//------------------------------//
// Chapter 11 
// Story: A Slice of Life 
// by Twilitbook 
//------------------------------//


A Slice of Life
Chapter 11

By Dawnscroll






Princess Celestia breathed in deeply through her nose and held it. Within that single cusp of air was the most heavenly of scents. Sweet sugar, flaky dough, and an autumn orchard. Her favorite. It was only with great reluctance that it was released, and she licked her lips.

“Do you smell that?” Celestia asked the stallion who stood patiently alongside her. “Warm apple pies. My chefs are celebrating the return of their princess.”

MacApple turned his nose to the air, taking a cautious sniff. “Honeycrisp slices. Pinch of tapioca, grain for filling. Touch strong on the cinnamon, though.” At the looks he received from the stallions around him, he gave a self-conscious cough. “The missus’s special talent was making pies that made your mouth water just at the smell of them. I know what a good apple pie smells like.”

“I always knew I loved your family.” Celestia said, beaming at him.

“And I’m sure they love you too, Your Majesty. Now, can you please hurry? We’re not exactly getting any younger here.”

“To be fair, we can’t exactly get much older either.”

MacApple and Thunder Smith, and a small collection of their crew each stood with a stack of paperwork on their backs and bored looks on their faces. Celestia sat at a desk inside the command tent, tirelessly filling out form after form. “I always hated this part.” MacApple grumbled under his breath, “Those bean counters ruin everything. Bah, there is no reason any pony should have to fill out a form in triplicate if he wants to truss up some birds. In my day-“

“When dinosaurs ruled the earth.” Thunder Smith added with a whisper. He whistled innocently as the general glared at him.

“In my day, they gave us whatever was needed to win, and that was that! Now its all about cutting costs. As if victory could ever be cheap!”

Thunder Smith pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, careful not to disturb the growing tower on his back. “You’re still sore about them turning down your request for that giant whoopee cushion, aren’t you?”

“It was effective! And we could have kept the war going for another ten years if it wasn’t for those bureaucrats!”

She offered him an apologetic smile and placed another finished page on his back. “I still have an entire kingdom to run, and I can’t let this get behind. Administration is the blood of the empire after all.”

“Yes, but why do we have to be involved?”

Celestia tried to hide her smirk from the restless general. “Don’t you want to help your princess in her endeavor?”

Thunder Smith averted his eyes. “In all honesty, Your Highness, this is why I left the army.”

Her attention turned to a weathered pegasus who swooped down with a weathered scroll in his hooves. “We retrieved the Mane-ga Carta from the archives like you asked, Your Highness.”

It was one of the more important documents . Celestia had spent well over a decade brokering with Equestria’s neighboring allies to bring it to reality. It essentially ensured that neither the Equestrian monarch nor her allies would muster an army in a pre-emptive strike against a bordering nation, as well as some nonsense about forming a parliament, representation of taxation, equal rights and other such rot.

Needless to say, it was a huge thorn in her side if she wanted to seize the kitchens with fire and blood.

The sun goddess flippantly waved it away, her focus on the paperwork before her. “Just shove it right in the shredder with the rest of them. I’ll draw up another once this nonsense is all finished.”

The stallion nodded and hobbled off to do her will. If she was going to break no less than fifteen treaties and made a provocative assault on a defenseless nation, then by the ancestors, she was going to be as thorough and as legal as possible about it.

“How soon can you have me in there?” Celestia asked.

“We’re just about ready to move. If we march immediately after you’ve finished rewriting half the laws in Equestria,” the general’s irritation at his predicament only thinly veiled, “and nopony breaks a hip in the next few minutes, you’ll be stuffing your face with those pies in the next ten minutes.”

There was a crash behind the stallion as Celestia watched a tower of ammo boxes come tumbling down onto the soldier at its base with a loud crash. 

“Twenty minutes,” corrected MacApple without missing a beat.

Celestia winced as she watched the stallion be carted off to the medbay. Well, that was going to be a headache and a half from the insurance companies.

“I still can’t believe that not a single one of you thought of bringing food with you!” she complained. She pressed a hoof to her belly as her stomach gave a deafening growl. Didn’t these ponies ever hear that an army marched on its stomach? “You brought all these ammo crates, entrenchment tools, sleeping bags, and not a single bite? Nothing? No cakes or hard candy or even an MRE?”

“Oh, those things?” MacApple gave her an apologetic smile. “Oh, they went bad decades ago. You wouldn’t want anything from those packets anyway. Although…” he added, screwing his face up in thought, “I think we might have a jar of applesauce or two around here somewhere.”

That was a lie and Celestia knew it. Those meal kits were guaranteed to stay edible for over a hundred years if left unopened, and it was proven! The ones the government had given to MacApple’s bunch during his service had been from the war before his and had been well into their fortieth year. They had to have at least one of them somewhere!

“Princess, you’re stalling again,” MacApple gently chided.

“Just tell me where I have to sign,” Celestia surrendered.

“Ah, quite right, Your Highness. Just once more here... and here.” Celestia scribbled her name on the dotted line, only to have a yet another pegasi drop another stack of parchment in front of her. Celestia groaned and planted her face on her desk. She could practically feel the precious seconds slipping away till the universe decided to throw a wrench into her plans.

Unless…

“General,” she announced suddenly, “I’m putting into motion the Clean Slate Contingency  stratagem.”

This seemed to perk the two stallions up considerably. MacApple and Thunder Smith traded shared grins and nodded in approval. “Dually noted, princess. Proceed.”

In a brilliant display of administrative competence, she began stamping her way through the forms as fast as she could without even reading them.

Parliament’s request to double military spending? Done. Which color she wanted the new drapes in the guest wing to be? All of them. Proposal for the installment of a zombie ninja contingency plan in hospitals? While strangely familiar, it was funded without a second glance. Her nephew’s suggestion that all female guard’s should wear miniskirts? Completely plausible. Celestia flew through the pages in shortly, rubber stamping her seal of approval without abandon. With a final heave ho, she slammed her stamp down on the desk and sank back in her seat.

“Done,” Celestia said, with a satisfied smile. She’d clean up her mess later. Right now, it was time for-

A vein throbbed in her forehead as MacApple heaved his stack of papers onto the desk.

The general’s eyes twinkled beneath his monocle. “And these are city-zoning permits you told us to get from your office. Don’t worry marm. We’ll have you in there in a jiffy. Why, I remember when I was Seargeant-Major, I was in the trenches of Burro with the 52nd. It was so rainy, the mud was up to your knees. Hardly a place to enjoy tea, but we had orders to strike the Griffins hard with everything we had. It was Colonel Tulip who lead the assault-”

The alicorn rubbed temples with a weary sigh, doing her best to tune out the stallion. While she loved him dearly, she knew MacApple had to be handled like hard scotch. Infrequent shots, with a lull to recover afterwards.

Speaking of which, where was Medic Soothing Syrup when you needed him?

When she came back to the present, the old codger was still going at it. “-and then the lobsters came into the courtroom, where they proceeded to dance-”

Thunder Smith discreetly nudged the general. “Fast forward to the short version, sir.”

The general blinked owlishly behind his monocle. “Er, quite right. Anywho, afterwards, the CO told us that a little bit of hunger would make stallions out of us. Thickened the skin, it did.”

The sun goddess rolled her eyes and with a great flourish, finished the last of the signatures on the paperwork. “If hunger thickens the skin, then I must be a freaking armadillo right now,” Celestia muttered under her breath. Her horn glowed and she teleported the last of the paperwork to her room. The soldiers gave a collective breath of relief as the burden was lifted from their aged backs. Many spines (and hips) were popped back into place.

Celestia pulled her helmet back on as ponies scurried about to fall into rank. In a short moment, lines had been formed and weapons readied. 

“Are we ready to wage war, general?” Celestia asked, as MacApple took his place alongside her.

MacApple thumped with armor with nod. “I was born ready, ma’am.”

Celestia then turned to the crowd. “Has anypony broken their hip?” Everypony shook their head. “And all the paperwork is done?” Once again, everypony in the crowd nodded. Little could ruin the excitement bubbling up in her chest. At last, things could begin.

“We have tarried long enough, so let us not waste anymore time.” Celestia announced. “I don’t know about you, but battle gives me a great appetite-” She paused with a smile as chuckles broke out amongst her ranks. ”-and there are a lot of bored chefs behind those doors! It’s been a long time since they last could apply their trade!” The golden clad goddess nodded to the stallion next to her. From the ranks behind her, a bugle sounded and somepony hoisted Celestia’s standard, a golden sun against a blue sky, high above the heads of the army.

MacApple gave a nod of approval and Celestia turned her back on them and towards the long hallway in front of her. Just around the corner lay her prize. “I say let’s not keep them waiting! Forward!”

A deep ‘boom’ echoed through the hall as five score hooves took a step forward. Then another boom, and another. It fell into a steady beat as the ranks advanced one by one behind her. Grim smiles lined each face as they marched in tandem. No doubt this would be their final battle. Each stallion was a gear, moving in slow, methodical time with the great war machine.

Then Celestia began to gallop, and the organized ranks behind her dissolved into a mad dash to keep up.

”Ride now!” Celestia shouted above the din, “Ride! Ride for glory! Ride for ruin! And the diet’s ending! Chaaaaarge!”

A single, unified voice rose in agreement from the horde in back of her. The army cheered as one living, breathing body and surged forward. Their hooves shook the floor with not the methodical beating of a single drum, but with all the fury of a thousand. For one, brief moment they were no longer world weary stallions. The exhaustion that clung to them was cast off and thrown aside like a heavy winter coat, and in their place stood stallions in the prime of youth. Patriots who volunteered to leave home for parts unknown and dedicate life and body to fight, to protect, and to die for princess and country.

They had a purpose once more.

For the briefest of moments, they were young again. Maybe not in body, but in heart and mind. They would do their duty, even if it meant to follow Her Highness to the gates of Tartarus and back.

Princess Celestia rounded the corner, a heroic shout on her lips-

-only to come to a screeching halt.

Half a dozen bodies collided into her rear as their momentum still carried them forward. It
threatened to knock the goddess over, but she barely held her ground as her troops fell into an
disorganized heap behind her.

“Well,” Princess Celestia remarked with a raised eyebrow, “This is entirely unexpected.”

“What’s going on?” MacApple asked, picking himself up off the ground. Several groans followed as his companions picked themselves up off the ground. “Where are they at? Did we walk into a minefield? Is it the griffins? Why, I’ll–“ His eyes widened as he took in the opposition. “Oh… oh my.”

There was a deathly silence hung in the air, nopony daring to speak of what they saw. Then, at last, Celestia turned to her general and bent her head down to his level. “I’m confused,” Celestia whispered, a grain of hope in her voice, “Are they surrendering? Because, they are ready to throw food at me.

