//------------------------------// // Chapter 11: Show and Tell // Story: MIA // by Gravitys Rainboom //------------------------------// Chapter 11: Show and Tell “Good morning class! Did you have a good weekend?” A series of tired groans and half-hearted replies echoed through the classroom. It was Monday: The bane of students everywhere. Not five minutes earlier a bell rang, and a couple dozen fillies and colts all marched in a funeral-like procession through the door of the schoolhouse and into the classroom. Finding their desks, they sat down and waited for Miss Cheerilee to arrive. A certain orange pegasus took this opportunity to contemplate burning down the school and vying for her arson cutie-mark. Alas, such a dream was foolhardy, so all that awaited this filly was a day of elementary level math problems and literature assignments. Truly, Monday was a cruel and unforgiving mistress. Yet for some reason, the fact that she could not practice her skills in pyrotechnics did not particularly bother this orange filly that day, as it would have done almost every other Monday. Why was this? The reason was that this very Monday, this pegasus was going to hand in her recently completed project along with her friends; a project which contained nothing less than the first interview of an extraterrestrial being in history. Understandably, the filly was quaking with excitement. Once the students had all found their seats and the commotion began to die down, Miss Cheerilee walked through the door and greeted her class. “Good morning, class!” she gushed, practically dripping with joy. It quickly became apparent to the students that Miss Cheerilee was happier than usual; not an easy feat considering her name was essentially ‘cheer.’ “How was your weekend? Did you all rest up?” She was answered with nods and content murmurs. “Good! You’re going to need all the rest you can get. This week we’re starting fractions!” As if on cue, the children all groaned simultaneously. “Oh I know,” nodded the teacher sympathetically. “But don’t worry, I promise that it’s easier than you think. Now before we get started, why don’t you come up here and leave your homework on my desk.” Scootaloo practically leapt from her chair, earning a few puzzled glances from her classmates, and scrambled up to Miss Cheerilee’s desk as fast as she could. The purple mare looked at the orange filly with a bemused expression, but Scootaloo didn’t notice. Carefully placing her interview on the desk, the filly’s wings buzzed excitedly as she sat back down. She looked around the room and gave Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom an encouraging smile, which they returned. Turning around, Scootaloo gave Featherweight a similar self-assured smirk. The white pegasus nodded meekly and grinned. Scootaloo could see that a blush was quickly spreading across his cheeks. He’s cute when he blushes, she thought absentmindedly. When she realized what she just thought, her own face heated up and she tried desperately to avoid eye contact with the petit colt. As she bit her lip in embarrassment, Scootaloo could have sworn that she heard muffled snickers coming from where Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom were sitting. The rest of the day went on like any other Monday. Miss Cheerilee stood at the front of the class for a few minutes trying to explain the concept of fractions, before handing out some practice questions and walking around the class trying to help where she could. Eventually she sat at her desk and began going over the homework while the children worked on their problems. Scootaloo couldn’t help but feel like it was all a little anticlimactic. She continued glancing over to the purple school teacher, trying to discern any sort of emotion from her. Apart from the occasional frown or quirked eyebrow however, Miss Cheerilee kept her neutral expression. The orange pegasus couldn’t help but think that Miss Cheerilee would probably make a fantastic poker player. Not that the filly actually knew what poker was exactly, but she was correct nonetheless. Eventually Scootaloo resigned herself to focus on her schoolwork, and to try and forget about the interview with Jorge. This, of course, resulted in the filly becoming lost in her day dreams, as she invariably became almost every school day. A sharp, piercing ringing snapped Scootaloo out of her musings. “Alright class, time for recess,” announced Miss Cheerilee. The relief in the air as the children scrambled for the door was almost palpable, and Scootaloo hopped off her desk and cantered towards the playground with gusto. “Wait just a moment, Scootaloo,” ordered the teacher. “Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, Featherweight, please stay as well.” Scootaloo looked around at her fellow Crusaders and Featherweight in confusion. She could see that they were just as vexed as she was. “I was just correcting your interview assignments.” Scootaloo’s heart skipped a beat. She couldn’t stop the self-assured smirk that quickly spread across her face. However, when Miss Cheerilee looked up from the sheet of paper she was reading, rather than wearing an impressed, almost reverent expression, she looked at them with stern eyes. “I see you all did the assignment together.” Scootaloo’s smile quickly faded. “Is…is that a problem, Miss Cheerilee?” asked Sweetie Belle meekly. “Oh no no no!” assured the teacher hastily. “Quite the contrary, I’m thrilled that you decided to work together. I only wish you had done the actual assignment.” The children shared a confused look. “Uh…what do you mean, Miss?” “What I mean, Featherweight, is that this was not supposed to be a creative writing assignment. As imaginative and well written as your paper was, you were actually supposed to interview someone. That is the whole purpose of primary sources of information.” “But…we did interview someone,” explained Apple Bloom. “We interviewed Jorge. It’s right there on the paper.” Cheerilee’s eyes narrowed. “Young lady, do you really expect me to believe that you actually interviewed that human?” “But we did!” “It’s true,” assured Scootaloo. “Enough,” ordered Miss Cheerilee firmly. “I’m sorry, but I have been extremely lenient with you two lately, especially you, Scootaloo.” The pegasus shrunk a bit at the teacher’s disappointed stare. “I have no choice but to give you an ‘F’ for the assignment and I