Karphal and Crystal arrived at a hatch in the lower levels of the archives. Opening the hatch, the two of them peered down into the relative darkness of the tunnels below that served as the basis of all of New York’s infrastructure.
Crystal looked over at the gryphon. “You know I don’t do ladders.”
Karphal slung his rifle and hoisted the pony under one of his forelegs. “Guess you’re lucky I do.” With a swift motion, Karphal and Crystal descended the ladder in a quick slide, landing on a catwalk beneath them. Karphal grunted and hissed in pain from the impact to his shot-up legs.
“You sure the bandages and scabbie foam was enough?” Crystal asked, before looking at his surroundings. Various wires and cables ran above them.
“Yeah, I can still shoot.” Karphal looked to Crystal, who still had the PER DaTab on him. “Which way to the foundations?”
The teal unicorn hurriedly browsed the data, the slight orange glow casting his face in a sickly brownish hue. “Should be able to follow this tunnel...” He looked up at the piping overhead and then to some white letters painted on the walls. “East.”
Crystal led the way. His ears twitched as he stayed alert for any incoming danger. Soon the drone of water passing by reached the unicorn’s astute ears followed by the sound of two voices.
“I haven’t been able to get in contact with anyone since those dumb dogs ran back upstairs.”
“Probably just the concrete. You heard the main bomb detonate. Everyone’s probably celebrating our victory before we leave this antiquated hovel to burn.”
“You’re right, I’m glad to have been a part of this. We need to be able to let go and forget our past in order to truly be fit for conversion.”
Crystal’s ears pinned against his head. “PER,” he whispered to the gryphon, who simply nodded.
They rounded the corner to see a room with two large support pillars on either side of an aqueduct. A catwalk surrounded each pillar, including the one they were standing on. Off to the side was concrete balcony that had one PER, looking right at them.
“Gryphon! Over there!” he shouted and pointed, before ducking into cover.
A few potion round shots forced Karphal and Crystal into cover. Karphal looked around the corner of the pillar long enough to see where the other PER troopers were, behind a smaller pillar at the far end of the room, held aloft by the catwalk. Some more shots made Karphal duck back behind his own pillar.
Vickers pounded his fist into the ‘open’ button to the undigitized archive files. Various crates filled with documents that had been printed on Equestrian ink and paper sat out in a grid-like pattern. The layout was a monotonous stretch of boxes.
“This is going to be fun searching through,” Vickers said, rolling his eyes.
He turned left and then right as he jogged among the aisles, searching for one of the bombs. His head snapped from side to side as he scanned the area as quickly as possible. Vickers came to a stop, looking at the various identification numbers on the crates, certain he had gone in circles.
“How the hell did Willard always find his way around this stuff?”
He turned his head and saw a black box, about as wide as his chest and half as tall. It was bolted onto a wall between two stack of crates. He walked over and examined it.
“Okay, now...” Sliding off a panel, Vickers saw a clock ticking down from seventeen minutes. “Plenty of time.” His eyes scanned the series of wires. “Seven blue, eight red, four green.” Vickers instinctively tried running a hand through his hair, only to have his glove clang against his helmet. “Alright, V-600 series of demolition charges, rigged to blow up if you pull the wrong wires.” Vickers brought out his combat knife and used it to unscrew the plate next to the clock. “Alright, second green, last two reds, and then pull all the blues.”
Vickers proceeded to cut the indicated green and red wires, before pulling out all seven of the blue wires.
The counter on the bomb stopped, sixteen minutes. Vickers smiled. “Not even close.”
Shortly after the sound of an explosion, Sarah, Rendition, and the others were huddled in a corner.
“Why haven’t they come to take us away?” Sarah hissed, fearing the prospect of dying in a basement more than being a prisoner of the PER.
“I don’t know, but that explosion sounded either really close, or really big,” Rendition replied shakily.
The sound of someone sprinting came down the hall. Sarah walked up to the door and yelled at whoever it was.
“Hello? Please! Let us out!”
There was a moment’s silence. “Bertwell?”
Sarah nodded. “Yes, the PER locked us in here when they took the building.”
The footsteps stopped right in front of the door. “Step back from the door, if you approach, you will be shot.”
Sarah hastily stepped back, not wanting to know what a potion rifle would do to her now that she was already a pony. There was a series of beeps from the door and it opened to reveal nothing.
Jameson poked his head around the corner and saw the four ponies. “Bertwell, if that’s really you...”
“I was the one who convinced you to try writing poetry.” Sarah rolled her eyes.
