Thweet Geniuth

by JMac

Disaster!

                   
“Twist, aren’t you gonna eat?” asked Scootaloo.
                    
The girls had been under punishment for some time now, with no sign of “indefinitely” ever having a definite end.  Cheerilee had taken some mercy on them, and allowed them to sit together at lunch and talk.  She’d even allowed Twist to bring a bag lunch from home and join them.
                    
Twist pushed her sandwich towards Scootaloo.  “No, you take it, Scoot.  I don’t have any appetite.”
                    
“Hmmm, Bon Bon’s special flower petal relish!” cried Scootaloo, leaping on the sandwich.  “Your loss, Twist.”
                   
“You have been a nervous wreck ever since you learned of my suspicions,” said Quiz.  “More than anything else, I regret that I have upset you so, Twist.  Would it help if I pointed out that I never heard the show producers mention you by name?”
                    
“Yeah, right,” said Scootaloo, wiping her mouth.  “They might have been talking about some other filly with a speech impediment who’s competing against the Grand Chef.”
                    
Everypony glared at Scootaloo, who cried “What?” through a mouthful of Twist’s lunch.
                    
“Everypony who might have conthidered going to Manehattan to thee me cook is now buthy that night,” said Twist, sadly.  “Pinky Pie has been athked to judge a pathstry contetst.  Mith Cheerilee hath an education theminar.   The Cake family has a big catering contract.  Bon Bon wath invited to a food thshow.   Lyra is going to cover that for her, even though it may cotht Bon Bon buthiness to mith it.   Doethn’t anypony elth think thith ith thuthpithious?”
                    
“My mom does,” said Dinky, “She delivered all those notices.  I think she’s starting to feel a little used.”
                    
“I can’t believe Twilight hathn’t come around, Quiz,” said Twist.  “How can thshe think you made it all thith up?  That would require you…um…”
                    
“’To have an imagination’?” Scootaloo finished for her.  “What?”
                    
“I have a perfectly good imagination,” protested Quiz.  “However, it is much like my sense of humor.  It is… what is the word I want?”
                    
“Different?” suggested Apple Bloom.
                    
“Unique?” offered Sweetie Belle.
                    
“Imperceptible,” said Scootaloo.  “What?”
                    
“Despite the slight against my imagination, I must say I am pleased to hear you use a word from our vocabulary list correctly, Scootaloo,” said Quiz.
                    
“What can I say?  As a tutor, you’re the best, Quiz,” said Scootaloo.  “Just don’t ask me to spell it.”
                    
“At any rate, I feel you are being unfair to Miss Twilight, her doubts are reasonable,” said Quiz.  “No pony besides myself, including all of you, has heard anything.  Aside from practice, I have only cast the Useful Amplifier spell twice; I can understand why Miss Twilight believes I have misunderstood what I have heard.  Also, Miss Twilight is bothered to distraction by our spell experiments.  She fears that if she is not firm enough with me then in a moment of poor judgment I will cause Sweetie Belle to disappear in a puff of smoke.  Or grow tentacles.  Or even…”
                    
“Enough, we get it!” cried Sweetie Belle.  “Let’s just hope Twilight never finds out what we really did out on the barrens.  That would lead to a freak out of epic proportions.”
                    
“I gotta get home,” said Twist, leaving her untouched meal on the table.  Scootaloo snatched up a banana and began to eat it.  “Will I see you tonight?”
                   
“Wouldn’t miss it, Chef,” said Apple Bloom.  The other fillies heartily agreed.
                    
“Great,” said Twist, cheering up slightly.  “You guyths are almost all the thuport I have left.”

            
While they weren’t allowed to remodel Bon Bon’s kitchen, the fillies did make a few modifications.  Commonly used supplies were stacked on a shelf in the back right corner, to simulate the location of pantry in the Coliseum’s kitchen.  A card table stood in for the missing center counter.  Bon Bon had objected strongly to this, as the rickety table was dangerous in a busy kitchen.  It was so light weight the slightest jar would move it.  Twist had insisted; the center counter was where she had to assemble her sugar showpiece.  In the end they compromised, the card table was weighted down with two sacks of sugar in the hope that this would keep it still.
                    