will be speaking with your parents about this tomorrow.” “But-” “No ‘buts.’” Cheerilee’s eyes softened slightly as she gazed down at the crushed expressions on her students’ faces. “I’m sorry for sounding so harsh, kids. But I don’t have a choice. I can’t give you a passing grade if you just make up the assignment. Now go outside and enjoy your recess.” Featherweight and the Cutie-Mark Crusaders marched out of the schoolhouse with their heads hanging low. “Maybe you could start thinking of things to bring for show and tell tomorrow?” Cheerilee added lamely in an attempt to boost their spirits; unsurprisingly, it didn’t help. “I can’t believe Miss Cheerilee thinks we made up that interview,” muttered Apple Bloom as she and her companions walked through the crowded playground. “That’s so unfair!” whined Sweetie Belle. “We…he…she…ugh, that’s so unfair!” “Well said Sweetie,” deadpanned Apple Bloom, earning an un-amused glance from the unicorn. The group stopped and sat down at an empty corner of the playground, content to wallow in their own self-pity away from everypony else. “Stupid Miss Cheerilee…” grumbled Scootaloo. “I-I’m sure she means well,” offered Featherweight lamely. “She’s a stupid featherbrain!” screeched the orange filly in frustration, causing her friends to gasp in shock. “Scootaloo, don’t say that!” admonished Apple Bloom. Scootaloo winced when she realized what she had just shouted, and hung her head. “Sorry, Apple Bloom. It’s just so…unfair.” “I know, right!?” cried out Sweetie indignantly. “Hey there, losers!” The Cutie-Mark Crusaders and Featherweight turned around to see a pair of fillies behind them. One was light pink, and had a purple mane; while the other was grey with silver hair. The former wore a silver tiara. While in most other circles this, at best, would have been construed as odd or even a tad obnoxious, on the school playground it was enough to make most ponies cringe. Ugh, we do not need this right now, thought Scootaloo with a soft groan. “What do you want, Diamond Tiara?” spat Apple Bloom. “We’re really not in the mood fer this.” “Ugh, why would we want something from a bunch of blank-flanks like you?” “Great, so then you kin leave.” “Actually, we’re just here to apologize,” said Silver Spoon innocently. The yellow earth pony stared at them with suspicion. “Really?” “It’s true,” answered Diamond Tiara, her voice becoming surprisingly gentle. “We heard what happened inside just now…with Miss Cheerilee. We just wanted to say that we’re sorry for what happened.” The Crusaders and Featherweight all glanced at each other in disbelief. ‘Is this really happening?’ their eyes seemed to ask. “Really?” repeated Apple Bloom. “Yeah, I mean, it’s bad enough that you’re blank-flanked, but now you’re making up imaginary friends because you’re too stupid to interview anypony? That’s just sad,” said Silver Spoon with a shake of her head. “Hey!” “We can’t really blame you for that though,” said Diamond Tiara diplomatically. “I mean, who would actually want to be near a group of blank-flanks anyways, let alone get interviewed by them?” “I-I’m n-not a blank-flank,” pointed out Featherweight meekly. Diamond Tiara narrowed her eyes and snorted when she heard Featherweight. “Well you might as well be. What kind of Cutie-Mark is a feather?” she cackled cruelly. “Honestly, I’d even rather be blank-flanked than have something so stupid for a cutie-mark.” Featherweight shrunk under the pink filly’s jeers. “I mean, a feather? Heck, I bet it’s not even real. I bet you just plucked one from those stubby little wings of yours, and glued it to your flank. Come on, there’s no way somepony could be lame enough to-” The loathsome little filly was cut off when an orange blur lunged at her with enough force to knock her down. Everypony froze as the gawked at the pink pony. “SHUT UP, DIAMOND TIARA!” snarled the pegasus as she pinned Diamond Tiara. “Don’t you dare talk about Featherweight like that again!” The restrained filly trembled under Scootaloo’s hooves, her eyes wide and fearful, and her snout bleeding slightly from the force of Scootaloo’s tackle. “If you ever make fun of his cutie-mark every again, I’ll make sure the next thing you pluck out of your nose next time you’re picking it is your tiara!” Scootaloo slowly got off the Diamond Tiara, who shakily picked herself off the ground. Her once pristine coat was now matted with dirt, and her tiara rested askew on her tangled mane. “Come on Diamond, let’s get out of here! These blank flanks are crazy!” cried Silver Spoon as she dragged her shocked friend away. “We’re telling Miss Cheerilee!” “Jerks,” snorted Scootaloo as she watched her aggravators scurry away. She turned around to the greeting of wide eyes and unhinged jaws. “What?” “W-wow Scootaloo… Ah’ve never seen you that mad.” “Did you really have to do that?” asked Sweetie Belle. “They were being jerks!” cried out Scootaloo indignantly. “They’ve always been jerks, but you never tackled them before. Why’d you get so darned upset this time?” The pegasus’ eyes wandered over to Featherweight, who looked back at her with a dreamy look on his face, and a single thought running through his noggin: She’s cute when she’s mad. Scootaloo quickly averted her gaze as her face began to heat up. “Oh…you know…reasons…” Apple Bloom noticed the exchange, and rolled her eye with a scoff. “Well now you’re gonna get in trouble! Miss Cheerilee’s already mad at us.” “I’m sorry, okay! It’s just that what they said really got to me. Plus it’s not like I was in a good mood considering she thinks we made the whole interview the Jorge up.” Apple Bloom’s body sagged along with her bow; her hoof idly scuffling the floor. “Oh…right…ah forgot ‘bout that.” Following the aspiring apple farmer’s example, the others all plopped their rears on the ground and began taking a great interest in the ground with tired eyes. “What do we do now?” asked Sweetie Belle helplessly. “Maybe we could try talking to Miss Cheerilee again?” offered Featherweight. The others shook their head disconsolately. “Then what do we do?” “Ah don’t know,” sighed Apple Bloom. “Ah’m too depressed tah do anythang now.” She’s right, thought Scootaloo dejectedly. While tackling Diamond Tiara had given her a fleeting feeling of triumph, it didn’t make up the greater disappointment bestowed upon them by their teacher. Maybe we should just listen to Miss Cheerilee and try