Jameson stepped out into the doorway. “You four better get out of here, the PER’s set up bombs around the building.”
“I figured as much,” Sarah interrupted, prompting Jameson to lift up a hand.
“No time to take you outside myself. Head out the main doors and find somewhere safe away from here, preferably off street level. If you see JRSF, do not run towards them. We’re under orders to shoot anything that may be a threat, that includes ponies that might be with the PER. Just make yourselves visible and make it clear you’re not a threat if you need to come out.” He stepped back from the door frame and kept his rifle hovering between the four ponies, not letting his guard down.
Sarah and the others stepped out and walked cautiously towards a set of stairs before breaking out into a light trot. When they were out of sight, Jameson ran down the hall.
Lieutenant Karan entered the first server room. It held thousands of documents dedicated solely to the Human Archives Project. The hardware for the massive amounts of data was a series of white, two-by-one-by-one meter blocks that thrummed with their own fans in conjunction with several others around the room inside air conditioning units.
Karan lifted up his rifle and headed down the rows for a minute when he found the first bomb. He undid the panel and examined the layout.
“Fuck, this could take out half the building by itself.”
Wasting no time, he opened up the second panel next to the timer, looked at the wires for a few moments, then made the necessary cuts to stop the countdown.
Fourteen minutes.
Lieutenant Karan stood up, and he immediately dashed out of the room and across the hall to the second server room. He rolled his shoulders briefly before inspecting the room, heading towards the back. When he got there, he saw the second bomb and ran towards it.
His boots pounded the floor, sending mild jolts up his knees, when a white-armored arm swung out towards his neck. Karan barely had time to duck as the blade scratched his visor.
Karan turned around in time for a second slash to come towards his faceplate. He used the butt of his rifle to knock the blow off course before trying to aim his rifle at the PER.
The PER trooper kicked up, knocking the rifle out of Karan’s hand, and lunged at him with the blade. Karan grabbed the soldier’s arm and used the momentum, combined with his leverage, to flip him over onto his back. Karan pulled out his own knife and hopped away as the trooper slashed at his leg.
The enemy stood up and faced Karan for a brief moment, before going at Karan in a flurry of swipes that the lieutenant parried and dodged. The slashes were punctuated by stabs. Karan swiped the knife away from himself on a stab and grabbed the PER’s arm, twisting it. Karan gave a final jerk that made the PER trooper drop his knife.
The lieutenant brought his knife down towards the PER’s head, only to have the enemy slip out of his grip and tackle him. The two men wrestled over Karan’s knife until it was pointed at his chest. The PER started lowering the knife toward’s Karan’s heart, going for the killing blow.
“No salvation for you,” the trooper stated, “not after killing my men.”
Karan pulled the knife to the side, making it hit the concrete an inch from his side, then proceeded to punch the PER in the head. He regained control of his knife, twisted it around, and plunged it into the neck joint of the PER.
Karan pulled out the knife to a seeping of blood and got back to his feet. He picked up his rifle, leaving the trooper to bleed out faster than the potion could begin to have an affect.
“Next time, save your own ass.”
He returned to the bomb and diffused it in short order. Reaching to his helmet he radioed the others. “Karan in, I’ve diffused two of the bombs, but there are still hostiles, report.”
“Karphal here, pinned down by three PER, they’re dug in, and I can’t flank them.”
“I have my bomb diffused,” Vickers answered, “heading to Karphal’s position.”
“Jameson? What’s your situation?” The lieutenant was met with the click of a radio being turned off. “Jameson? Respond! Dammit! I’ll go see what’s happened to Jameson.” Karan cast one last look to the halted timer on the diffused bomb. Eight minutes.
Jameson ran into the art restoration room. Dozens, hundreds of paintings and statues from around the world had been brought to New York to be copied for transfer to Equestria. Each of the paintings was surrounded by an airtight Plexiglas case.
Jameson explored the room, looking for the bomb.
He found the bomb at the back right corner of the room, tucked beside a ventilation shaft and a wall. He undid the panel and saw the clock reading out eight minutes and twenty seconds.
Before he could expose the wiring he needed to cut, Jameson heard heavy footsteps come from behind him. His head poked up briefly, and he saw a diamond dog approaching.
Just then the radio in his helmet sounded off, making him duck just as the dog’s head turned towards him. “Karan in, I’ve diffused two of the bombs, but there are still hostiles, report.”
The footsteps halted for a few moments before continuing onward
“Jameson? What’s your—” Jameson clicked off his radio before the silence of the room from the footsteps stopping once more registered with his ears.