“Ok, tonight we will be working on my thugar thowpieth,” began Twist.  “I’ve practithed on all of the partths, but thith will be the firtht time I’m putting them all together.”
                    
“What do you need from us, Chef?” asked Apple Bloom.
                    
“Chef!  I’ll never get over hearing that,” laughed Twist.  “Anyway, Apple Bloom, you and Bon Bon thstart melting thugar.  I’m going to need a lot of it!  I’ll thupervith the temperature, and the coloring.”
                    
“Right, Chef!”
                    
“Quiz, Scootaloo, you are my thstokers.  Keep the ovens loaded with wood, and good and hot.”
                    
“Right, Chef!” said Scootaloo, without hesitation.  Quiz was more cautious; first she hefted a stick of fire wood, and when it proved lighter than a miner’s pick axe she agreed that she could do the task.  Then she opened the oven door, and recoiled.
                    
“Quiz, are you okay?” asked Sweetie Belle.
                    
“Oh, yes, I was merely startled by the heat,” said Quiz.  “Yes, I am ready, Chef.”
                    
“Good, now Thweetie Belle…”
                    
“I know, stay out of the kitchen,” grumbled Sweetie Belle.  “Set fire to one refrigerator and it gets held against you forever,”
                    
“It wathn’t the fridge, it wath the freezer,” said Twist.  “And we thtill don’t  know how you got the ice cream to ignite.”
                    
“Fine,” said Sweetie Belle, pouting.  “But I also have to keep shouting questions at you from the door way.  Try to imagine I’m sticking a microphone in your face.”
                    
“Ith that really nethethary, Sweetie Belle?”
                    
“Mr. Oates is going to do that to you during the contest,” said Sweetie Belle.  “You have to show poise under pressure.”
                    
“Oh, alright,” said Twist, indignantly.   “But it itn’t ath if anyone will catch me picking my nose!  I don’t do that.  Not in my kitchen.”

                    
Everything went well.  Twist even discovered that she enjoyed explaining her work to faux floor reporter Sweetie Belle.  In fact the whole exercise was therapeutic for Twist.  While worrying about the contest she was a miserable, nervous mess.  Once she began cooking all that disappeared.  Once in her kitchen, Twist was in the zone.
                    
In fact, the only one not having fun was Quiz.
                    
“Quiz, you look awful!” cried an alarmed Sweetie Belle.  Quiz was drenched in sweat, and even through her grey coat you could see that she was flushed scarlet.
                    
“I seem to be feeling the heat to a surprising degree,” said Quiz.  “But I will be fine.”
                   
“Girls, get those windows open!” ordered Bon Bon.
                   
“We’re on it,” called Scootaloo.  But though they tried with all their might, neither she nor Apple Bloom could get the windows to budge.
                    
“Those stupid painters!” grumbled Bon Bon.  “I told them not to paint inside the sills!  They went and glued the windows shut!”
                    
“I’m tho thorry I didn’t notice, Quiz,” said Twist.  “The heat never botherth me, anymore.  You go and take a break, Quiz, and cool down.”
                    
“Yes, Chef,” said Quiz, levitating another piece of fire wood.  “I will take a break… in a moment.”
                    
They were interrupted by a delivery of supplies, which led to a confrontation between Bon Bon and the delivery stallion.
                    
“You can’t just leave this here!” demanded Bon Bon, indicating the overladen pallet.  “You’re blocking my back door!”
                    
“Look, Lady, we just drop the stuff off.  Putting it away is your problem.”
                    
“You Are Blocking My Back Door!” yelled Bon Bon.  “This is not a safe situation!”
                    
“Boss, we aren’t that far behind schedule,” said Derpy.  “We could take a little time and help them…”
                    
“Oh, yeah?” said the delivery stallion.  “And who is the crew foreman, whose word goes?”
                    
“Um, that would be you, Boss,” said Derpy.
                    