“I don’t think its going to be that easy, your highness.” Thunder Smith answered, eyeing the defenses. Celestia pouted and added a whole slew of pieces to the chess board in her head.

She had expected minimal resistance from the two guards posted outside of the kitchen doors. The mare who served her sister would be a tricky one to put down, but she had been fairly confident her soldiers could deal with her.

What she did not expect was the whole of the kitchen staff to turn out in full force. A series of overturned food trolleys served as crude blockades to the kitchen’s entrance. Mares and stallions, pastry chefs and fry cooks alike barred the width of the narrow hallway, a blend of pots and pans cobbled together as crude armor adorning their bodies.

And each of them had a pie aimed at Celestia.

She… had not been expecting this. Celestia felt she had taken care of every obstacle in her path. Clearly, she had underestimated the tenacity of her staff and Head Chef.

But the most fearsome amongst them was the sheep who served as that role in the royal kitchens. Head Chef Ram Sea stood gallantly upon a serving trolley, a impetuous smirk spread across his face. Half of the sheep’s face and body was blue, the result of a jar of blueberry jam liberally spread across his wool. A checkered tablecloth was wrapped around his waist and across his shoulder, no doubt serving as an impromptu kilt. A stick of celery was clenched in his mouth.

“Well look at what we have here, lads. Th' stoatin' bairny Celestia has climbed down from 'er shinin' chair on th' sun tae visit us wee mortals beneath 'er castle,” the sheep said loudly so that Celestia could hear him from across the hall. “Ah wonder if she’s decided tae come join us for lunch. Ah’m sure there’s a stick or two of celery somewhere 'at ye can nibble on.” Every cook there chuckled and snickered at her, with Ram Sea’s being the loudest. “Ye can have 'em when ye come an' kiss mah fluffy white rump, you howpin tosser!” he shot with laughter. In a single motion, the sheep turned his back on Celestia’s army, bent over, lifted his tail, and gave every stallion and goddess a glorious view of said woolly posterior. MacApple’s jaw unhinged itself and his monocle popped from his eye.

“Oh my,” Celestia whispered, grateful that her helmet hid her burning cheeks. It didn’t rank up in her top ten, but she had seen worse.

“Just give the word, mum,” Thunder Smith whispered from Celestia’s side. A water-balloon was elevated and cocked back with his magic. “I can take him out from here. We’ll have them on the run in jiffy.”

The princess carefully removed her golden helmet, exposing her ivory face for all to see. “I will go to meet him. If the chef has words for me, I will hear them.”

“But your highness, are you sure you want to deal with this… savage?” MacApple asked, staring sternly across the hall at Ram Sea. The sheep was angrily hitching up his makeshift kilt with a hoof. “Allow myself or one of the other boys to represent you in case he tries to pull any funny business. Smells like a prime trap to me.”

The sun goddess shook her head. “Nay, Ram Sea is not one to surrender so easily. But he is not without reason… usually,” she admitted bleakly. “Besides, I believe I am fully capable of handling a single sheep and his fish, general.”

MacApple seemed taken back and hurriedly shook his head. “O-of course, Your Highness.
Excellent point.”


******


“Somethin' about this smells fishy.”

“Actually Chef, I think that might just be-“

“Don’t e'en finish 'at, Silver Whisk.”

“Yes Head Chef.”

Chef Ram Sea suspiciously eyed the alicorn who waited patiently for him a few meters away. Her helmet was pressed against her breastplate with her magic, and she gazed impassively at the sheep who opposed her. For a fraction of a second, there was an ounce of doubt regarding his chances of victory in Ram Sea’s mind. Then the rest of his brain pummeled that rebellious strand of grey matter against his skull, skinned it alive and then proceeded to slow roast it over the roaring inferno of righteous fury that coursed through his Coltish blood.

The mare wanted to play games with him? Then he would play games.

What could Celestia possibly be thinking, with her face a mask of cool dislike and her eyes so intent on him?

“Looks like our ruler wishes tae have a wee caw wi' us.” The last of the celery vanished through his lips. “I wonder whit she wants.”

“I can make three guesses, and all are probably served on silver platters.”

Ram Sea looked down from his trolley where Lethe crouched behind a barricade to his left. The mare had immediately volunteered her help and had turned out in full armor. It would have been an intimidating sight, had she not gotten whipped cream everywhere in the rushed attempt to fill her pie trays.

“Are ye sure about this, lass? It’s gonnae git wee bit dicey.” Ram Sea asked her.

“Are you kidding me?” The Night Watch picked up a pie tray from the countless rows stacked behind the staff. “This is probably the most exciting thing that’s happened to me today. I mean, it’s either this or go home and sleep.”

“I wish I had thirty of you lot behind watching my back. Somepony who could actually aim instead of these milk-drinkers.” Ram Sea gave a blustering sigh and hitched up his kilt where it was beginning to fall down. “Well, Ah better nae keep 'er royal fat flanks waitin'.”

“They’d fight a lot better if you gave them an inspiring speech.” Lethe commented.

“A speech?” Ram Sea asked, The mare nodded eagerly.

“Yeah, you know. Something to rouse their spirits and get their blood pumping.”

Chef Ram Sea did not look so convinced. “Ah’m nae one for words, lass. What would Ah e'en say?”

Lethe wave a flippant hoof. “Just make it up as you go along. Speak from the heart. Just give them all something to think about while you’re tearing her highness a new one.”

“Ye sure?”

The Night Watch mare gave the chef a smile that threatened to break her face. “Absolutely. Now get up there and knock them dead!” she urged.

Ram Sea gave a thoughtful nod and his mood lightened up considerably. “Och, Ah know just the words tae get their bluid a boilin'.”

The mare’s façade broke as soon as his back was turned, and she gave a blustering sigh. Oh, the things she put up with. She noticed two nearby cooks who were busy filling pie trays and trotted over to them.

“He’s going to do it.” Lethe said smugly to the two.

“Minotaur scat!”

“Gesundheit.” Lethe said dully, before grabbing Silver Whisk’s head and turning him where Ram Sea was clearing his throat. “See for yourself.”

Silver Whisk let out a pained wail and buried his face in his hooves. “Are you kidding me?!”

Copper Kettle frowned and his magic tossed a small pouch to the ashen-mare. Lethe caught the bag with her teeth, and was happy to hear the musical jingle of the bits inside. “Well, there goes my paycheck,” he muttered.

Silver Whisk gave her a pleading look. “At least give me a chance to win something back! Double or nothing!”

“Sorry, boys,” Lethe said as she hid her winning beneath her plumage. “All bets are final.” She examined the two cooks up and down. They weren’t a half bad catch. “Of course, I might just let you boys try your hand at a card game.” She said, as she mentally undressed the two chefs.

“I’m broke, not foolish.” Copper said. “Besides, how in Equestria did you talk him into it?”

Lethe smiled coyly. “A lady never reveals her tricks.”

“Alright ye mockit jessies, listen up!”

A hush fell over the gathered cooks as expectant faces turned up to Ram Sea. An energy seemed to buzz through the crowd.

“Oh,” Silver Whisk said, eagerly rubbing his hooves together, “This is going to be good!” Then he caught the look his boss was giving him. “…or not.”

Ram Sea, for lack of a better word, was angry. Not his traditional ‘Ye burned a salad!’ angry, or more his occasional placid ‘Ye called in sick’ angry, but a never before seen ‘Ye insulted my mammy, ran off wi' mah daughter and spat in mah cereal’ type angry. Scholars would spend the next decade trying to give it a name. But in the meantime, Ram Sea was giving them all a stare that it would have curdled milk had it all not already been whipped and placed in tins.

“Don’t think 'at just ‘cause ye aw die today 'at ye’re gettin' out ay cleaning mah kitchen. Ah own ye, an' death isn’t gonnae tae change a thin'. So help me, Ah will have those blasted Arcana mages drag ye back from th' pits ay Tartarus an' shackle ye to the mortal plain for all eternity.”

Lethe gave the grey unicorn a blank look. “Wow. He sure knows how to keep the morale boosted,” she muttered under her breath.

Ram Sea gave a satisfied nod. Short and straight to the point. He clambered down from the food trolley and began to make his way across the hall, only to pause a few steps in. He glanced back at his cooks, and his eyebrows scrunched together into his trademark scowl.

“An' if Ah die,Ah’m gonnae to come back an' haunt each an' every one ay yer flanks till Tambelon returns,” he added for good measure. There was a mad dash to grab additional ammunition and straighten armor as the sheep walked to the no-mare’s land between the two armies.

“Speak for yourself,” Copper Kettle said to the stunned Lethe, snugly securing the pot on his head. “That’s all the motivation I need to make sure we win this.”


*****


They stopped several paces from each other.

The nomare’s land was no great distance; both armies were only a couple of yards away from each other. But it had always been and still remained sacred ground since ancient times.

Celestia was the first to place her golden helmet on the ground before her. It was only after a moment’s pause that Ram Sea swipe his own white hat from his woolen head and likewise dropped it before him. If Celestia wished for them to speak as equals, then he would oblige her.

The princess looked the sheep up and down. He was certainly a ferocious looking thing, looking more than ready for this whole messy affair. A swordfish nearly twice his size was strapped to his back, its tail resting against his shoulder. A peculiar weapon of choice, but if Celestia had any criticisms, there was but one.

Her Head Chef was… shorter than she last remembered.

“Princess Celestia,” Chef Ram Sea said cooly.

Celestia dipped her head in greeting. “Head Chef Ram Sea.”

“You’re looking well,” Celestia offered as a verbal olive branch. Ram Sea’s eyes flickered over her golden armor.

“Aye, an' it seems that ye lost weight. How much did ye work off? Two pounds? Three?”

Ouch. That was a low blow if any. She didn’t have to use that much duct tape to get her armor on. Not a problem. Two could play at this game.

“You realize you’re using jam as war paint, right?”

Ram Sea snorted. “It was a spur ay th' moment decision. Leave me alone lass.”

Celestia looked up at where Lethe stared at her from behind the kitchen barricades. Of course that mare would be here. No doubt she was behind this. The ebony mare blew a loud raspberry in the goddess’s direction. Celestia snorted and looked back down at Ram Sea. “It seems that you’re keeping some less than desirable company about you these days.”

He smirked and stole a glance at the latest addition to his staff. “Wee Lethe? Och, she’s a sweet thin'. Ah think Ah might just have to ask yer sister if Ah can tak' 'er on as an intern.”

Actually, Celestia considered, that wasn’t a half bad idea. It would certainly give her more freedom with that maree out of the picture. Better to make her Ram Sea’s problem instead of constantly thwarting everything she came up with.