Jameson heard something sniff at the air.
As quietly as he could, Jameson weaved his way around various artworks, staying in a crouch. Minutes stretched as the diamond dog tentatively pursued the tell-tale signs of prey nearby. The light potion mist, and the full helmet meant that his sense of smell was heavily curtailed.
Another potion shot uselessly hit the pillar Karphal was hiding behind. The first bomb was right there, but it was covered by two soldiers firing at him from the catwalk.
“I can’t get a shot on either of them!” Karphal said, thoroughly frustrated. He poked his head out again only to immediately duck behind cover as shots from a third soldier in a balcony. The gryphon tapped a claw to his beak in thought before an idea struck him. “Crystal, I need you to keep the enemy on the balcony pinned when the others reload. I have an idea.”
Crystal nodded and Karphal focused on the distinctive click and hiss of the PER on the catwalk reloading. “Now!” He leaned out from cover and aimed above the PER troopers, at the cables supporting the catwalk over the stream of water. He shot at the cables and was able to shoot through one. The jerking motion caused the PER troopers to fall out from their cover. Karphal shot them as they tumbled down. The bodies slid down the ramp that had been formed and into the rushing water below.
“You got that other enemy pinned?” Karphal asked Crystal.
“Yes!” The unicorn floated up his pistol and squeezed off another three rounds.
“Good, I’m going to try and defuse the bomb.” Karphal swung around the corner and removed the first panel.
“What do you see Karphal?” Crystal asked.
“Nineteen wires connecting to a countdown timer,” Karaph responded. “Seven blue, eight red, four green.”
“V-600 series? Those are the exact same bombs the HLF tries to use!” Crystal reloaded his pistol as fast as he could before he resumed firing at the lone entrenched PER.
“Guess the PER forgot what irony meant.”
Crystal gulped as he began squeezing the pistol trigger a little more rapidly. “Alright, here’s the diffusion procedure: cut the second green wire from the top, last two red wires on the bottom, and then pull all the blue cables. And don’t screw up!”
“Got it.” Using his talons, the gryphon cut the first three wires and then pulled out all the blue wires. Six minutes.
The PER trooper poked his head out for a brief moment when his DATab beeped to tell him the bomb was defused. A lucky shot from Crystal passed through his visor and into his head. Crystal kept firing, thinking that he was still pinning the enemy before he looked out from behind his corner.
“Oh my,” the unicorn said as his lips curved downwards.
“Don’t worry about it,” Karphal chuckled, tapping Crystal on the withers with a claw. “Bringing irony to a firefight is a good thing.” He looked over to the other foundation pillar across the room, too far to jump with his shot wings and wounded haunches.
“How are we going to cross?” Crystal asked.
“I think the question is, how are you going to cross? Do pony parents ever throw their pegasus foals to help them start flying?”
Crystal stared at the gryphon for the seeming non sequitur, but then his eyes widened. “I’m not a pegasus.”
“But you’re light enough for me to throw.” Karphal put his rifle to the side and walked to Crystal.
“You sure you can send me that far?” Crystal was lifted up by Karphal, who stopped a few feet away from the catwalk edge.
“One way to find out.” Using what little momentum he could gain from his hind legs, the gryphon launched the unicorn across the gap like he had thrown so many objects when he was a hatchling.
Crystal flew though the air and barely made the edge of the catwalk surrounding the pillar. He ran around it and started working on the bomb. A few moments later he pulled the wires, stopping the clock at three minutes.
Jameson brought two fingers to his faceplate, made a kissing motion, then pressed the two fingers to the statue in front of him. “Sorry I couldn't save you,” he mouthed soundlessly.
Scuttling down the aisle, he paid attention to where the footsteps were following him. He reached the end of a row of statues and huddled down behind it, waiting for the diamond dog to round the corner. A grey paw encased in white armor poked into Jameson’s vision, and the private braced his rifle against his shoulder. The rest of the diamond dog came into view, and Jameson fired at the troll.
It wasn’t long for the dog to pinpoint his location and begin firing at the statue, forcing the private to get into cover. Jameson tried poking his head out, but was soon forced to blindfire. The diamond dog broke into a run, getting closer to Jameson’s position. He glanced one last time over the edge of the statue and smiled. He slammed his fist down on his detonator, blowing up his last brick of C4 just behind the diamond dog. The dog was sent to the ground, and Jameson came out of cover and finished it off.
He ran back to the bomb and unceremoniously ripped the panel off. He unscrewed the next panel with his knife and proceeded to cut the wires. The clock stopped, and Jameson allowed himself a small breath of relief.