“And who is the temp worker, who ought to keep the helpful suggestions to herself?”
                    
“Um, that would be me, Boss?”
                    
“Right!  So, Lady, we are runnin’ late, so if you’ll excuse us…”
                    
They were interrupted by a rhythmic clanging.
                    
Quiz was trying to load another piece of fire wood, but she kept missing and hitting the side of the stove.  “I... seem… to be having… difficulty,” gasped Quiz.  “The stove… keeps… moving…”
                    
“Quizzical Greystone, you are dizzy from the heat!  Out of this kitchen this instant!  Out!  OUT!”  Bon Bon shrieked, “Lyra, we have a casualty!”
                    
“I hear you, Bon Bon,” said Lyra, coming to guide Quiz gently away.  She sat Quiz near an open window in the front room, and went to get a damp cloth to put over Quiz’s brow.
                    
“I do not understand,” muttered Quiz.  “I was worked as a slave by the diamond dogs, and did not suffer so.”
                    
“Down, in the warrens, where it’s cool,” said Lyra.  “And you grew up in the mountains above Canterlot, where even the summers are cool.  Quiz, you are heat sensitive, you just never knew it.”
                    
The back door slammed shut.  The delivery crew had taken advantage of the distraction to escape Bon Bon’s wrath.
                    
“Oh, no you don’t!” yelled Bon Bon.  “You come back here!”
                    
“I’ll get them,” said Scootaloo.  Unfortunately, the quickest way was right over the pallet of supplies, which Scootaloo tried the clear in one bound.  She failed, and discovered just how poorly balanced the stack was.  Fifty pound sacks of sugar, huge cases of chocolate and other supplies tumbled and wedged up hard against the doorway.
                    
“I’ll help,” said Twist.  She then promptly turned and slammed hard into the card table, which slid into a wall then collapsed.  The heavily laden table caught on a light switch box, and sheared it off, tearing it loose from its wires.  There was a spark, then a pop, and the circuit breakers tripped.  The whole building was plunged into darkness.
                    
“Darn it,” said Bon Bon.  “We were going to have the electricians in next week.”
                    
“I got this!” cried Sweetie Belle, who was delighted to be able to contribute.  The sweet shop’s front room had three small tables with decorative candles.  Sweetie Belle went to one of them and sang to the candle.
                    
“Ah ah ah ah,” An ember formed on the end of the wick, sputtered, and went out.
                    
“Dumb candle,” said Sweetie Belle.  She tried the spell again, this time singing with more volume.  A lot more volume.
                    
Every candle in the room erupted.  This included the spares, stored in a cardboard box on a shelf by a window.  The curtains were swiftly blazing.  Pools of tallow on the tables caught fire, and soon so did the table cloths.  The fire divided the room in half.  On one side, Lyra and Sweetie Belle escaped out the front door.
                    
Caught on the other side, Quiz retreated back into the kitchen.
                    
At the kitchen door Quiz erected a protective barrier.  This is perhaps Quiz’s best spell, and it was more than a match for any fire.  So long as she held it the flames and the heat could not reach the kitchen.
                    
That did not mean it wasn’t getting hot.
                    
Fumbling around in the dark, the ponies could not bank the roaring fires in the ovens.  With the power out the exhaust fans were all off.  The temperature in the kitchen rose dramatically.
                    
“Quiz, are you okay?” called Twist.
                    
“I will be fine,” said Quiz.
                    
Scootaloo and Bon Bon tried to clear a way to the door, but in the cramped space there really wasn’t enough room to just shove things to the side, and there wasn’t enough time to haul it all further into the kitchen and out of the way.  Bon Bon tried anyway, dragging fifty pound sacks with her teeth.  Scootaloo began just tossing cartons aside, which didn’t really help.
                    
The pale light of Quiz’s magic cast strange shadows around the room.  This added to the confusion more than provided any light.
                   
Twist had found an oven mitt, and was moving pans of molten sugar off the burners, but she couldn’t find them all in the dark, and the room filled with caramel  scented smoke as the sugar burned.
                    