...then again, did she REALLY want Lethe having access to her food?

“As much as I enjoy the pleasantries, Chef, I can just as easily get my fill of them at court.” Celestia placed her hoof on her helmet to remind the chef just why they were here.

“Tae business 'en,” the sheep agreed, and he looked behind Celestia at the elderly stallions gathered. Slowly, they circled each other, eyes locked. It was a nervous sort of pacing, the kind that only forced a conversation to continue.  “Would ye mind explaining tae me why an army is traipsing aboot along the border? If Ah were a bettin' sheep, Ah’d assume something absolutely bapit like… Ah dunno… ye were attemptin' tae break every treaty atween Equestria an' th' Royal Kitchens.”

“Just a tour of the palace, nothing more.” Celestia said airily. “But you know how it is with old-timers. They get hungry and thirsty from just climbing steps. So maybe you could do something for me, chef?”

“Such as?”

“Allow unrestricted access to my kitchens and its contents for the next hour. For me and my stallions.” Celestia watched as the sheep’s eyes turned a defiant ‘no’. “It is a lovely kitchen, and we merely want to see the inside of it,” Celestia reminded him, absentmindedly admiring her armor clad hoof. “It’s just… wouldn’t it be such a shame if something happened to it?”

“Ah don’t know whit ye fancy Canterlot ponies call 'at in yer towers, but down here, we call 'at an invasion.” Ram Sea added dangerously.

“Call it what you will. My army and I intend to have lunch.”

“The' only lunch ye lot will be gettin' is a heapin' servin' ay my hoof!” Ram Sea peered behind her.  “Ah’m nae sure if yer blind or gakkit, but yer army looks like it has two hooves in th' grave, an' th' other two just on the edge ay it.”

“It was either them or free Discord.”

“Now Ah KNOW yer just glakkit.” Ram Sea sputtered, “Or just plain delusional!”

“I take great offense to that!” Celestia protested. “I was tested thirty years ago, and I’ll let you know I have above average intelligence.” She did not mention, though, that the jury was still out on the delusions of grandeur part.

Ram Sea’s voice took on a more steely tone. “You really think you’ll get past these doors with that lot.”

A confident smirk crossed Celestia’s lips and she turned her gaze back to Ram Sea. “I don’t think so, Chef. I know so.”

“Ah was wrong,” Celestia’s chef remarked angrily. “Yer not just stupid. Ye're a blitherin', two faced, pansy flanked-“

On and on Chef Ram Sea went, using every stretch of his versatile brogue to describe exactly what he thought of the princess. Notebooks were brought out from both armies and a there was a mad scramble to get it all down. From the cook’s side of the hallway, however, the speech fell upon the deaf ears of a certain bat pony, who tapped her hoof impatiently.

“Come on,” Lethe whined, “Get on with it already! This is taking forever!”

Gravity seemed to have become the best of friends with Copper Kettle’s jaw, given with how low it was hanging. After a moment, Silver Whisk gently realigned his friends mouth, lest he accidentally swallow a fly.

“Where’s the rest of you guys?” Silver Whisk asked abruptly. “I mean, shouldn’t the rest of the Night Watch be somewhere in the castle? Barracks maybe?”

“We’re union,” Lethe said simply. Both cooks looked at each other.

“So wait, you’re trying to tell me,” Silver Whisk said, shaking his head as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “That you guys have things like sick days and benefits and-“

“Weekends? Overtime? Vacations?” the mare offered with a nod. Both of their eyes widened.

“They’re not still hiring by any chance, are they?” Silver Whisk asked hopefully. “I mean, this whole cook bit is really just sort of a temporary gig.”

“Look,” Lethe said gently. She kicked her hoof awkwardly. “I get what you’re trying to do. This whole back and forth thing? I mean, I appreciate it, but…” She offered him apologetic smile. “…I already have somepony to do that do that with.”

Silver Whisk’s ears pressed against his head in disappointment.

A chuckle came from Copper Kettle at his friend’s expense and he patted the grey unicorn on the back gently. “Better luck next time.”

“Couldn’t you just... pretend for a little while?” Silver Whisk asked hopefully. “I mean, I could die today.”

Lethe rolled her eyes in disbelief, gesturing at the scene around them. “I’m fighting alongside a bunch of cooks armed with fo-custard pies led by a sheep whose clearly watched Bravehoof too many times, against an army of Medicart recipients who will be firing water balloons at us and led by a carb-craving sun goddess who repaired her armor with duct tape,” Lethe said flatly to both cooks. “Newsflash: Nopony in their right mind should be taking this thing seriously.”

The two cooks looked at each other.

“She’s got a point.” Copper Kettle admitted his friend.

“Still, she could be a little nicer, all things consid-”

Both cooks got the opportunity to taste the bottom of Lethe’s hooves as she shoved them in their mouths. “Shhh!” Lethe whispered, peeking over the barricade. “I think he’s almost finished!”

“-boggin, hing-oot, shaan gadgie, lavvie-headed rooster who insulted mah cooking!”

Celestia blinked. “Excuse me?

“Are ye deaf in th' 'ead? Ah want tae hear an apology from th' horse’s lips herself! Now scrape and beg for forgiveness or I’ll beat it out ay you, your majesty!”

An absolutely flabbergasted princess stared at her chef as though he had sprouted another head. “Apologize for what exactly?” she asked.

“When ye insult a chef’s cooking, ye insult 'im.”

“My dear chef, when have I ever insulted your cooking?”

Ram Sea's eyes narrowed. “Vegetable. Milkshake.”

“Oh...” Celestia said nervously, “That milkshake.”

It took every ounce of Celestia’s willpower not to gag. The mere memory of that foul brew made Celestia want to buffer her tongue with sandpaper, and she shuddered under her armor. This did not go unnoticed by her Head Chef, whose mood fouled considerably.

“AH KNEW IT! AH KNEW YE INSULTED MAH COOKIN'!” Several unicorns on Ram Sea’s staff had to use their magic to keep the sheep from going for the alicorn’s throat, who had suddenly unsheathed his weapon and dove at her. “Take it back! Take it back or else so help me, Ah’ll tan yer hide an' turn ye into jello!”

Celestia gawked at him, not believing her ears. “You’re giving me this much trouble over a milkshake?” 

“Just a milkshake?! It was a masterpiece!” Ram Sea fumed.

“Masterpiece?!” It was the most revolting thing I had ever tasted!”

The words were out before she could stop herself. By the time she had realized it, it was already too late. Ram Sea looked as though he had just been informed that a loved one had died.

“I’m gonnae tae make ye eat those words,” Ram Sea whispered at last. “E'en if Ah have tae cram a funnel in yer ugly mug.”

Celestia hissed and bared her teeth. “Brave words in the face of a goddess,” she reminded him.

Ram Sea’s grip on his fish tightened. “There can be only one god here, Celestia. An' in mah country, it isn’t ye.”

Celestia’s face grew red with anger at his audacity. “When I ceded the Kitchens to you, I had no idea the role would go straight to that fluff filled brain of yours.”

“Mah kingdom. Mah rules.”

That was it. Celestia was through with the sweet talk, the insults, the senseless back and forth bickering. Ancestors buck them all, she was the princess, not this oaf, and her word was law.

“You will open those doors for me!” Bitter magenta eyes stared down at the defiant sheep. “I will not be spoken down to by some foul-mouthed, fry-cook-”

Smack.

Celestia’s face stung.

“Never,” Ram Sea growled threateningly, “call me a fry-cook.”

It took Princess Celestia’s brain a moment to register that she had just been hit with over two- hundred pounds of raw fish.

“How DARE you!” The goddess roared, her voice cracking like thunder in the narrow hallway. The stones themselves shook at her volume. Her mane and tail burst with broiling heat that Ram Sea could feel from where he stood. “You would strike upon your-“

There was another loud crack as Ram Sea swung his weapon, and the head of the fish smacked across Celestia’s face once more.

“Well,” Lethe noted dryly, “When I woke up this morning, I never expected to see that.” She donned her Night Watch helmet, her golden eyes never leaving the opposing field. “I guess it’s safe to say that negotiations are over.”

Ram Sea turned while the princess was still reeling and made a mad dash for the kitchen barricades.

“Fire at will!” he shouted, diving over the barricades. The cooks stood up and let loose a volley of pies at Celestia’s army.

The battle for the Royal Kitchens had begun.


*****


Teeth and claws filled Luna’s eyes as the beast lunged at her. Her wings snapped to her sides and she dove beneath its maw. She reared back and kicked with all her might with her hind legs. She was satisfied to see the dragon’s head snap up at the impact, and flew away before it could retaliate.

Beads of sweat shined on the goddess’s body as her muscles burned from exertion. Luna rejoiced in it, commanding every inch of her divine being

“Vile serpent!” Luna spat. “Demon birthed from embrace of hellish flame! Dost thou realize who I am?” The dragon roared in defiance, now nothing more than rage incarnate. She once again evaded the creature’s attacks , dodging tooth and flame, though her eyes never left the dragon’s. “I alone know where Tambelon lies! I who once drowned the world in darkness and night unending! I am the blessed monarch of Equestria and mother of the stars and I am thy bane!” Luna shouted, teleporting in front of the dragon’s chest. With the swiftness of a lightning bolt she placed her horn against the creature’s chest and pierced it. “Now breathe thy last, for this world is not for thee!”

With a shriek, she pumped her magic into the monster’s heart. With a bright light, she had blown it to smithereens.  The dragon gave a final shriek of agony before crashing down dead. The ground trembled at its falling, and Luna dislodged her horn, and alighted on its next.

With a gleeful cackle, she decapitated its head with a wave of her horn and sent it bouncing along the ground. It came to rest at Slender Flank’s hooves, who was watching nearby.

“And… time,” the trainer said, pausing the stopwatch she held. She looked at the time and raised an eyebrow in approval. “Very well done, m’lady. You beat your personal best.”

“Victory is mine!” Luna crowed, tossing the dragon’s innards into the air. She giggled as she rolled around the visceral remnants.

Slender Flank glanced down at the dragon’s head and nudged it with her hoof. It let out a half-hearted squeak before collapsing further on itself. With a straight face, she picked up the ruined toy and tossed it into the trash, before beginning to wipe off from her face the strands of cotton stuffing that Luna had gotten every everywhere.

In her short time with her, Slender Flanks had learned something very important:

Princess Luna had a very active imagination.

“Alright, princess, calm down.” The trainer said gently as she swept away the remaining stuffing with her magic.

“I cannot! I wait in eager anticipation for his return with my breakfast!” Luna stared at another training dummy, as though deciding what the next best plan to exterminate it. Slender blushed as her stomach rumbled at the mere mention of breakfast.