“Four...”
He blinked his eyes to get rid of the sweat that tried pouring into them. “Forty seconds. Not that bad.”
He turned his radio back on. “Jameson here, I had to avoid an overgrown bulldog. Bomb’s diffused.” He heard footsteps heading towards his location as Karan replied over the radio.
“Shit, you know how to cut it close, don’t you?” Karan ran into the room and saw the blown up diamond dog. “Damn, Kibbles and Bits, anyone?”
Vickers, Karphal, and Crystal entered the room.
Karphal tilted his head as he glanced between Karan and the diamond dog. “Kibbles and Bits?”
“A joke, and one in poor taste.” Karan looked over to where Jameson stepped into view. “Out-fucking-standing. Now let’s get out of here, no doubt upper command is going to actually help us now that we solved this ourselves.”
In short order, they were walking out of the main lobby. They saw a crystallization team, technicians aboard a retrofitted firetruck brimming with chemicals meant to neutralize potion into something that could be handled safely. They met the group just outside the outer limits of the cloud of potion. Sitting beside it were the four archivist ponies, looking ready to pass out.
The soldiers saluted the officer who was riding on the side of the truck. He was in a fully sealed suit just like them, but was clearly older and them by a long shot from the greying hair visible through his visor and the chevrons on his suit.
Karan stepped forward, saluting again. “Lieutenant Karan reporting, we were able to stop the potion disperser, and we stopped a plan to blow up the archives.”
Crystal floated over the PER DATab to the officer. “The locations of the bombs are on there, maybe your tech teams can pull some useful data off of it.”
The officer grabbed the DATab and looked at the five soldiers, a slight purplish hue accenting their armor from running about the potion cloud. “Excellent work,” he said. “But we’re far from finished. We’re still trying to get a tally, but the dispersal units may have already converted thousands.”
Vickers looked off into the distance. Karan rolled his shoulders and lifted his rifle. Jameson and Crystal’s eyes widened. The very corners of Karphal’s beak, where his face met with the hard keratin, turned downwards as he scowled.
“But it could have been millions, and you did your part in preventing that.” The officer looked over them again. “Now get sanitized and recuperated before you’re called on duty again. You've earned some rest.”
“And by far the most sensitive issue for humans surrounding conversion, are the mental alterations it may cause. The pony limbic system is wired in such a way so that when conflict arises, we are far less likely to engage in physical violence. Evolutionary psychology has made ponies stilted towards acquiring as large a group of friends and companions as possible.”
This may to us seem unimportant, or that such a change is a good thing, but change can be frightening when it is so immediate, and so visible. In studying both human and pony literature and psychology, I found one potential reason for this. With such radical changes, humans fear that they will lose themselves in their entirety, that they will lose the ability to do what they believe is right. This fear is hardly exclusive to any single species.”
The five century old pony horror story, The Changing (a work which is steeped in absolutely no scientific fact), and the two hundred year old human horror story, Dracula (likewise without scientific basis), both involve a being which quickly and violently alters an individual. These individuals, once transformed into a changeling or a vampire respectively, become incapable of differentiating between right and wrong, and, due to their intrinsic nature, begin to harm those they once loved.”
The question then becomes how a proclivity to peacefulness might be thought of as a bad thing. Ponies have been blessed with a long-standing, albeit lukewarm, relationship with races, such as the gryphons, along with magic that makes it unnecessary to fight for long periods of time.”
But it is not difficult to conceive of a situation where conflict may be necessary. When the ability to go against one’s preferences is valuable. This is true of humans as well as ponies; multiple studies show that approximately 95% of all humans in their military require specialized training in order to avoid their gut reaction to simply shoot weaponry above the heads of enemy combatants.”
It is with this publication that I hope to foster understanding between ponies, both native-born and newfoal, and humans. So we may be able to work together as we realize we possess the same ultimate hopes, dreams and fears. That we may work together in the difficult and changing times ahead.”
— Twilight Sparkle, PhD.”
Twilight placed her quill on the desk and closed the book. Opening a cupboard, she slid the volume into it and closed it. Standing up, she closed her eyes and breathed softly through her nose as her lips turned upward. She opened her eyes and stepped out to the balcony, looking over the archives.
Hundreds of of shelves stretched into the distance. Twilight’s horn glowed briefly, and her cloak floated off to hang on a hook by the door. She braced her hooves on top of the railing and gave a content sigh. These works are safe, she thought. “Not even the princesses can stop what’s happening, but we can save this.” A shiver ran up her spine as she cast a glance back to her lab, where the generator and her book lay. “But it’s nothing compared to saving lives.”