Apple Bloom braced herself for a try at bucking out a window.  The kitchen windows looked out on an unlit alley and no light came from outside.  Apple Bloom could barely make them out in the dark.  She made a leap for it anyway.  She landed on the shelf, which promptly broke off the wall.
                    
There was a pounding at the back door.  “Hello?  I think the lock’s broken,” It was Derpy.  “The fire brigade is coming; will you be Ok a little longer?”
                    
“Mom!” yelled Dinky.  “We’re alright as long as Quiz holds on!  But we gotta get Quiz out of here!”
                    
“I will hold on as long as necessary,” said Quiz.  “I will be fine.”
                    
The pounding became frantic.  Derpy was trying to smash the door at the hinges.  The wood wasn’t giving.
                    
Outside, Sweetie Belle was standing against the side wall of the kitchen, trembling.  This was so scary the first time I did it, she thought, I didn’t want to ever do this again.  Well, here goes.  Sweetie Belle began to sing with everything she was worth.
                    
“I Want To Walk Through This Wall!  I WANT TO WALK THROUGH THIS WALL…!!!”
                    
The wall glowed bright blue.
                    
“Follow the sound of my voice!” sang Sweetie Belle.  “Come with me if you want to escape!”
                    
Bon Bon didn’t have to be told twice.  “Come on, Girls, we are leaving!”  She began herding the fillies through the glowing wall.  Bon Bon didn’t question how it was possible that they were being saved, she just realized that they had a way out and she wasn’t going to waste this chance.  But once outside Bon Bon realized she had missed one, a filly whose dark coat faded into the shadows cast by her own spell.
                    
Bon Bon turned back and screamed, “Quizzical Greystone, you come here right now!”
                    
There was a tremendous splash.  Twilight Sparkle had arrived with other ponies who were organizing a bucket brigade.  Twilight had been levitating two dozen pails of water, and she was so shocked to see the fillies pass through the kitchen wall that she dropped everything.
                    
Sweetie Belle couldn’t hold the spell any longer and the wall became solid again.  Bon Bon leapt aside almost in time.  She squealed in pain as she lost the tip of her tail.
                    
“Sweetie Belle, how did you… what did you… who taught you…?” stammered Twilight.  Then a much more important question occurred to her.  “Where’s Quiz?!”
                    
“Still holding back the fire at the kitchen door,” said Sweetie Belle.  She was sitting on the ground, trying to catch her breath, but Sweetie Belle stood and declared, “I’ll go get her.”
                   
“No!” ordered Twilight.  “You stay here.  I’ll get Quiz.”
                    
Twilight disappeared in a flash.

                    
With a pop Twilight reappeared, standing next to her young assistant.  “Quiz, we have to go.  Now.”
                    
“I can hold on,” said Quiz.  “I will hold on as long as necessary.”
                    
“Quiz, drop your protection spell, it’s interfering with my teleport.”
                    
“I must hold the spell,” said Quiz.  “I cannot let my friends down.”
                    
She’d delirious, thought Twilight.  “Quiz everypony is safe.  Drop you spell so we can go.”
                    
“I must hold the spell, for my friends,” said Quiz.  “I will be fine.”
                    
Twilight thought she was going to have slap sense into Quiz.  Then she thought of a better idea.
                    
"Quickly, Quiz, I need a copy of volume 6 of the Encyclopedia of Beasts.”
                    
Quiz reacted reflexively.  “Certainly, Miss Twilight,” said Quiz, who dropped the protection spell in order to summon the requested book.
                    
Twilight grabbed Quiz, and they disappeared.

                    
The cool night air struck Quiz like a blow, and she stood in the street blinking, trying to discern where she was and what had just been happening.  Finally, she noticed Twilight standing beside her.
                    
“Miss Twilight, you came for me,” said Quiz.
                    
“Yes, Quiz,” said Twilight.
                    
“Of course,” said Quiz.  “I should have expected nothing else.”
                    
Quiz’s legs slowly folded under her, and she slipped quietly to the ground, unconscious.