A simple egg and cheese omelet. Simple, easy, and nutritious with plenty of protein for pumping iron. Was that so hard to get?

Considering she sent Schwarzwälder four hours ago to get it for them… yes.

Had any of her other employees taken this long to do one simple chore, Slender would have given them the pink slip a long time ago. Of course, none of her other employees bench pressed the moon goddess, so it was a bit of adaunting feat to take him off the payroll.

“No,” Slender Flank reminded herself, “You can’t fire him. You need the money.”

And did she ever. Regardless of her countless protests, Schwarzwälder and Princess Celestia both did not realize the full extent of their strength. That, coupled with the stallion’s intensive workouts, lead to equally intensive damage to her business.

Since then, the Haunches Gym had received new tread mills, new weights, all brand new equipment, seven coats of paint, two front doors, a new floor, a whole new infrastructure, a new dental plan for Schwarzwälder’s piranha and no less than four lawsuits for sexual harassment.

Still, the Crown paid for all damages, so Slender was content to let them have free reign over her establishment. So long as her establishment was still standing when they were finished…

She had never seen her gym so busy! Ponies of all classes worked out on countless machines, all the newest and latest in the field of physical therapy (and all courtesy of the taxpayer’s bit). Business was good. This was the place to be, especially since the princesses came here.

Even now, at least a hundred eyes were on her and her charge. Slender kept her cool though; her attention needed to remain focused on Princess Luna.

For the next hour, all she had to do was worry about one destructive force of nature in her gym. Then she just had to pray her gym would still be standing after Schwarzwälder showed up.

Still, Slender Flank had to admit that Luna’s subtle hero-worship of the trainer was rather cute.

Subtle like a brick that was. The mare had been acting like a love-struck filly, sneaking glances at the door like the stallion was about to walk through it at any second.

“When shall he be here?” Luna asked for what felt like the millionth time that day. Slender resisted the urge to groan, and instead slapped on the same fake smile she had been wearing all day.

“Don’t worry, princess. I’m sure he’ll be back any moment now with our orders.”

“What do you think could be taking him so long?” Luna asked the trainer thoughtfully.


*****


The Crystal Mountains... 

Teeth and claws filled Schwarzwälder’s vision as the dragon’s mouth closed around him. He gave a savage grunt, and his hind legs bucked out sending the creature’s teeth flying into the abyss of the canyon. He clambered past the serpent’s gums and hauled himself out.

The stallion wound up his hoof and punched the dragon right in her snout, which crunched up from the force of the blow, dropping him. The Oxtrian stallion caught himself on the ridge of the dragon’s wing.

“Slender Flank and Moon Princess ask for omelet! Schwarzwälder will make sure they get it!” he shouted, ripping a hole in the wing’s membrane.

It bellowed in pain, collapsing against the canyon side and sending rocks plummeting hundreds of feet below.

He galloped along the dragon’s shoulder, heading straight for the clutch of ginormous speckled eggs in the nest behind the dame. He was so close…

“RAAAAARGH!” Schwarzwälder roared in frustration, biting down on the claw that swept him away.


*****


“…I haven’t the faintest idea.” Slender answered truthfully, as she climbed out of the ring. Luna followed her, toweling off after the workout.

“I feel most energized.” Luna said, her eyes darting around the gym in excitement. “What shall we partake of now?”

“Well,” Slender rubbed her chin thoughtfully, looking around her gym. What did she need replaced next? “I suppose you can-“

The door at the front slammed open and a pony galloped to the front desk.

“Welcome to the Haunches Gym, where we’re guaranteed to make you the leanest, meanest, and most perfectly sculpted pony you can be,” the mare at the front desk chimed. “How may we help you?”

“I have… I have a… message for… oh jeeze…” Hoplite gasped for breath. He gave a heart wrenching wheeze and keeled over to his side. “Just… gimme a moment…”

Luna’s mood brightened considerably, and she swooped over to stand at his side. “Ah, fair Hoplite,” she greeted with a smile, “Rise, so that we may embrace cherished friend of most faithful guard.”

Hoplite was still failing to catch his breathe. He made a feeble attempt to rise, only to collapse back on his belly. “If it’s all the same to you, your majesty,” he said wearily, “I’m going to lay down for a bit.”  

“Very well,” Luna said, as she sat down next to him. “Then do tell. What brings thee so far from thy post thee? Is it urgent?"

“It’s bad,” Hoplite admitted. He gulped looked up at the alicorn. “You’re sister is making another assault on the Kitchen. We need your help.”

“Oh,” Luna said with a snort. Her distaste was evident on her face. “This nonsense again. I have complete faith in both thee and Lethe to handle anything that she might attempt.” Luna said with a reassuring smile.

“She sabotaged her own guards and summoned an army of the almost dead to lay siege on the kitchens.” Hoplite said without batting an eyelash. “So yeah, we could really use your help right now.”

Luna gave an apologetic glance at Slender Flank, who waved it off, secretly relieved.

“We can always reschedule for another day, princess.” Slender Flank said with a shrug.

Luna drew herself up to full height, smiling. “Dear Hoplite, return and aid anyway you can in the conflict. Look for us on the dawning of the third day, for we-“

“We don’t have three days, princess!” Hoplite shouted frantically. “Your sister is probably breaking down the doors right now!”

The alicorn rolled her eyes. “Fine…” she grumbled, “Give me an hour or two. I will make sure that my sister keeps to this ridiculous diet…”

Hoplite gave a sigh of relief and rose on weary hooves. He gave a respectful bow and turned to leave. “As you command, your majesty.”

“Private,” Luna’s voice stopped him in his step. It was to the brim with curiosity, “Thou art my sister’s shield. Do you act against her for her own sake, or at the bequest of another?”

Hoplite couldn’t bring himself to meet Luna’s gaze, instead finding his hooves to be far more interesting.

“I don’t have courage of confidence…” Hoplite admitted, “But I know I just want her to need me.” He turned on his heel and sprinted out of the gym, taking flight once again to the battlefield.

The princess of the night smiled and shook her head. Her little ponies would never cease to amuse her.

Luna closed her eyes and a glow surrounded her horn. With a soft ‘pop’, a rather hefty sack appeared in front off the trainer. Slender peered inside, and nearly had a heart attack; it was full to the brim with gold bits.

“Princess, what is this for?”

“That is,” Luna said as she spread her ebony wings, “for thy roof.”

“What?” Slender’s eyes widened in realization. “No, wait, your highness, just use the-“

Princess Luna shot up with the force of a bomb, moving faster than the mare’s eyes could track. There was a horrible ripping noise as the alicorn blasted right through the roof. Slender Flank watched as the navy dot rapidly fade in the distance.

“…door.” The trainer finished weakly. She looked around at the debris and the ponies pulling themselves out from under the fallen beams.  Her eye twitched as the rest of the gym’s ceiling slowly crumbled in on itself. Her hoof wrapped around the sack of bits and pulled it closer.

Well… the gym needed a new roof anyway.


*****


There wasn’t a single space in the hallway that wasn’t smeared with cream, and tins littered the floor. Water balloons, pillows, and chickens were fired back with equal ferocity. Time and time again, Celestia’s forces pushed against Ram Sea’s, and each time the cooks held, though precious inches were lost with each assault. The air was thick with the cries for war, victory, and baked goods from the lips of those still drew breath. No passing concern was made for those fallen; not while the other side still resisted. Such was the mare known as War.

Celestia’s forces were both numerous and trained; the passing of years had left them with first hand experience of combat, and they threatened to overwhelm the defenders. But they were old, and the cooks were young and energetic, which gave the Kitchens a fighting chance. Pegasi on both sides bombarded enemy lines with their munitions, only to have their numbers thinned from unicorn marksmen. The unlucky spiraled out of the control, to crash against the floor in an explosion of cream or water. Pie and balloon was placed before those with hind-legs still strong enough to buck them, and as the two lines inched closer and closer together, it had rapidly devolved to hoof-to-hoof.

All this paled in comparison to the gods who warred amidst the lesser scuffles.

Everypony, whether elder or cook, mare or stallion, gave the two a wide berth lest they accidentally be drawn into the conflict.

He pushed back with his fish, forcing the goddess back a pace and followed up with a stab. She lazily deflected its point with the tip of her horn and lunged at the opening, hooves scraping to gain purchase. But Ram Sea was quick on his hooves, and slapped her away with his weapon’s tail. He kicked up a fallen pie, and swung the fish like a bat. With a successful hit, he sent the pastry towards Celestia, who teleported herself just out of its path. Her glee that her foes were using pies for their weapons had quickly soured once she tasted them. Cardboard had more flavour than the bland cream, and Celestia took note of the insult. The sheep was toying with her, depriving her taste buds of any satisfaction even now. Occasionally, he would produce vegetables from his person which he would chuck at her head. They thunked uselessly against her helmet, but each one only raised her ire.

Back and forth they had fenced across the hallway, and while on the surface the fight seemed to be equal, one thing was obviously clear to Celestia.

The goddess was beginning to tire.

“You’re better than I had thought.” Celestia had to grudgingly admit to herself that the sheep was giving her a run for her money. That, or Schwarzewalder was right and she was out of shape…

Nah. It was easier to pretend that Ram Sea was just really really good.

Which is the part that left the goddess utterly baffled. Ram Sea had no place being here on the battlefield. His place was in the kitchen, making her sandwiches-

The princess was forced to duck as her foe took a sudden swipe at her neck. If the scowl on his face was any indicator, the sheep had read her mind and did not take kindly to her thoughts of him.

Still, Celestia was no fool and the chef was quickly proving to her that he was not one either. He did not have a unicorn’s magic, a pegasus’ speed, or an earth pony’s stamina. What he did have, however, was a particularly lethal fish whose point had been sharpened to a razor’s edge, and a stubbornness to rival a dragon.

As soon as the conflict had extended to hoof-to-hoof fighting amongst their forces, the sheep had sought her out on the battlefield, knocking aside everypony in his path like bowling pins. Battles could be won without throwing an army at each other. If you cut off a snake’s head, the body would die; if the leader fell, so did their army.

Which Ram Sea had tried, with tireless gusto. He had scored her armor numerous times, and the scratches were beginning to show.

“I don’t suppose you can just let me by?” Celestia asked. She conjured a swathe of shimmering light to block a stab from Ram Sea, but it shattered under the force of his swordfish.

“Not a flaming chance in Tartarus!” he retorted. “Ah’ve waited long enough tae hear ye apologize!”

The goddess’s voice was quiet. “Long?” she whispered. A heavy silence lay in the air, as the runes along her armor began to glow. “Long?” she repeated again.