coming up with something to bring to show and tell. It’s not like I need to get into any more troub- The idea which then rammed itself into Scootaloo’s mind did so with the force and subtlety of a freight train. Had the pegasus’ eyelids widened any further, they would have run the risk of tearing and allowing her eyeballs to pop out of her sockets. The two other Crusaders and Featherweight gleaned that something was amiss with their companion when her lips spread into a euphoric grin. “Uh…Scoots…why are you smilin’ like that?” “Cuz I think I just figured out a way to fix everything.” “No.” “Pleeeeeaaaaaaaaase!” “No.” “Come ooooon!” “No.” “Just…I…Just…come oooooon!” “No.” “Pretty pleeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaase!” “If I said ‘no’ the first eighty times, literally eighty times, then what makes you think I’m ever going to say anything different?” “Because we’re annnnooooooyiiiiing!” “Girls, leave him alone!” “But we need his heeeeeelp.” After Scootaloo had explained her plan to the rest of the group, the CMC and Featherweight spent the rest of their recess praising the filly for her genius. The bell rang soon afterward, and the children hastily made their way back into the schoolhouse, where Miss Cheerilee was waiting for them, particularly Scootaloo. The orange pegasus received a scolding the likes of which were rarely seen in Ponyville’s schoolhouse. Diamond Tiara would have looked upon the punished filly smugly had she not been too busy being terrified by Miss Cheerilee along with everypony else to do so. No one had ever seen the normally sweet-as-honey schoolteacher so enraged, but they were sure not to forget it. After receiving a verbal lashing and assurances that her parents would be duly notified of her behavior, the rest of the day had passed fairly normally for the junior speedster; except, of course, for having to stay after class to write, ‘I will not hurt other ponies,’ a hundred times on the board. Once she was done with her tedious task, she quickly met up with her fellow Crusaders and Featherweight, and they went to face their destiny! Annoyingly enough, their destiny was being rather evasive. After hours of searching they found it at Sweet Apple Acres. “Where do you want these, Applejack?” asked Jorge, airily gesturing to the two dozen two-by-fours he hefted on his shoulders. “Just over there by the foundation. Thanks again fer helpin’ with this here barn by the way.” The Spartan shrugged. “It’s no problem. Hell, it gets me out of that house.” “It’s just… ya’know… after what ah said the other day…” Applejack was cut off as Jorge waved his hand dismissively. “We went over this, Applejack. It’s water under the bridge. I was being a bit of an arse myself.” “Yeah well…thanks anyways.” Jorge had arrived to Sweet Apple Acres early that morning. Sleep had eluded him the night before as images of fire and blood once again plagued his dreams, and he found that pacing around the house only brought his mind back to his burning universe. Even the dozens of books that the Princess had provided held no sanctuary from the nightmares. Needing to keep his mind occupied, he decided to head back to Sweet Apple Acres to see if Applejack still needed help with the barn. Despite their recent reconciliation, the mare was at first wary of having the Spartan work for her. But Jorge had insisted, both as atonement and as a way to keep himself entertained. He quickly found that the manual labor was more than enough of a distraction. Now he was making his way to a rusty old toolbox while Applejack looked over her blueprints for the new barn. The Cutie-Mark Crusaders meanwhile continued trailing after the Spartan wherever he went, as they had since they arrived at the farm half an hour before. “Pleeeeeeaaaaase!” whined Sweetie Belle once again. She was a master at annoying people into getting what she wanted when she so chose; it was a trait that ran in the family, perfected by her elder sister when she was but a wee filly growing up in Trottingham. But unbeknownst to the unicorn, Jorge had spent the last few years of his service in the presence of a fellow Spartan called Emile, and thus was well trained in ignoring nuisances; even Rarity would have found it a challenge to whine Jorge into submission. Jorge sighed and stopped dead in his tracks, causing the CMC to bump into his leg. Heh, az sose öregedik meg, thought the soldier as his shields glowed. “Look girls,” he began as he knelt. “I already explained why this was a bad idea. The townsfolk have just started getting used to me, and barely at that. The last thing I need is them thinking I’m putting their children at risk.” “We swear nothin’ bad’ll happen,” assured Apple Bloom vehemently. “And ah’m sure they’ll love you. We did!” “That was different.” “How’dya figure?” “Because you came looking for me.” “Please, Jorge,” begged Scootaloo. “We need you! Without your help we’re going to…” she glanced nervously towards Applejack. “We’re going to fail that project,” she said in a harsh whisper. “Miss Cheerilee doesn’t believe that we actually interviewed you. She thinks we made the whole thing up!” “Can’t really say I blame her,” muttered the Spartan. “Please Jorge, we’re beggin’ here!” “Maybe…maybe this’ll be a chance to get ponies used to you?” offered Sweetie. “We don’t know what else to do, we need your help.” She and the other two Crusaders proceeded to assault the human with the CMC special in a last ditch effort to get him to concede. They even added twenty percent more bottom-lip-trembling, just to be safe. Jorge looked down at the begging fillies. Their lips were quivering like they were about to cry, and they occasionally let out a soft squeak akin to that of a wounded puppy. As he was subjected to the horror that was the CMC special, Jorge could feel his chest begin to hollow. He noticed that the more time he spent with the three fillies, the more affected he was by their puppy-dog eyes. Jorge sighed and rubbed his face tiredly. “What do you think, Featherweight?” he asked as he faced the scrawny colt, who had thus far stayed out of the conversation. Featherweight jumped slightly at suddenly having his name called, and rubbed his leg awkwardly. “Well…yeah…we kind of do need your help. But if you can’t…or…you know…don’t think it’s a good idea, you don’t have to.” Jorge stayed silent for a few minutes, staring blankly at the ground. Finally