Stopping at the door, Time Turner paused. He had raised his hoof to knock on the place where the knocker had once been, it having long ago absconded or been forcibly reallocated by youths—and he noted that the paint was fading and peeling in places. In the places it was not, it was clear that it had been badly re-applied by a roller. A roller that, somehow, had left pony-shaped impressions where the paint had not managed to reach.
He sighed, and tapped on the door. It slowly opened, and Time Turner immediately found a pair of golden eyes staring at him—or, rather, to either side of him.
“Doctor!” she said. She lifted a small plate. “Muffin?”
“I’m not actually...” He smiled and sighed. “Of course, Derpy, I’d love a muffin.”
He took the pastry and Derpy seemed pleased. She trotted into the house and he followed, unwrapping the muffin and taking a bite. He chewed it for a moment, then frowned. “Well...that’s a flavor.”
“They’re boysenberry!”
Time Turner frowned. “That doesn’t taste like boysenberry...” He shrugged, though, and took a bite. Although unusual, it was not bad—just somewhat unexpected.
“I’m sorry it’s such a mess in here!” called Derpy. “I spent the whole morning giving muffins to everyone I love and care about in town! I saved yours for last so it would be extra warm!”
Time Turner smiled, eating the muffin and looking into Derpy’s kitchen. A muskmelon sat on the counter surrounded by bent spoons, apparently from a futile effort to open it, and the refrigerator was leaking an unexpected fluid that looked curiously like several flavors of ice-cream. Trixie was licking up the mess and, upon seeing Time Turner, immediately teleported elsewhere.
“Derpy, did you put the ice cream in the refrigerator again?”
“Well, yes, silly!” she said, smiling from around a corner. “I needed to keep it cold!”
“I think it may have melted.”
Derpy stared at the liquid. “Huh,” she said, seeming utterly flummoxed. “So...the oven next time? But that’s where I store my old newspapers and various solvents...”
“You...wait, what?”
“And I bought this thing, too,” she pointed at a dishwasher. “From those nice twins. They said I didn’t even have to pay, they’d just give me the money if I had interest, and boy was I interested!” She paused, then sighed, kicking it open as it promptly hemorrhaged bubbles and mechanical parts—and her laundry. “But I just don’t know what went wrong...”
“Well, you really shouldn’t use dish soap in it...”
Derpy looked up at him, and for a moment, he caught a glimmer of sadness in her gaze. “I can’t tell which is which anymore,” she admitted, quietly.
“Oh. I’m sorry, I—”
Her mood immediately improved. “But don’t worry, I’ll get this cleaned up before Trixie finds it!” She immediately pulled out an industrial sized container of bleach from under her sink, opened it with her teeth, and then rummaged some more for a gigantic bottle of Princess Brand ammonia. She uncapped it and lifted it in her teeth, preparing to mix the two. “Two will make it clean twice as fast...”
“Now now now,” said Time Turner, nearly in a panic, pulling away the bleach as Derpy covered the floor in ammonia—and promptly slipped in it, spilling it all over herself.
“Derpy!”
She coughed. “Great, now I smell like Fluttershy’s house...”
Derpy picked herself up, shaking off the fluid and coughing.
“I’ll get you a towel.”
“I don’t have any.”
“You don’t...have any towels?”
She lowered her head. “I...ran out of money. For food. And I thought cotton candy was...you know...”
“Again?”
She nodded solemnly.
Time Turner smiled. “That’s okay, I’m sure. From a medical standpoint, probably not, but hey! How about that mail?”
Derpy’s sadness suddenly evaporated. “The MAIL!” she cried, running to the pile. “I have so much mail today! Thank you so much for helping me read it all!”
“Not a problem at all.” Time Turner held out his hoof and Derpy placed the pile of envelopes into it with her mouth.
“I used to be able to read,” she said, again with a hint of sadness. “Back when I was a doctor too. Before the accident.”
“I know, Derpy.” Time Turner flipped through the letters, his expression faltering. “Derpy,” he said, looking up, his gaze suddenly filled with concern. “There are a lot of overdue bills here.” He stopped at one, his heart sinking. “They’re foreclosing on your house.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“Have you been paying your mortgage?”
“I don’t know what that is.”
Time Turner opened the envelope and looked through it quickly. Her debt was astronomical, and it was apparent her account had been delinquent for some time.
“Sparkler used to do the money things,” said Derpy, her mirth suddenly fading. “But now she has her big job in the Crystal Empire working for Shining Armor, and Dinky’s at school in Canterlot, and I...I don’t know what all the big numbers mean. But that paper sure looks scary.”
“We may be able to talk to the mayor later,” lied Time Turner. “I mean, you have a job at the post office.”
“Yes. And I get paid in experience.”
“And money.”
“No. Just experience.”
Time Turner stared at her. The situation seemed to have gotten far worse than he expected.
He flipped through the stack of bills. There were a great many of them, and the situation only seemed more and more economically dire—and he doubted Derpy had any real concept of how money worked.
“Oh, here’s one that’s not so...extreme,” he said, stopping at an official looking envelope and moving to open it with his teeth. “From the Ponyville General Hospital Institute of Neurology.”
“No,” snapped Derpy.
Time Turner looked up from the letter inside. “They say you’re a perfect candidate, that the technology has had a sizable improvement—”
“I said ‘no’, Doc. I’m not doing it. It didn’t work the last time and doctors are scary.”
Time Turner bit his lip, but he understood that she would not budge on the issue. He put the letter from the Institute into the pile of bills—revealing one last one, hoof-addressed with a quill. Or, rather, inscribed with delicate horn-scribed cursive.
“Oh,” he said, wiping his brow, suddenly finding the room oddly warm. “This one is from Dinky.”
“Dinky!” Derpy suddenly perked up. “Ooh! Ooh! Read that one! Read that one!”
Time Turner opened the letter and cleared his throat. “Dear mom,” he read, “Everything is fine here. The curriculum is adequate. I am learning a lot of things but you would not understand any of them so there isn’t really a point in describing them. Suffice it to say, magic. I’m learning magic. The spring break is coming next week.”
“Spring break!” cried Derpy, nearly squealing. “I didn’t know it was coming so fast! My little girl will be back, and we can do the Winter Wrap Up ceremony, just like we used to do when she was little...well, littler! And we can have hot cocoa, and muffins, and talk to the daffodils...”
Time Turner looked up. He had already read the next sentences.
“What?”
“I will be remaining at school to get a head-start on the next semester’s materials. It will be easier to focus when no one is around to bother me. I know you have a hard time using the train, so this will help keep you from getting stressed or lost again. Thank you Time Turner for reading my letter. Love, Dinkamena Regina Doo.”
“Oh.” Derpy sat down, seeming absolutely dejected.
“Derpy...”
“No, no, it’s fine, she needs to work on her studies. I did the same thing, when I was her age...when I was smart. I just...” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hoof. “I should be cleaning. If Trixie finds a spill she’ll never leave, and I can’t afford to keep feeding her.”
“Derpy, I...” Time Turner groaned, suddenly feeling strangely dizzy. He grasped the counter, and as he did, a bottle rattled from the vibration. Absently and through the rising sickness in his stomach, he looked at it—and then grasped it suddenly, his eyes wide.
“Derpy! What is this?!”
“What?” Derpy squinted at it. “Oh. That’s the boysenberry extract I put in all today’s muffins.”
“Derpy, this isn’t boysenberry extract! This is poisonberry extract!”
“What?”
Time Turner did not have a chance to answer. He promptly fell to the ground, convulsing and foaming at the mouth. Derpy stared in horror at what was happening, not knowing what to do.
“Oh no!” she cried. “Not again!”