Then her entire body erupted into an inferno.

“LONG?” Celestia exploded, sending tremors through the hallway. Cooks and veterans alike held on for dear life as the ground beneath them shook like jello. Ram Sea plunged his swordfish point first into the ground and held on for dear life, barely withstanding the epicenter. Her Royal Canterlot Voice alone threatened to bring the ceiling down on their heads. “Do you puny ponies know what a millenium feels like? What a million years feel like? A billion years, just staring at rocks sometimes crashing into each other and black oblivion? These endless months busting my flank, sweating like a pig just so I can eat in my own home? YOU KNOW NOTHING OF LONG!” Celestia roared. Ram Sea back peddled as the floor beneath her melted into slag. The Chef threw another barrage of celery sticks at the princess. They were a flash of orange as they neared her, and only small tufts of ash remained to break against the brazen armor.

In the span of a second, Celestia was in front of him. A second too late, the sheep tried to react. A golden horseshoe smacked him across the face and sent him sprawling to the floor. Ram Sea slid against the tile, his sword fish knocked from grasp.

“Pathetic... even for a mortal."

A carrot suddenly appeared in the eye slit of her helmet. Its point had come dangerously close to her eye. Celestia snorted and looked down contemptuously at the sheep who had thrown it.

“You’re going to have to do a lot better than that.”

That was until another carrot appeared in the other eye socket, cutting off her vision. Celestia grabbed at her helmet, trying to dislodge them with her hooves. The vegetables stuck fast, despite her best attempts at removing them with magic.

With a snarl, she ripped off her helmet. “You think this will stop me?” Celestia asked, tossing it away. Her eyes burned white hot, flames licking at her lids as she stared down at the defeated chef. “Any last words, my little sheep?”

“Yeah,” Ram Sea muttered, reaching a hoof under his kilt. He brought out a tiny vial filled with clear fluid. “Thanks for bein' such an easy target.” In one swift moment he had yanked out the cork with his teeth and threw the vial’s contents into the princess’s face.

She recoiled in shock as the liquid hit her.

Celestia’s tongue snaked out briefly to lick at the fluid on her lips. As soon as she did, her stomach twisted into a knot and her eyes widened in horror.

It began as the tiniest of sensations. The lightest of tingles on the tip of her tongue, that spread swiftly to his nostrils and crept into her eyeballs. It was gentle, almost feather like, but all too familiar. “What did you put into that vial?” Celestia asked with dread.

Ram Sea was rising on uncertain hooves, using his weapon as a crutch. “Extract of a Trinidad Morgua Scorpion.”

As much as she wanted to stomp out that smug look on the sheep’s face, she couldn't help keeping the admiration out of voice. This was a master stroke. “Well played, Head Chef, well played,” she congratulated him.

Then the heat struck.

The tingle which had been ever so light on her tongue and eyes suddenly erupted into an inferno, robbing Celestia of her senses. She gasped in pain, but the sudden influx of air only served to fuel the fire raging in her throat.

Her eyes and mouth streamed, and Celestia knew there was only one course of action.

“HELP!” Celestia screamed. She turned tail and sprinted for her lines as fast as her hooves would take her. “I’m on fire! Put me out! Put me out!” The impossible spicyness of the peppers the consumed her every thought except for the desire of Death’s sweet release.

Unfortunately, she knew he was on vacation this week.

“Water! I need water!” She shouted, suffering from her melting insides.

“Help her majesty!” MacApple grabbed Celestia and pinned her hooves to the floor. Eight of his stallions answered, and eight water balloon broke against the princess’s mug.

Celestia sat there in incredulous awe, with water dripping down her face and rubber clinging to her armor.

“…”

“…”

“NOW IT’S BEHIND MY EYES!” Celestia thrashed on the ground with renewed vigor. She clawed at her eyes, rolling on the floor as if her body was physically burning.

Her magic knocked out a nearby cook and seized her pie. Celestia slammed the pie into her face, burying herself in its coolness. She slowly felt the burn melt away, and she cooed in relief. She tossed the now empty tin away and merely basked as the chill seeped in.

“That… that feels much better.” Celestia wiped the whipped cream from her face. The dairy was doing wonders to extinguish the burn. The cooks still looked up, struggling to keep the smiles off their faces.

“What?” Celestia asked obliviously. “Is there something in my hair?”

Her hooves reached back for her mane, expecting them to pass through the crackling flames, but only felt smooth scalp. She magicked a hoof mirror from her room and checked her face, eyes widening to the size of saucers.

She was bald.

“My hair!” Celestia wailed, grabbing at her empty head. “My beautiful hair! Do you know how long it took to get it like that?!” She banished the mirror and sunk her face into her hooves. “Tell me, how bad do I look?” she asked the nearby cooks.

“It looks good, your majesty,” one cook offered, with a scrutinizing eye. “Very fearsome.”

“Really?” Celestia asked hopefully.

“Eh…. no.”

Laughter rippled through the enemy ranks, with Ram Sea’s being the loudest. Celestia felt her face grow red, and she snarled at the sheep.

“I’m going to kill you!” Celestia screeched, charging at him. Her horn glowed with arcane power as she prepared to obliterate the chef.

Then Ram Sea did something completely unexpected. He reached into his wool and pulled out a tiny whistle and blew. At once, cooks and veterans froze in whatever they were doing. Even Celestia screeched to a halt in surprise.

One of his cooks came running with a dish towel and Ram Sea used it to wipe the blue jam off his face. “Alright, let’s make it quick.”

Ram Sea was the last to leave the field, turning his back on Celestia.

“Get back here!” Celestia furiously shouted to him, “This is a perfectly good time for you to throw your life away!” Ram Sea ignored him, and the kitchen doors swung shut behind him, leaving Celestia to gape at him. To her incredible disbelief, her own soldiers began sitting down to chat amongst themselves.

She strode over to where Thunder Smith and MacApple were passing a flask back and forth.

“What are you doing?” Celestia hissed angrily.

“Why, waiting for lunch of course.”

“Shouldn’t we be… I don’t know…” Celestia offered sarcastically, “be using this golden opportunity to attack?!”

MacApple gave her a look of appall. “Wot? Whatever gave you that idea?”

“The fact that they have no defenses now!” Celestia said, pointing to the Kitchen’s unmanned barricades.

“But your highness, we’d never do that!”

Thunder Smith nodded in agreement. “Poor sportsmanship to attack the gents who are feeding you, especially while they’re making your foods.”

The princess dead panned expression spoke volumes. “…you’re being serious right now, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely.”

Celestia gave a frustrated scream and tried to grab at her absent hair.

Discord.

She knew she should have gone with Discord than rely on veterans, no matter how well trained they were. Sure, Equestria would suffer an eternity of illogical hell, but she would be able to stuff herself silly. Fat and happy, just like ponies and goddesses were meant to be.

Actually, it wasn’t too late for that. If she left now, she could still-

She was thrown out of thoughts as the palace’s maître d' cleared his throat.

“What is it now?” she asked wearily.

“Your highness,” The waiter withdrew a small notebook from his vest and looked at Celestia expectantly, “Head Chef Ram Sea is wondering what you would like for lunch?”

“…what?”

“It is time for lunch, and Chef Ram Sea is still responsible for all of your meals. Therefore, he wishes to know what you’d like to dine on today?”

Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, the princess figured a quick snack couldn’t hurt. Celestia thoughtfully placed a hoof to her chin as her eyes scanned the menu. “Depends. What would you recommend?”

“A light salad consisting of butter lettuce, watercress and parsley sprinkled with a lemon
vinaigrette.”

“Sounds wonderful,” Celestia answered automatically. She wasn’t even going to try to wheedle out something more.

The waited nodded and vanished back behind the great doors to the kitchen. Soon, the regular hubbub emanated from beyond them; the hissing of grills, the chopping of knives, and Chef Ram Sea’s sharp berating.

Waiters came and went, carrying meals that would go out to every part of the caste. Some would occasionally come out into the kitchen hallway to take orders from Celestia’s ponies and deliver them lunch.

Ram Sea himself came out of the kitchen after some time, carrying a covered dish on his back. So it was to his surprise that he found the sun goddess sitting on her haunches and silently banging her head against the wall.

“…what are ye doin', lass?”

“Just wondering where my life went so horribly wrong,” Celestia answered with a final thud before turning to him.

Ram Sea removed the lid with great flourish. “Bon appetite.”

Celestia stared impassively at the plate before her. The first thing to run through her mind was the surprise that they even made plates that small. The next: she was getting really tired of eating salads. It was exactly as the waiter had described, a small pile of lettuce and herbs.

Still, Celestia could appreciate the effort that the chef had put into trying to make this look appetizing for her.

She poked the salad with her fork, checking underneath a leaf. “You didn’t spit in it, did you?” she asked warily.

An offended sheep pushed the plate forward, his voice betraying the irritation his face did not show. “Ah am a gourmet chef in service tae the royal house. So no, Ah did not spit in ye food.”

Celestia gave a smile of relief of relief and took a first bite. It was delicious, as always.

“Ah had Soggy Grounds do it for me.”

Celestia eyes widened in shock and she spat out the lettuce and scooting away from the plate. It was only when she saw the ghost of a smile hovering around Ram Sea’s lips that she relaxed.

“That wasn’t funny,” she muttered under her breath and put the salad away with gusto.

“Really? Ah thought Ah was hilarious.” Ram Sea shot back. He kept a close eye on her as she ate, his eyes following her fork’s path as it went from plate to mouth. Celestia finished it quickly given her hunger and the portion’s size.

Ram Sea took her plate back, and cast a critical eye on the scraps that remained. “The verdict?”

“It was good,” Celestia admitted, fidgeting with her helmet. She stole a glance at the sheep’s face.

Ram Sea face was unreadable for a moment. Then he merely shrugged uncaringly and went back into the Kitchen. Plates were collected, cleaned, and stacked away by the kitchen staff, and armor was adorned again.

Eventually, Ram Sea at last came out with a fresh layer of blueberry paint spread across his face. He glanced at his watch again, frowning at the time. “Alright we should be good. Let’s get back tae it.”

“Yes Head Chef!”

Ponies paired up with whom they were previously fighting, assuming the same stance as when Ram Sea blew the whistle. Those who had been defeated flopped down dramatically and pretended to be dead. Ram Sea raised his swordfish in a fighting stance.

Celestia overlooked the paused combat. “Everypony good?”

There was a chorus of nods and agreements. Celestia smiled and turned back to Ram Sea.

“Alright then,” a bolt of golden magic blasted her head chef in the face, “Begin!”


*****


MacApple was a soldier.