stood up and cracked his neck, causing the ponies to flinch. “Okay, I’ll do it.” The Cutie-Mark Crusaders let out a whooping cheer; even Featherweight could help but sigh in relief. “But you have to promise me that you’ll tell your teacher about this and get the okay from her beforehand,” he ordered sternly. “Understood?” “Yeah sure whatever, just make sure to meet us tomorrow at the square,” replied Scootaloo flippantly. “Come on guys; let’s go get everything set up!” “Scootaloo.” “What?” “Promise. Me.” The filly rolled her eyes. “I promise that we’ll tell Miss Cheerilee you’re coming.” “Good, now you can leave.” Jorge didn’t need to tell them twice. The tiny ponies scurried back down the road as fast as they could, their cheering fading in the distance as they excitedly began brainstorming ideas for tomorrow. Jorge looked as they galloped away with fond eyes before standing up and walking over to Applejack. “I agreed to help them.” The cowpony looked up from her blueprints with a raised eyebrow. “You what now?” “I agreed to help them,” repeated Jorge. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” “No.” Applejack shook her head. “Maybe you shouldn’t go,” she said, in a tone that basically said, ‘don’t go.’ “I know, but I already committed myself. Besides, they did make a good point; the more time I spend in town the more you ponies’ll get used to me, and god knows I could always use a little of that. They won’t be able to deal with the fact that I’m living here if I stay on your farm all day.” “But this ain’t like yesterday, Jorge,” insisted Applejack. “This is a schoolhouse, filled with children.” “If I recall correctly, of the few ponies who weren’t scared stiff-less of me, most of them were kids.” “That…that ain’t what ah meant-” “I know what you mean, Applejack,” interrupted Jorge. “You don’t think I know? Every single building I walked into yesterday ended up damaged in some way, and with someone, mostly me, injured.” “Exactly,” said the cowpony pointedly. “Are you still sure this is a good idea?” “I’m a big boy,” answered Jorge wryly. “I’m not bringing any of my toys this time, and I presume that unicorns at Sweetie’s age can control their magic?” The mare nodded. “Good, then- wait, are there any rabbits there?” “Uh…no?” answered Applejack slowly, while giving Jorge a puzzled look. “Jo. Csak ellenőrzöm,” muttered the human. “Alright then, what’s next?” Applejack’s gaze lingered on the human, before she sighed and gave him a small smile. She gestured towards the rusty toolbox. “Now we start makin’ the supports.” Jorge stood in the center of town, as agreed upon the day before. Leaning casually on a wall, the Spartan observed the square from under his helmet. It was early Tuesday morning, and unlike on Sunday there was no market to crowd the plaza. Still, there was a healthy dose of foot traffic from ponies heading off to work or school. As usual, they were sure to keep a large swath of pavement empty between themselves and Jorge. Yet just like the day before, there were a few ponies who actually neared him. Granted, most of them were shaky as all hell and looked like they were doing it as a sort of ‘I-survived-the-giant-monster-and-lived’ challenge, but considering how they behaved when he first arrived, Jorge decided to chalk it up as a victory. It wasn’t long before a distant buzzing sound tickled his ears. He turned towards one of the entrances to the square to see a large cloud of dust heading directly at him. Tensing his muscles, he quickly relaxed them when he saw that it was Scootaloo… …before doing a double-take when he saw it was Scootaloo. The purple-maned pony was riding atop scooter whilst pulling a red wagon, the kind Jorge used to see in videos about the mid-twentieth century, and was wearing a purple helmet. Using her tiny wings, Scootaloo was literally flapping them fast enough to propel her on her scooter. The pony came to a screeching halt in front of the human, mere inches from his leg. The dust cloud that had formed behind her now swept in with a vengeance, and Jorge could hear Scootaloo cough and hack as it settled. When she was once again able to breathe properly, she greeted him with a beaming smile. “Hi Jorge! Are ya ready to go?” “As ready as I’ll ever be,” grumbled the soldier. “Great. Apple Bloom and Sweetie are waiting for as at the schoolhouse. Just hop on and we’ll head there,” she said nodding to her wagon. There are many words and phrases in the English language that can express disbelief. Honestly, it is quite a versatile language, which can be attributed to why it is so easily spread culturally. That being said, judging from the age of the filly in front of him, Jorge concluded that it would be best not to express his disbelief with the phrase, ‘are you serious?’ (although he was quite tempted to). Instead, the Spartan decided to give her a second to figure it out on her own… …and another second… …and another… Honestly, it was taking far more seconds than the pony should have felt comfortable admitting. Just to speed things up, Jorge decided to cough politely. Scootaloo looked at him in confusion, then back to the wagon. The Spartan noticed that a furiously embarrassed blush scorched her cheeks. “Uh…” “Maybe we should walk?” offered Jorge. “Sure.” The two quickly made their way out of the plaza and towards the schoolhouse. Despite his long strides, Scootaloo had no trouble keeping up with Jorge. In fact, he actually had to pick up the pace to keep up with the filly, who was having trouble keeping from speeding off as fast as she could. Her wings were buzzing so rapidly that they were simply a blur, and she resembled a hummingbird more than anything else. Before long a burgundy structure began poking over the horizon. “Where are they,” groaned Apple Bloom anxiously. “The bell rang five minutes ago! We’re gonna get in trouble.” “I don’t know,” whined Sweetie as she fidgeted nervously. “Look, there they are!” cried Featherweight, pointing down the road. Jorge and Scootaloo walked up to the young ponies waiting outside the classroom, and exchanged quick greetings. “Thanks fer helpin’ us out again, Jorge,” said Apple Bloom earnestly. The Spartan said nothing, instead opting to give the filly a curt nod. He still had his misgivings about this. “Alright, you just wait out here all calm-like, and we’ll call you when it’s our turn, ‘kay?” “Let’s just try to finish this