twiggle” made a face mixed with both confusion and shock. “Wh… what? Princess, did you forget my name?” She narrowed her eyes in suspicion.
SHIT, YOU MISSED THE TARGET BY A MILE, BRANDT. ABORT. SAVE THIS, DAMNIT. “Haaah… I, uh, that, was just a test! I was just testing you, of course.” Smooth, Brandt. She’s totally going to sound the—
“A test!?” she cried, demeanor immediately flipping. Or not. “Oh no, oh no, oh no! I didn’t study for this!? Is this a verbal or written test!?” She began hyperventilating and rapidly pacing back and forth. She began speaking to herself, however, that muttering had quickly devolved into utter nonsense as she began shooting frenzied glances at him.
“Uh, you can pass if you just tell me your name.” Was it really going to be this easy?
“Is this a trick question? No, that wouldn’t make sense… but what if…?” she whispered, tapping a hoof to her chin. “The princess could always just…”
“It’s not a trick question, just tell me your name.”
“Hm… that could also be a trick to trick me into believing—”
“Name,” he pressed. “What does everyo-erk, everypony call you?”
She paused, her breathing falling into a quiet lull. “I’ve only got one shot at this… I hope it’s right…” she muttered. The unicorn took a deep breath. “Twilight Sparkle!” Once she had announced that, she curled back, praying that she had answered correctly.
“Sure. You pass, Twilight.”
“Yesssss!” Twilight’s eyes glimmered with happiness, looking almost ready to burst. However, she kept that restrained. She seemed to be really proud of her achievement. That was actually kinda cute. Like seeing your little sister boasting about an A+, kind of cute.
“Well, that was nice, but I must be going. I have a schedule to maintain, after all,” Brandt said, trying to end the conversation as fast as he could. Too late did he realize that he spoke in his normal voice.
But Twilight smiled anyway, oblivious to the sudden shift in her “mentor’s” voice. “I understand perfectly, princess! I hope you have a good day!”
As he began noisily walking away, Twilight turned back around.
“Wait,” she said. Brandt froze. “You’re heading to the Forbidden Section?”
Right, of course, that’s a thing. “Yes…?” Does it have a password I wonder? Probably.
“Oh! Well, if you need us, I can have the girls assembled in two minutes!” she said proudly. “Believe me, we practiced!”
“Yes, of course, thank you again, Twilight.” He watched her trot away and sit by a stack of books, dutifully putting them away. He tilted his head. “Twilight.”
“Yes?” Her ears perked up. “Could I be of help, perhaps? I’ve helped to categorize half of the archives, and I would love to help with any project you have! I, um, also haven’t broken your trust regarding some of the stuff in the Forbidden Section, I’ve stayed away from the books you told me not to touch.”
“I have another test for you.”
“O-Oh,” she squeaked. “Wh-what is it?”
“Could you recite the password for the Forbidden Section?”