One didn’t become a soldier in her Majesty’s army by being soft or gentle. Ponies did not go in foals and come out stallions. No, those pups were for the Royal Guard; a cushy, safe duty in MacApple’s opinion. No, to be a soldier, a pony had to be made of sterner stuff right from the get-go, and he was the sternest son-of-a-nag who ever set foot in the trenches. He was what was leftover when basic training and war had weeded out all inferior ponies. His rank and the stars on his lapel were a testament to that.

MacApple was old.

There was no shame in acknowledging the simple, irrefutable truth. He was well aware that he was no spring chicken. The pegasus had arthritis in the wings, two bum knees, and a catheter. He was at least thirty years out of shape, and hadn’t flown an inch in the past five.

That was why he was surrounded.

The old pegasus remained crouched at the ready, with his wings extended. An old habit that had been drilled compulsively into his brain since his cadet days. Keep the wings extended to seem intimidating, but don’t make yourself an easy target. Not that it mattered. At the distance the cooks were standing from him, it wouldn’t take a marksman to nail him.

They were four young and energetic chefs, all armed with an unreasonable amount of cooking utensils and pies. All MacApple had were the saddlebags at his side were filled halfway with water balloons.

It was hardly a fair fight.

“Just put the balloon down, gramps.” One of the stallion said, as they edged closer to the guard. “We don’t want to hurt you.”

MacApple kept careful watch on the two in his peripheral vision.

The elderly stallion held a hoof up to his mouth and gave a dry, hacking cough. He thumped his chest a few times to clear it, and winced slightly. The old ticker was acting up again on him. MacApple caught the cook’s look of concern.

“Funny,” MacApple acknowledged him with a small smile.

MacApple was Celestia’s general. He would not disappoint her.

The pegasus launched himself into the cook on his left, taking his foes by surprise.

The cook, in his surprise to the sudden movement, hastily threw his pie straight at MacApple’s head.

That was the cook’s first and only mistake. Without knowing if he had the range or the aim for a headshot, he had taken the shot. He had thrown away his only weapon. The cook would never reload in time, and MacApple would not make the same error.

MacApple hit the deck and rolled under the pie as it came flying to land smack dab in the chest of the stallion on his left. The cook fell to the ground, his weapon slipping from his grasp.

That was one.

The old general came up alongside the cook who threw it. He reached down and pulled a balloon from his saddlebag, tossing it into the air in front of him with his teeth. The cook made to turn around just in time to get a face full of latex and water as the balloon burst on contact.

That was two.

The third cook came charging at him, and MacApple grabbed ahold of his hoof, flipping him over his back in a perfectly executed throw. MacApple bucked the cook in the chest, throwing him into the body of the second cook. Three.

The last standing cook looked around frantically for a chance to escape, but there was none. MacApple had all the time in the world for him. The pegasus reached into the very bottom of his saddle bag and withdrew a colorful can. With a careless flick of his head, MacApple tossed it into the cook’s direction and the fool caught it.

The pony cried out as colorful snakes burst from the can as soon as his hooved touched, entrapping him in a mess of maniacal springs and tails. He tripped over his own hooves, landing ungracefully to the floor.

A twitch of movement caught the general’s eye. The pony who he had struck with the water balloon was still conscious and was trying to reach for the sole remaining pie left among them. MacApple was on him, kicking the pie out of the stallion’s reach.

MacApple reached beneath his wings and slid on a familiar device. He flexed his hoof before swinging it around and connecting it to drenched cook’s side. The pony’s entire body seized up as electricity shot through his body, and slumped back onto the floor.

MacApple gave a satisfactory nod and gave the joybuzzer an experimental tap. That was four.

To his distaste, he noticed that some specks of cream had landed on his armor and monocle. A quick wipe from his wings, and it was replaced with a satisfied nod. Far be it for him to be out of uniform in the middle of battle.

“It’s funny because I was about to tell you the same thing.” MacApple addressed the fallen cooks.

It had been an unfair fight. They should have brought more ponies.

MacApple’s ears twitched and he dropped into a stance. A hoof had stepped against the tile behind him. Apparently they did. Clever of this one, though. Striking your opponent when his back was turned. Underhanded, cowardly, but most of all, effective.

Quick as a manticore’s tail, MacApple spun around and lashed out with his wings, knocking the pony’s legs out from beneath them. He raised the joybuzzer, preparing to bring it down.

It took him a moment to register that the pony beneath was in fact a ‘she’. One of her leathery wings was bent at an unnatural angle from where she hand landed on it

Her eyes brimmed with moisture and she looked up at the general with aghast.

“Y-you’d hit a mare?” Lethe asked, her voice quivered with shock.

MacApple froze in mid-throw and the water balloon slid from his hooves. “N-no, of course not, ma’am. I can’t believe- I am so sorry!” the general stammered, clearly mortified at the implications. “Are you alright?”

Lethe nodded with a small frown, and took the offered hoof. MacApple helped her to her feet and Lethe dusted herself off, hesitantly extending her wings and looking furtively over them.

“Yeah,” she answered, her hoof still beneath the leathery membrane and out of McApple’s sight.

“I can assure you miss, that I’ll never do something like that again.”

The mare’s lips twisted into a smirk.

“No, you won’t.” Lethe told him.

The last thing the general saw was the two pies that appeared in Lethe’s hooves, to be brought together against his head a moment later.


******


“More tea, ambassador?” Feather Duster offered the pot.

“Why, yes. Certainly.” The speaker, an immaculately dressed griffin, offered his cup which the hoofmaiden topped off.  “Now let’s continue with...” The griffin trailed off before blinking owlishly at Prince Blueblood. He stole a sip from his cup in his talons. “You know, I’ve completely forgotten what we were just discussing.”

“The tariffs for the import of Prench socks, sir,” the maiden gently reminded him.

“Quite right. Now as you can see on page seven-” 

“Thank you,” Blueblood mouthed to her. Feather Duster smiled and refilled his cup, never once leaving the prince’s side. Blueblood smiled and turned back to the map on the table in front of them. The hoofmaiden had been absolutely invaluable to him, standing in for Princess Celestia with the same grace that his auntie possessed. More than once the griffin’s temper had been roused when Blueblood refused to budge, only for Feather Duster to disarm the situation with her gentleness.

The ambassador paused from his tea, his beak turned up. He took a cautious sniff. “Does anyone happen to smell smoke?”

Blueblood took a whiff, and grimaced at the acrid scent. Something was burning… surely not…

The prince leapt to his feet as the whole room suddenly shook. The griffin gave an indignant squawk as he was knocked out of his chair.

“Don’t be the castle, don’t be the castle,” Blueblood silently pleaded, walking to the windows. He groaned as a trickle of smoke snaked its way from a lower portion of the castle. There was another rumble; the teacups were practically dancing across the table at this point.

“I swear, if you just give me this, I’ll give up my playboy lifestyle for a life of piety...“ He paused, eyes glancing skyward “…on Tuesdays.”

“Prince Blueblood, is everything alright?” the griffin ambassador asked, leaning across the table to get a glimpse at what was happening outside. Blueblood hurriedly placed himself before the window in a vain attempt to block it.

“Yes, yes. Everything is perfectly normal!” he lied. As if on cue, there was another explosion and part of the castle caught on fire. A line of fire trucks and ambulances shot down the street, headed in the direction of the castle.

“…mostly.”

Nopony noticed as the teapot in Feather Duster’s grip shattered.


*****


“Fire in the hole!”

Celestia’s ponies watched as a hoof reached over the barricades and lobbed a lemon in their direction. One of them tried to kick it away, only for his hip to give out.  He landed face first near the fruit. Copper Kettle nodded in approval when the ensuing citrus explosion took out the clutch of soldiers manning a catapult. He slid back down to the floor, and threw away the wooden crate he had been holding.

“Well, that was the last of the lemons,” he said wistfully. “I don’t suppose we can throw pineapples at them, can we?”

“We’re looking tae maim 'em, nae kill 'em, lad.”

The sheep was sitting near the shattered remnants of a food trolley, letting the mare Pumpkin Spice treated his wounded eye. The skin around it was red and sore, making it painful for him to see. The battle had fouled considerably since Celestia’s underhanded shot at him. With their leader no longer leading the charge, the cooks took considerable losses to Celestia’s forces. Now, weary and tired, they were holed up near the kitchen doors while their defenses lasted.

“This is a braw piece ay work we found ourselves in, isn’t it?” Pumpkin Spice finished tying a wet dish rag around Ram Sea’s swollen eye. “Reminds me ay th' time Copper tried tae make pasta.”

The orange cook cringed. “I thought you promised to never bring that incident up again.”

Ram Sea smirked beneath his wool, and pressed a hoof to his bandaged eye. “Aye, but how could any pony forget 'at? Ah don’t think Ah’ve ever seen 'at much linguine in one place. In th' sink, in the ceiling, in th' freezer. And tae think it tried tae eat th' waiters!”

Copper’s ears dropped bashfully. “I said I was sorry.” The orange pony picked up another pie and threw it over the barricade. “I had no idea it was from Oxtria.”

Everypony, Ram Sea included, flinched as another pillow exploded nearby and shook against the barricade they were hiding behind. It would not last long if this kept up. Ram Sea drew his fish close, running a whetstone along its point.

Silver Whisk braced himself against the barricade as pots and pans clattered to the floor. He grunted, scraping his hooves against the tile. “You know, there’s just something I don’t get.”

Ram Sea didn’t even look up. “Not now, Whisk.”

“But this is really important-“

“Ah said not now!”

“Why don’t we have vacation days like the Night Guard?” Silver Whisk blurted out.

Ram Sea growled and waved his sword fish in a threatening manner at his underling. “So help me lad, Ah’m gonnae tae pit ye on a permanent vacation in th' unemployment line if ye don’t hold this buckin' line!”

“The Night Watch have vacation days!” Silver Whisk protested. There was a pause amongst the entrenched cooks as they mulled this over. All eyes turned to Ram Sea, who stared back impassively.

“Really? Ye lot really wannnae tae do this NOW?” he asked.

A bunch of nodding heads was his response.

“We’re a developin' third world country.” He admitted. “Also, how else do ye think we’re able tae have Disco night as often as we’re able tay?”

His cooks looked at each other and murmured in agreement. It was a fair trade, all things considered. The little gathering quickly scattered as another shelling of pillows burst over their lines.

They had been carpet bombing the cooks until Ram Sea had called another time out to chastise Celestia on her use of shellings. Rugs, and other carpet-related objects, could cause serious harm, and they had agreed to switch to the much gentler pillow.

They needed a plan, or this battle was lost. It just so happened that as Ram Sea sat and thought, one came to mind. 