quickly.” Nodding in agreement, the four kids entered the schoolhouse, leaving Jorge on his own outside, and found their seats. Miss Cheerilee gave them a stern look for their tardiness, but decided to just drop it for the sake of time constraints. “Good morning class,” she greeted in her usual bubbly tone. “Good morning, Miss Cheerilee,” droned the class in their usual monotone. “Aw I thought you would me more excited than that,” teased the teacher. “Today’s show and tell after all.” Murmurs of excitement quickly filled the classroom. As cliché as it may have sounded, show and tell was actually a favorite amongst the children of Ponyville; partly because it provided a break from the usual tedium of education, and partly because there was always somepony who brought something interesting to show. “Alrighty then, who would like to go first?” Scootaloo immediately shot her hoof in the air, but was beaten to the punch by a stubby grey leg that rose in front of her. “Okay then, Snips. Come on up.” Scootaloo moaned in annoyance. No big deal, I’ll just go next. I should try that ‘being patient’ malarkey that Miss Cheerilee keeps talking about. Yeah, that’s it, just need to be patient. While she was distracted by her musings, the pudgy grey colt hopped up from her desk and meandered to the front of the class. Looking upon the curious students, Snips cleared his throat and covered his face with his hoof in a mysterious fashion. “Gather round, all of you who… uh… dare gather!” he bellowed in a deepened voice. “I, the great and powerful Snips, brought the most mysterious, most coolest of artif- artufu- things!” Everypony in the class sat up with interest. Even Miss Cheerilee caught herself leaning forward with curiosity. “…yes, it’s the most spectacular…” Everypony leaned forward in excitement. “…the most amazing…” Their eyes widened slightly. “…the most fantabulous thing ever brought!” The suspense in the room was palpable. Everyone in the room was dying to see what Snips had brought. The colt reached into his saddlebag. “I bring to you…” There was a sharp, collective gasp. “…my pet rock, Sheldon!” And suddenly all the air was sucked out of the room, creating a vacuum of equal parts silence and disbelief. Then the room was enveloped in a massive groan. Yet none groaned more than Scootaloo, whose face smacked against her desk in frustration I wonder what Jorge’s doing… Jorge sat on the grass right outside the schoolhouse, his burly frame leaning against one of the walls of the building. As he rested his legs, he could do little more than stare at the picturesque landscape that hosted the town. While quite a view, sightseeing quickly grew dull. He was tempted to browse his music and play a song; he hadn’t listened to any music in a while, but decided against it. He had to wait for the signal from the Cutie-Mark Crusaders. Perhaps a week ago… a lifetime ago… he would have started contemplating the events in his life which brought him to where he was then, but what insight could he glean from doing so? Instead, he took a deep breath, and waited patiently. “The end!” “Huzzahwha-!” Cheerilee was snapped out of her deep slumber by Snail’s finale. Wiping a line of drool that ran down her cheek, she saw that her class was slowly rousing from their own sleep. “Well, Snips,” she yawned, forcing a smile to desperately not appear as though she had been put to sleep but the colt’s presentation. “That was…uh…interesting. And it only took…” she looked up at the clock that hung over the blackboard, and deflated slightly. “…twenty minutes. You can return back to your seat. He would like to go next?” Scootaloo, who had been lazily trying to pry her eyes open, snapped up and shot her hoof in the air once more… …only to lag a few milliseconds behind Snails. “All right then Snails, come on up.” Oh come on! screeched the orange pegasus mentally. The lanky, brownish-green colt grinned and stood up in front of his class. “Golly, ain’t this a coincidence?” he said with a simple, goofy look in his eyes. “I brought my pet rock to show and tell too!” “No way!” cried out his friend in sincere astonishment. The rest of the class was not so enthusiastic… Jorge looked back towards the door to the class room in confusion. He had just heard a loud noise shake the wall he leaned on, as if dozens of voice from inside groaned their frustration at once. Eyeing the building for a few more seconds, he checked his motion scanners and shrugged, before returning to his thoughts. Mi tartja őket ennyi idöre? “Thank you Snails, you can return to your seat. And look, you also took twenty minutes,” said the purple teacher wearily through gritted teeth. “Who would like to go ne-” Before the educator could finish speaking, Scootaloo leapt atop her desk and began bouncing up and down with her hoof extended. “Me! Please pick me!” With her last hop, she landed on the edge of her desk, causing the whole thing to flip forward and force her face to smack the floor. “Ow,” she grumbled as she rubbed her snout. Now I know how Spike feels. She looked up to see her teacher giving her an amused expression. “So…I take it you want to go next,” she deadpanned. Scootaloo smiled sheepishly and nodded vigorously. Nodding to her friends, she stood up and made her way to the front of her class followed by Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Featherweight. Cheerilee gave looked at the four of them in bewilderment. “Uh…what are you three doing?” “We decided to do show and tell together!” chipped Sweetie Belle happily. Miss Cheerilee looked uncertain. “Okay…I suppose that’s acceptable.” Taking a seat at her desk, she gestured for them to go ahead. Scootaloo cleared her throat. “Prepare yourselves!” she began in a deep tone which she tried to lace with as much mysticism as possible. “For the most amazing, spectacular…er…” Much to her disappointment, instead of holding the class captivated with her wonder, they stared at her with bored, jaded expressions. Darn it, Snips! she cursed mentally as she slackened somewhat. Still, she decided to press on with her presentation… “uh…stupendous…er…amazing…” …albeit much less enthusiastically. “…thing you’ll ever see! Fillies and gentlecolts, I present to you, a human!” The room gasped as Scootaloo waved her hoof towards the front door. All eyes were glued anxiously to the door as the class steeled themselves for what was supposed to follow. A