It was crazy, it was insane, and it was suicidal.

Ram Sea liked it.

“Time tay run decoy,” His hoof jabbed at five nearby cooks. “Ye lot are with me. Th' rest ay ye grab th' wounded and' git behind those doors. This isn’t over by a long shot.”

“What?!” everypony screamed out in once. 

“Ye heard me, ye bamsticks! An' if somethin' happens, follow ye commander.”

The cooks looked at each other in confusion.

“But Chef,” Copper spoke at last. “Which one of us is the commander?”

Ram Sea wiped some of the jam off of his face with a hoof, then smeared it across the cook’s cheek. “That’ll be yee, lad.”

Copper just looked at shock at the sheep for a few moments. Then his hoof snapped into a salute and he nodded. “Chef… ye’re the' maddyest teutcher Ah’ve e'er known.”

The sheep gave his underling a savage grin. “Ah wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

Ram Sea and his cooks vaulted over the remaining barricades, running pell-mell towards the enemy line. “LET ‘EM HAVE IT, LADS!”


*****


It was glorious.

Celestia stood among the war machines, launching pillows enchanted with her own magic. She smirked beneath her helmet as she watched them zip through the air, only to come down on a group of hapless cooks. She watched them scurry like ants between the ruins of their defenses and the bodies of their fallen comrades. Their lines were beginning to break. Shame really. She was just beginning to get into her groove now.

“Run, little ponies…” Celestia whispered gleefully, her magic seizing another pillow. “Run!” She could not deny the twisted sense of pleasure at their failing, and she was quite finished with these insects.

Next time, she would have to bring a giant magnifying glass... now THAT would have been a sight to see.

Such thoughts would have once horrified her to no end. These were her subjects, after all. But things like remorse or mercy had been long since shackled deep within her. Left within the goddess was a snarling beast inside of it, and it stirred with a hunger to devour the sun.

Or at least every crumb in the palace fridge.

“What are the whereabouts of my sister and Hoofmaiden Feather Duster?” Celestia asked her communications officer. Her whole plan hinged on their absence from the castle.

“Word hasn’t come through from any of our agents.” Thunder Smith answered.

“Well get ahold of them!”

“I’m trying, your highness!” Thunder Smith fiddled with the radio knobs, frowning as only static reached him. He tried to wipe off his sticky hooves, disgust evident on his face. “They’ve jammed our signal pretty well. It’ll take me forever to clean up this mess...”

“What flavour is it?” Celestia asked, eyeing the jam covered radio hopefully.

“Schnozberry, your highness.”

Celestia shook her head in disgust and tried to hide her disappointment. Schnozberry was her least favorite. Curse that sheep for toying with her again.

“No matter,” Celestia said, as she looked on the battlefield. We’ll just have to finish this quickly then. Spread the word: we’re making the final push over their lines and-” Her eyes widened and the order died in Celestia’s throat.

Running pell mell at them was a group of cooks with blood thirst in their eyes and Ram Sea was personally leading the pack. To any other mare, it looked a suicide charge. One last final stand for a beaten force wishing to go out in a blaze of glory. Brave but utterly folly.

This was not that.

Celestia was not any other mare. Every hair under her armor was standing on edge.

Something felt horribly wrong.

They had already made it halfway across the hall before Celestia’s wits recovered. She grabbed a hold of Thunder Smith’s lapel’s, shaking him violently. “Take him down!” she ordered, sending pillow after pillow at the berserkers.

“Fire at will! Protect the princess!’ Thunder Smith shouted.

She watched a member of the kitchen staff fall, struck in the face by a water balloon. Another cook was slammed against the wall, courtesy of a pillow to the chest.

Soldiers flung themselves in the sheep’s path to slow him down, but it was all in vain. Ram Sea wildly swung his fish, clubbing every pony who dared to stand in his way. Celestia ripped away the pillow Thunder Smith had been about to throw and began charging it with as much magic as she could. But Ram Sea neared too quickly, and in her haste, she threw without thinking.

Ram Sea sliced the incoming pillow in two. An explosion of feathers erupted in Celestia’s face, obscuring her view. She looked around wildly for where he had vanished in this mess, but the cloud was thick. The ‘clickety-clack’ of his cloven hooves taunted her from all sides. Celestia snarled and lashed out with horn and magic, but struck at only air. Still his hooves kept clicking.

Then, without warning, it stopped. 

Celestia looked up.

Ram Sea had leapt up, above her head, above the cloud, and was now bringing down his sword. “This is for my milkshake!”

There was no escape.

Her horn gored through the center of the swordfish, spearing through it cleanly. He twisted the fish, causing Celestia’s horn and neck to follow. The alicorn gave a whinny of panic as her legs collapsed underneath her and she fell to the ground.

Ram Sea dislodged his weapon from her horn stepped onto the chest of the goddess, raising his trusty fish high for all to see. “Remember what Ah said, Celestia?” He asked, spittle clinging to his lips. He poised the fish above her neck. “There can be only one!”

With cry he brought the swordfish down on Celestia’s neck. Her entire body locked up from the jarring impact, and she was still.

Ram Sea looked down at his defeated foe, heaving as the blood lust still coursing through his veins. He looked at the old ponies surrounding him, and gave a savage yell.

“RAAAAAGH! Come and get some, ye raisin faced, dust bunnies!”

The stallions merely stared calmly at him, completely at ease. At the lack of terror on their faces, he scowled. “What? Have ye all decided tae go senile ay the same time?”

Thunder Smith pointed at the pony he stood on. He looked down at the yellow glow of Celestia’s horn and the dozen water balloons she held.

“Oh.”

Then he was blasted clear across the room.

The fleeing cooks watched as their Chef was launched high into the air, water clinging to his wool as he flew.

Lethe shot into the air, hooves outstretched. “I got him! I got him!” Her eyes widened as the sheep-turned-chef-turned-missle shot towards her faster than she had anticipated.

“Holy mother of-“ Lethe said as she was bowled over by a wooly projectile, knocking them both over the threshold. The doors to the kitchen slammed shut not a second too soon as dozens of water balloons made impact where they had been standing not a moment sooner.

“Somebody tell Princess Luna not to panic,” Lethe muttered as her eyes swirled in her skull. “I got her missing stars right here…”


*****


Interesting fact about wool; it shrinks. If you wash a sweater, and then dry it with heat, it will be considerably tighter than before. Just like how if a soaked sheep is exposed to an overly hot kitchen, his own wool starts to choke the life out of him.

“For the last time, Ah told ye Ah’m fine!” Ram Sea gasped out, as he clutched his chest. The sheep’s face was screwed up in pain. Ponies crowded around where he lay on the kitchen floor. Copper and Pumpkin Spice knelt beside him.

Pumpkin Spice frowned and tugged at her boss’s wool. “We’re running out of time. It needs to come off, now. He’s not going to make it if we don’t.”

Copper’s face was grim. “Someone get me a knife. I’ll do it- urk!” he gasped out as Ram Sea’s hoof grabbed him by the throat. The sheep was furious.

“So help me, if ye so much as 'hink ay shearing one strand off mah body, Ah’ll turn ye intae haggis!” He barked, violently shaking Copper. It took three cooks to save the poor stallion from the sheep’s grip.

Ram Sea threw the stallion down with a look of disgust and hauled himself up to his hooves. He would not sit on his flank like a lamb. There was no denying this was the endgame.

His chest was beginning to feel uncomfortably tight. His cooks were tired, and if the banging against the kitchen doors were any giveaway, than those codgers had somehow rigged up a battering ram. Sure enough, he watched as cracks slowly began to spread along its surface.

They had lost, but they weren't going to make it easy. Ram Sea looked at the gateway to his realm. He knew what must be done.

“Use th' Ovenger.”

A deathly knell fell over the Kitchens as all heads turned to look at the Head Chef. A sort of shock permeated each of the fighters as their minds tried to process the impossible request that had been given to them. It was Pumpkin Spice, the baker, who spoke first.

“Are… are you sure, Chef?”

“Just do it.” It was not a request.

That seemed to snap them out of it. Copper Kettle leaped onto a counter, calling out orders. “Sever those gas lines! Take those cookies out to cool! Put your backs into it and PUSH!”

Together, every mare and stallion pressed their bodies against the block of steel and shoved with all their might. Inch by inch, the artisanal beast that was the Ovenger was slowly pushed into place against the kitchen doors. And not a moment too soon, the crack of boards being ripped out was heard a split second later. Celestia’s forces were tearing down the kitchen doors.

Lethe wiped a bead of sweat off her brow. She turned to face the kitchen staff. “There… that oughta buy us a few minutes.”

No sooner had the words left her mouth that she was briefly aware of the sudden burst of heat, the thundering crash of metal shattering, and the shockwave that threatened to knock her off her hooves. She saw the look of horror on the cooks’ faces and glanced back at the doors of the kitchen. Just as she had expected, where the Ovenger once stood, there was no nothing more than a scorch mark and a very big hole in the wall.

“Well, I spoke too soon.”

A horror-struck Silver Whisk sunk to his knees. “You animals!” He screamed, slamming his hoof against the floor. “You destroyed it! You destroyed it all!”

The smoke cleared to reveal Celestia, her horn aglow with whatever witchcraft she had just used to destroy an innocent appliance. There was a manic glint in her eye, and an army at her back. She lowered her horn “Checkmate.”

Ram Sea teetered to his hooves, bleating angrily. “To arms! Make 'em pay for every crumb! Avenge it!” He flung himself at the closest soldier, ramming his head into the stallion’s gut.

The two armies fell upon each other at the breach viciously, their hatred rekindled. Skillets were swung against canes, whisk against walker, dentures flew and strokes were had.

Thick in the middle of it all was Private Lethe. The mare would seemingly pop up around the kitchen at random, throwing globs of cream into the faces of unsuspecting soldiers, having abandoned the pie tins entirely. She took down a stallion who had been aiming at the wounded Ram Sea, only to alert her presence to his friends. One stallion lunged with a joybuzzer, and she narrowly dodged under his hoof, then stepped inside his guard. Lethe reached on the counter behind him for a weapon, and smiled as she bit down on a handle. With a grunt, she smashed the veteran in the face with a frying pan hard enough to send the pony crashing into some nearby boxes of produce.

Lethe grinned and turned around to rejoin the combat... just to see a cluster of water balloons zipping in her direction.

The frying pan slid from her mouth as she gasped. There was no stopping it. They were too close. Even with her training, she’d never be able to get out of the way in time. Lethe screamed and threw up her hooves, covering her face.

Then her breath was stolen from her.

Just as the balloons were coming down, something slammed into her. The whole room spun as she was rolled across the floor. At last, she came to rest beneath a pony who stood over her, shielding her form with their own. Lethe looked up at her savior in awe. A pair of blue eyes stared back at her.