second passed. Then another. Then a couple more; by this time the students were looking at each other in puzzlement. “I said, ‘a human!’” repeated Scootaloo, a little anxiety slowly creeping in her voice. “A HUMAN! Guys, where is he!?” “Ah don’t know,” answered Apple Bloom helplessly. She looked just as confused as Scootaloo. Now the group was being subjected to dozens of annoyed stares. Cheerilee sighed and stood up. “I’ve heard enough, you four obviously didn’t do the assignment…again.” The adult sounded concerned rather than disappointed or upset. “I don’t know what is wrong with you four lately, but this obsession with humans is getting out of hand. Please take a seat; I’ll be speaking to you again during recess.” The four children made their way back to their desks dejectedly. Out of the corner of her eye, Scootaloo could see Silver Spoon desperately trying to muffle her laughter and Diamond Tiara grinning wickedly. With a miserable sigh, the orange pegasus sat down and rested her head on her desk. Meanwhile, Cheerilee returned to her own desk. “Now then, would like to-” She was interrupted by a loud knock from the front door. “Who could that be?” She promptly stood up and trotted up towards the entrance, ready to greet whoever was on the other side. When she threw open the door, t’was not a pony that stood on the other end of the threshold, but Jorge. Cheerilee backpedaled from the metal behemoth in horror, allowing him to duck down through the entrance. He scanned the classroom until his eyes fell on Scootaloo, who had perked up significantly. “Sorry about that, just getting my bearings. So, can we get this over with?” “MONSTER!!!” Cheerilee leapt away from Jorge and put herself between him and the students, most of whom were utterly terrified. “Stay b-b-back, I-I won’t let you t-touch them.” Cheerilee’s assertion would have carried more weight had she not squeaked it. Jorge sighed and looked up at the ceiling in frustration. “Scootaloo, I thought you were going to tell her I was coming?” “Sweetie Belle!?” The unicorn rubbed her chin pensively. “Oh...I knew there was something I forgot to do today. That kind of explains why she thought we were lying just now, huh?” That was the first time Sweetie Belle ever saw three ponies and a human simultaneously face-palm/hoof. “Right then, in that case I best be going.” “No wait!” Scootaloo walked up to Miss Cheerilee. “Miss Cheerilee, this is the human we were talking about, he’s our show and tell…thing.” Scootaloo ignored Jorge’s derisive snort and continued. “Can we please please please have him stay and do the presentation?” “Scootaloo, sit back down and stay behind me!” “Ugh, he’s not gonna hurt us.” Why do adults always get stupid when Jorge is around? she thought, forgetting her own reaction to when she first met the human. The filly walked past her teacher and began poking Jorge’s leg. “See?” Cheerilee looked at Scootaloo and Jorge with uncertainty. The human merely shrugged, unfazed by the teacher’s reaction. Really, once you’ve seen one freaked out pony, you’ve kind of seen them all. “I promise not to eat any of your students,” he said sardonically. “I-I-I…uh…okay.” Cheerilee shakily made her way back to her desk, not taking her eyes off the human the whole way. “G-go ahead…uh…yeah.” Scootaloo beamed at Cheerilee, which helped sate the schoolteacher’s anxiety somewhat, and motioned for her friends to come and join her, who were more than happy to oblige. The four kids stood in front of the behemoth while the students were glancing and murmuring nervously at each other. In all fairness, it was a much more subdued reacting than their teacher’s, who was trying desperately to keep her heart from bursting forth from her chest. Scootaloo cleared her throat and waved her hoof dramatically in front of Jorge. “Behold, the mighty human!” Everypony gasped. “Psst, Jorge,” hissed Featherweight. “Take off your helmet.” Despite assurances to Applejack to the contrary, the Spartan was still apprehensive about removing his helmet lest one of few unicorns in the class decided to test the fortitude of their class’ wall. Still, the Spartan complied; if nothing else than to go along with the CMC’s hammy performance, which he had to admit was quite entertaining. Everypony in the class gasped a second time when Jorge revealed his face. Out of the corner of his eye he was able to make out Miss Cheerilee paling as he slipped off his helmet, before examining him with a look of utter fascination. “Ta-Da!” announced Scootaloo. An awkward silence permeated across the room, with the occasional cough. “Scootaloo?” As soon as the Spartan’s deep voice vibrated through the class, dozens of the students (and Miss Cheerilee) winced. “Aren’t you going to say something?” “Uh…this is actually as far as I got in the...you know…planning stages,” she chuckled sheepishly, still holding her introductory pose. “Hey Miss Cheerilee, what should we say ‘bout Jorge fer Show and Tell?” Cheerilee jumped slightly as if released from a trance, and looked at Apple Bloom like her world was falling apart into a fit of madness (which in all fairness was your average Tuesday afternoon in Ponyville). “Uh…w-why d-don’t you h-have…J-J-J-Jorge tell us a little bit about… uh…him? I-I’m sorry, are you m-male?” “Last I checked,” answered the Soldier with a shrug. “That’s a great idea! A’right, Jorge, tell ‘em a little bit ‘bout yerself.” “Like what?” “Ah…ah don’t know, somethun’!” Jorge looked at the children staring at him with eyes the size of platters in front of him. “Hello, my name is Jorge. I-” One of the students, a white earth-pony colt with a brown spot on his face raised his hoof in the air. Despite being smaller than most of the other students, Jorge spotted him easily. “…yes?” “What does pony flesh taste like?” he asked in a squeaky British-sounding accent. Everypony stared at the colt in shock. “Excuse me?” Jorge was absolutely floored by the bluntness of the question. “Well back in Trottingham there’s this story where humans eat ponies, and I was just wondering what we taste like.” Jorge blinked, trying to think of a proper response to the colt’s macabre question. “Human’s don’t eat ponies, stupid,” scoffed a grey pegasus colt with a gelled mane. “Just foals.” “Nuh-uh, in the story they ripped the shoemaker’s wife to shreds and ate her.” Out of the corner of his eye, Jorge could see Cheerilee pale in horror. “Well