“Hop,” Lethe whispered breathlessly, in complete and utter disbelief. Then she gave a cry of delight and wrapped her hooves around his neck. “You... you big dummy! I thought I was a goner!”

“...can’t... breathe...” Hoplite rasped out, his face an unnatural shade of purple.

Lethe released him with a sheepish grin, and Hoplite wheezed until his fur turned white again. “Sorry! But you’re here and... and... you saved me!”

“Well yeah,” Hoplite bashfully turned away and rubbed the back of his head. “I sorta owed you a few of them to begin with.”

“This only counts as one. You still owe me two.”

“I guess this means I’ll have to start saving you more often,” Hoplite said, looking down into Lethe’s eyes. “Of course, we can just call it even if you-”

Lethe never gave him a chance to finish. The mare grabbed his shoulders and flipped him over, rolling the two of them out of the way. Not a split second later, a rain of water balloons crashed down where the two had just been. Now, there was a flabbergasted (and embarrassed) Hoplite now beneath a smug Lethe.

“You’re back up to three.” Lethe pressed a hoof to his lips, silencing him. “And just remember this; I’m always on top.” 

Hoplite nodded meekly and Lethe helped him to his hooves. The two looked to where the soldiers were storming the kitchen, and then glanced at each other.

Hoplite gave a good natured sigh as he put on his helmet. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“It depends,” Lethe pulled a pair of nunchucks from beneath her wings. She smirked at his slack jawed expression. “Does it involve copious amounts of flank kicking?”

“...I have one question.”

“You don’t want to know,”

“And that answers my question.” Hoplite grabbed an elderly stallion who had recklessly charged them, and swept his legs out from underneath him. Lethe beamed at her partner as she slammed a pie into the stallion’s face.

“I missed you so much.” Lethe whispered, getting back to back with him. She began to spin her nunchucks, gripping them between her fetlock and hoof. “It’s about time you joined the battle.”

Hoplite chuckled. “I was only gone for a few hours.”

“Too long. This job is boring.”

The nunchaku spun all around her body as she handled them effortlessly. Hoplite glanced back at her in surprise, only to receive a piece of wood in the face. He sank to his knees in pain, clutching his head.

“Well, at least you were wearing your helmet this time.” Lethe clucked, shaking her head before she leaped back into the fray. Hoplite gave a weary sigh and followed her.

Like he always would.


******


“The game is over,” Celestia decided, as she strode through the kitchens. Grease fires raged on stovetops, and fruit and vegetable alike were squashed under hoof. Her troops were dealing with the last of the Kitchen’s resistance. She would not lower herself to deal with such skirmishes.

Her eyes carefully appraised her spoils; delicacy upon delicacy had been made for tonight’s dinner. She would sample them all in turn but needed something worthy to begin her feast with. What caught her eyes the most was the tray of still warm chocolate chip cookies; the last thing to ever come out of Ram Sea’s Ovegner. Celestia licked her lips, her mind made up.

Yes, they would do quite nicely.

There was only one final obstacle in her way.

“Ah’m not… letting ye… get away with this…” Ram Sea heaved with labored breath. The battered and bruised chef had placed himself between the princess and prize. Celestia merely stretched out a hoof and poked the sheep’s chest. His knees buckled to the side and he collapsed. Satisfied, she stepped over his twitching body and to her prize.

Celestia snatched a cookie off the tray and held it to eye level. Bits of melted chocolate goodness oozed in the still warm delicacy. It was the most beautiful thing that Celestia had seen in a long time. She had lied, wasted millions of taxpayers bits, destroyed a significant amount of the castle interior and endangered the lives of dozens of ponies to get it.

Now she was going to savor every bite.

Victory, at last, was hers.























At least until Schwarzwälder smashed through the kitchen wall.

Bits of masonry exploded across the kitchen as the red stallion smashed Celestia across the room with all the gentleness of a wrecking ball. Celestia’s head cracked against the wall as he pinned her body against it. A bridle was fitted across his face, and her sister, astride the giant’s back, held the reins. Her sister was smiling gleefully as she snapped the reins, and Schwarzwälder gave a primal roar.

Flecks of spittle flitted across Celestia’s face as he bellowed at her. “PUT THAT COOKIE DOWN, NOW!”

The cookie numbly fell from her grasp as she trembled before the stallion. Her trainer gave an angry snort, and dropped the goddess to the ground. He reared up and crushed the fallen cookie with his hoof. Celestia felt her heart break that such beauty was so suddenly snuffed out from this world.

“B-but… h-how… Arcana…. enchanted… impossible…” Celestia babbled incoherently, as her mind attempted to process what was going on. But no matter how magical a race the alicorns were, some things were just impossible.

“Hah! Puny wall cannot stop Schwarzwälder,” the stallion boasted, flexing his forehooves. “It take more than brick and mortar to stop muscle!"

Hoplite leaned over to Lethe. “Weren’t those walls enchanted to be impregnable?” he asked.

The mare sighed and slung her hoof around his neck. “Hop... why are you still bothering to question the stuff that goes on here anymore?”

“It’s a legitimate concern that-”

“Shhhh,” Lethe hushed, “Just let it happen.”

By now, everypony in the kitchens had ceased fighting to stare at the sheer size of this newcomer. Celestia groaned and clambered to her feet, shaking off the dust that clung to her ruined armor.

Celestia’s eyes narrowed at the mare on Schwarzwälder back. “You…” she whispered dangerously. 

Luna paid no heed of her.

“Hah! At last, something of the old world!” the alicorn proclaimed joyously, as she descended from the giant’s back. She took in the scenes of varied destruction that dotted the kitchen, and nodded in approval. Those ponies who were still standing bowed their heads respectfully in the presence of the night goddess. “This pleases your princess! Do not let our arrival interrupt thy revel! The day is still young and more blood yet needs to be spilled.” She caught the looks that everypony gave her, and her smile began to fade. “Oh dear... I did not arrive too late, did I?”

“Well you see,” General MacApple said from where he was helping Chef Ram Sea to his hooves. “The battle is sort of over, your majesty.”

“Oh... I see. ” Luna took in the scenes of destruction in the kitchen. She gave a petulant hoof stomp and her lower lip trembled. “This... this is not fair!” she wailed at last. “All I want to do is maim and pillage! Is it really too late to join?” 

The sheep and the stallion looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. “Well,” Ram Sea offered, “Ah suppose we could always have a do over.”

MacApple nodded in agreement. “The boys and I wouldn’t be opposed to that. Provided, of course, dinner would be served.”

“Aye, Ah 'hink that could arranged.” Ram Sea said, still pulling at his shrinking coat. “Although we call dibs onnae th' big 'un an' Princess Luna.”

“Absolutely smashing. And the boys and I could help you dig some entrenchments!”

Celestia sat numbly on the floor, the conversation reduced to a din in her ear. She payed not attention to it, or the world around her. She could only think of one thing...

She had lost.

No matter how the goddess tried to move the pieces, the outcome was always the same. Her soldiers; defeated. Her plans; foiled. All her hours of scheming; wasted. To have come so far... so close...

No. It couldn’t end like this. She wouldn’t let it.

“It’s not over, sister.”

Celestia rose to her hooves, slowly spreading her snowy plumage. Then she cast her blade, conjuring a brilliant shaft of pure sunlight directly in front of her. Luna raised an eyebrow at her sister.

“Tia, what are thou doing?”

“Something that I should have a long time ago.” Celestia answered. Her eyes darted around wildly. “Enough games, enough tomfoolery, enough jokes. I’m going to stuff myself till I’m ready to puke and none of you are going to stop me.”

“Tubby princess should eat light meals before working out.” Schwarzwälder added from where he was still struggling to remove the bridle. 

“Shut up you stupid oaf!” she barked at Schwarzwälder. Her horn glowed and the trainer’s mouth turned into a zipper, which promptly shut itself. “Do you know how infuriating it is to work with you bunch of imbeciles?! All I wanted was some bucking food! But all of you ‘Noooooooo princess, you’re too fat to eat like normal ponies.” 

“Thou were the one who insisted to stick with this infernal diet,” Luna said.

Celestis said with a hysteric laugh. “And I’m through with it! I’m done! I’m done with all of you! All the ponies in this castle are bucking crazy!”

“Your highness, please calm down!” MacApple pleaded with an outstretched hoof.

“DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN!” Celestia screamed, her mane and tail erupting into a blistering inferno once more. MacApple scurried back as fast as he aged legs could take him. The goddess slowly edged her way back to the tray of cookies, her eyes and limbs twitching spastically.

Luna placed herself between her sister and the tray of cookies. She spread her wings and lowered her horns, her eyes locked on her elder sister. “Tia... stop this madness,” Luna warned. “I can’t let you go through with this.”

The white alicorn blinked in surprise, and then cackled again. Celestia’s horn began to glow, lighting the twisted smile carved into her face. “So you want to get in my way? That’s fine with me. You were going to be first anyway, little sister. I’m going to bind each and every one of you into the pits of Tartar-YOWCH!” Celestia yelped, as her head was suddenly yanked down to floor level.

Feather Duster didn’t say a word. She didn’t need too; her furious eyes spoke volumes. Celestia made to open her mouth, but Feather Duster’s magic gave a firm tug on the princess’s ear and she was silenced. At last, she turned to give an even glare at everypony in the kitchen.

“I leave for one day… and this happens?” Feather Duster didn’t yell. Instead, there was merely quiet disappointment in her voice. Ponies hung their heads and kicked their hooves awkwardly against the floor. “You should all be ashamed of yourselves. I want all of you clean up this mess, now.”

She gave a hard look at the two commanders. “All of it,” she stressed.

The sheep and stallion paled considerably.

“Yes ma’am!”

“Aye, what he says!”

With a satisfied nod, Feather Duster began to walk away, her magic still firmly gripping Celestia’s ear like a punished foal.

“Feather Duster I can- OW! You can just- AH! Stop treating me like a foal and let go of me– OWW!” Celestia screamed, as she hobbled along behind her hoofmaiden.

Everypony watched as Feather Duster disappeared around the corner, dragging Celestia with her.

A few moments later, Blueblood at the griffin ambassador peeked their heads through the wreckage of the door. The prince sighed as he took in the carnage. “Do I even want to know what happened?” he asked asked

Ram Sea was the first to recover. With all the grace of a chef befitting his status, he took a hold of his weapon and limped across the room to them. He plopped the now tenderized swordfish into the griffin’s claws and gave a satisfied nod.

The griffin looked down at the fish in confusion. “And what is this?”

Ram Sea smirked. “Dinner.”