I don’t know what stupid stories they tell over there, but I heard they only eat foals and babies.” “Thath’s not true, Rumble,” asserted a red-maned filly with a lisp. “Humanths eat grownupths too!” “Humans don’t eat ponies!” cried out Scootaloo in frustration. “Of course they do, Scootaloo,” said a pudgy grey colt sporting a fez and blowing bubbles out of a fake pipe. “They just don’t eat grownups.” The class soon erupted into a massive argument, with one side swearing upon their parent’s graves that humans only preferred the simpler tastes of young ponies, and the other claiming that, like a fine wine, humans were also connoisseurs of a more mature pony flesh. Meanwhile, the CMC were desperately trying to explain the shaved bipeds did not eat pony meat, an opinion which seemed to baffle the other children. Jorge watched the class as they discussed his preference of foal meat with an amused expression. He noticed Miss Cheerilee gawking at the scene in front of them, and decided to move over to the shocked educator. “Hello, I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” He extended his hand in greeting. “My name is Jorge Zero Five Two. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Cheerilee recoiled away from the Spartan when she noticed his close proximity. She looked down at his hand, then at his neutral expression. “Uh…likewise.” She reluctantly gave him her hoof, allowing him to give it a firm shake. “I’m surprised, judging from the welcome you gave me I would have assumed you would be less inclined to talk to me.” Cheerilee gave him a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry. It was just…well I mean…wow! It was a little bit of a shock.” Jorge nodded. “I can imagine.” “Not only that, I heard so much about you that I didn’t know how you would behave. Most ponies said you were a mindless monster…” Cheerilee noticed that the human’s brow wrinkled and his jaw clenched at his word. “…but some said you were actually…well…normal.” Jorge snorted at that. “Well in any case, I just wanted to say that the interview Scootaloo and her friends conducted was genuine.” Cheerilee smiled. “Thank you for telling me. I really hate giving out poor grades. This is a real relief.” “Also, I don’t mean to encroach on your job or anything, but don’t you think you might want to calm them down just a tad?” Cheerilee blinked and turned towards her students. Her eyes widened as if she were snapped out of a trance for a second time, and she looked like she was noticing the ruckus for the first time. As quick as lightning, she snatched a meter stick from her desk and snapped it on her desk, sending a loud, rippling *crack* across the class. The students all instinctively returned to their seats and shut their mouths in the blink of an eye. “Now then, please quiet down and let our guest answer his question,” said Cheerilee in a voice that was sweeter than honey. Jorge’s eyes found the petit colt that had asked him the question. “I don’t know what pony tastes like. I’ve never tried it.” “So do humans eat pony or what?” “No.” Jorge heard Cheerilee let out a relieved breath. “You seem disappointed.” “Uh course I am,” lamented the colt. “First I meet Nightmare Moon, and she doesn’t eat ponies, and now it turns out humans don’t eat ponies either!? It’s uh bit of uh rip off.” Before Jorge could think of anything to say to that, the filly with a lisp raised her foreleg. “Yes?” “What’s your favorite color?” “Anything but purple.” “Hey!” complained Cheerilee. “Sorry, but it’s true.” Jorge looked back to the filly. “I’m particularly fond of orange though.” Scootaloo’s wings buzzed with joy, and she beamed up to the soldier. “Don’t get too excited, little one,” he said, pointing to her mane and causing her to deflate slightly. “Oooh, oooooh, I got a question I got a question I got a question I got a question!” shouted another student. “Yes?” “Why are you wearing all that metal?” “This is my armor.” “And why are you wearing it?” “Duh, cuz it protects him, stupid,” snapped another colt. “That’s one of the reasons,” chuckled Jorge patiently. “Another reason is that it gives me certain…advantages. For example, the armor amplifies my strength by-” “So then how strong are you, huh? Huh? Huh? Huh? Huh? Huh? HUH!?” screamed the first colt. Jorge paused and gave the candy cane coated colt a curious look. “What’s your name?” “Sugar Rush, mister.” As he answered, vibrating slightly. How appropriate, thought the Spartan. “Well then, Sugar Rush. I hope this answers your question.” Jorge moved over to Cheerilee’s desk and in one quick motion, lifted it from the ground and raised it over his head. This elicited various ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ from the students. Jorge quickly lowered the desk again, and thanked Miss Cheerilee, who simply nodded dumbly at him. He was about to ask the class if they had any final questions, when he was interrupted by a shrill, pompous sounding voice. “Big deal. So the monkey can pick up a desk, still didn’t get you blank flanks your Cutie-Marks in ‘Freak Tamers.’” “Diamond Tiara!” yelled Cheerilee. Jorge looked over to the source of the voice. Two fillies were staring at him with open contempt; one was a pink filly wearing a smug smile, while the other was grey and trying to stifle a snicker. So you’re the little brats that have a superiority complex. Jorge stared blankly at them for a few more minutes before he started chuckling himself. This quickly quieted the two fillies. “That was actually quite funny,” said Jorge as he approached them. “Quite funny. I could actually use the help of a couple funny ponies.” He kneeled in front of the two, causing them to lean back nervously. “See, all that talk about eating foals got me curious. It got me wondering what ponies actually taste like.” Jorge scratched his beard before giving them a wide, malevolent smirk, making sure to show off his canines. “I think you two would be perfect candidates for a taste test.” Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon both shrieked in horror before falling back out of their chairs, prompting the rest of the class to burst out in laughter. Cheerilee gave Jorge an un-amused expression which seemed to ask, ‘was that really necessary?’ Jorge shrugged before returning to the front of the class. The small, white colt with the brown spot raised his hoof again. “Are you sure you don’t eat ponies?” “What’s your name, kid?” “Pipsqueak!” beamed the pony. “Pleasure tah meet ya mister!” “Yes, Pipsqueak. I’m sure I don’t eat ponies. I was just joking.” “Shoot,” muttered Pipsqueak in disappointment. “Sorry about that. Is there a way I could make it up to you?” Pipsqueak scratched his head in thought before perking up considerably. “Could you give me a piggyback ride?” Jorge (and just about everypony in the class for that matter) blinked in confusion. He flashed the colt a grin before bending over and motioning him over. Pipsqueak squealed in excitement. Her scrambled over to the Spartan and began clamoring up his armor. Using the grooves in the human’s suit as grips, the pony slowly but surely braved the mountainous soldier like an explorer making his way up a treacherous cliff side. He soon found himself at Jorge’s face, and, much to the biped’s annoyance, began using his nose and mouth as footholds. Finally, the wide-eyed colt found himself splayed out atop of Jorge’s head. “Woah! You’re so tall!” Jorge smiled up to the colt before looking back to the class. “Any more questions?” Every hoof in the class shot up. The rest of the class went fairly quickly. After a few more minutes of Jorge answering questions for the students, Cheerilee informed Scootaloo and her group that their time was up, and that they had to go sit down, much to everypony’s disappointment. Everypony had begged the human to let them have a turn on his shoulders, but the Spartan was forced to refuse lest he be buried alive by dozens of children. Shortly after Pipsqueak climbed down, the purple teacher offered Jorge to wait inside until recess, which he did with a shrug. Once the bell signaling the beginning of break rang, the fillies and colts of Ponyville’s schoolhouse burst forth from its confines and headed towards the playground. They were each chatting excitedly about the human that had visited them. Only the CMC, Featherweight, Pipsqueak, and Cheerilee remained behind with the human. “That was awesome, Jorge!” gushed Scootaloo once the class was empty. “They practically ate it up.” “Glad I could help.” “I can’t remember the last time Show and Tell was that exciting,” said Cheerilee. “I do,” said Pipsqueak. “It was when Snips an’ Snails brought their home chemistry set.” Cheerilee winced at the mention of that particular school day. “Oh…right. Well, in any case, I want to thank you again for coming over and clearing the air with the interview. Next week we’re starting our lessons on international cultures, and we’d love to have you come over and give us a more thorough talk on humans.” “I’ll have to think about it.” “And don’t forget that you promised to give us piggy back rides tomorrow,” said Sweetie Belle sternly. “I won’t,” chuckled the human. After saying his goodbyes, Jorge left the schoolhouse and walked back to his cottage through town. As he walked through the village, ponies once again opted to avoid getting too close to him. However with him being a regular occurrence in Ponyville at this point, it was getting easier for the town’s residents to ignore him, which was fine by him. Before long he made it back to the oceans of meadows that consisted of Ponyville’s outskirts, and his clock tower soon poked out over the horizon. As he neared his dwellings, Jorge spotted a dark figure pacing in front of the front entrance. At a second glance, he recognized the being as Princess Luna. Ever so quietly, he approached the Princess until he was right behind her, and cleared his throat as loudly as possible. The Princess jumped and spun around. Her head was lowered, and she had her glowing horn trained directly at the unimpressed Spartan. Once she recognized who it was, her horn’s glow died, and she relaxed her flared wings. “We are impressed. There are few creatures that dwell within this plain that can sneak upon us. Thou should be proud.” “I’ll keep that in mind. Why are you speaking like that?” A blush crept up Luna’s neck. “Pay no heed to our speak, mortal! We…tis nothing!” One of Jorge’s eyebrows quirked upward, but other than that he betrayed no emotion on his chiseled expression. “Fair enough. Now for my follow up question: Why are you here?” “We…*ahem*…I couldn’t help but admire your work,” she answered, gesturing to the abandoned tents that still littered the area. “Once my sister and I received letters from almost every news source in the country we were forced to declare a full media blackout with everything regarding…well…you.” “So that’s why I haven’t had a visit from those charming reporters. I’m disheartened. And here I thought I just scared them that well.” “Don’t flatter yourself,” deadpanned Luna. “I take it you aren’t very well acquainted with the journalism industry?” “Fair enough,” snorted Jorge. “Have they given you any trouble lately?” “Like you could not believe. We’ve been getting hundreds of letters daily. Most are requests to lift the blackout, but almost just as many are pleas for more information.” The Princess tapped her chin in ponderously. “Come to think of it, a publication named ‘Podium Digest’ has been particularly persistent.” Luna looked him over curiously. “I see you're no longer wearing your helmet,” she pointed out, gesturing to the helmet under Jorge’s arm. “Decided to try out a new look today,” he answered with a shrug. “Sorry to hear about the letters by the way. Now…” Jorge gave the Princess a scowl. “…why are you really here?” The Spartan all but growled the last sentence. “And where have you been the last couple days?” Luna sighed wearily. “Preparing.” It was all she said before she craned her neck and looked toward the sun, as if hoping it would give her guidance. After nearly a minute of silence, she turned back to the soldier. “We need you to come to Canterlot. My sister and I have conveyed a meeting and we need you to attend.” “Why?” “Because it is a meeting concerning you.” “Wow, being popular sure is fun,” he rumbled. “And if I refuse?” Luna shrugged. “Then that is your choice. We certainly can’t force you. We did consider refusing you lodgings if you did, but quickly came to the conclusion that that would cause more problems than it was worth.” Jorge stayed quiet for a few heart beats, deep in thought. “What’s this meeting about?” he asked Luna walked up the human until they were face to face. “Let us just say, our world has already met you, Jorge. It is time you met our world.”