Twilight stepped down from her balcony, and then up the tunnel back to the Ponyville Library.
Spike was putting some books on the shelves, reared up on his hind legs, and leaning against the shelf for support. He looked over at Twilight. “Can I help, Twi?” he got back on all fours and walked to her. His eyes were above hers when he stood like that.
“No, I just got down some important notes, the archives are still getting shipments regularly, no books have been stolen for months, no ponies have protested the continued expansion of the archives.” Twilight walked up the stairs to her long-abandoned loft and former bedroom. Spike followed. “Life seems to be going well, but, there’s just this pervading feeling... The barrier is still expanding, humans are running out of time, and I feel guilty that even if I fail to preserve their legacy, I’ll still be here, but they’ll be gone.”
Twilight walked out of a door and onto a balcony overlooking the late evening of Ponyville. The sky was hued a soft pink and purple, moving to a navy blue in the distance. A few of the brighter stars were shining down. Twilight heard the heavy thump of Spike sitting behind her. She looked back to see him casually leaning against the doorframe.
“Sounds to me like you need some way to relax.” Spike’s stomach growled. “Ehehe, food always works for me.”
Twilight smiled. “Sugarcube Corner should be open late today.” She turned around and headed for the door.
“Alright!” Spike’s legs coiled with strength as he braced himself to leap into the air.
“Nu-uh Spike, no taking off from the balcony, you’ll gouge the wood.”
Spike sagged as his eyelids hung in disappointment. “But I’ve been practicing, honest.”
“The door’s just as good, and you don’t end up having to fix the balcony that way.” Twilight and Spike walked out of the library to Sugarcube Corner.
A lone magelight hung by the door, glowing softly to indicate that the establishment was still open. In the side alley, a few foldable tables and stools had been set up for customers to dine outside. Twilight stepped inside the building. The bell rang as the door opened. Looking around, the mare and dragon saw that the counter was empty, and Pinkie Pie was chatting with Applejack, Brigitte, and Wilhelm.
Pinkie looked over at Twilight, slid over to her so fast she may as well have teleported, and smiled brightly. “Hi Twilight! Hi Spike! Finally got out of your cave I see? What can I get for you?”
Twilight giggled. “I’ll have a piece of carrot cake please. Spike?”
“I’ll have some cherry pie with a ruby on top,” Spike answered, walking over to Applejack and the others.
“I’ll be just a minute!” Pinkie announced, snapping off a salute and making her way to the kitchen in a blur.
“That Pinkie,” Wilhelm said, shaking his head. “She’ll get arthritis before she hits her triple digits the way she goes.” Twilight sat across from Wilhelm, beside Spike. “Ah, good day Dr. Sparkle, how goes the archives?”
Applejack chuckled and elbowed Wilhelm. “Come on now, you’ve known Twi long enough that you can put all that ‘doctor’ stuff on the backburner.”
“Yes well.” Wilhelm reached up with a fore hoof and brushed at his blue mane. “How long has it been since the archives started?”
“Good question,” Brigitte said. Leaning over to a glass of peach juice and sucking at a straw, she awaited Twilight’s response.
“Let’s see, ten years ago, right around the same time as conversion bureaus were getting started.” Twilight looked over at Spike, who nodded in affirmation.
“Yep,” the dragon said. “Ten years ago, my world was turned upside down when I ended up going to the diamond dogs with Twi and some of the royal guard to try and hire them. Now, I have bunch of troglodyte canids gallivanting around in my basement.”
“Spike!” Twilight scoffed. “That’s rude, good use of vocabulary, but rude.”
Pinkie Pie stepped out of the back room. Two plates with Twilight and Spike’s food on top of them were balanced on her back. She stepped up, and Twilight lifted the plates and set them in front of Spike and herself. Pinkie pulled out two forks from her mane and gave them to Twilight and Spike. Sitting on a nearby stool, Pinkie observed the conversation.
“Thanks Pinkie.” Twilight turned to the rest of the group. “Ten years, when Celestia asked me to arrange for housing human documents, I was thrilled.” Twilight rolled her eyes. “Pretty soon I felt overwhelmed, luckily, volunteers were forthcoming, and I was able to head to Earth for a few years to learn about human culture, so I could apply it in my work here.”
“And it was a really, really, super duper, ultra long time before you came back!” Pinkie interjected, hopping off her stool and embracing Twilight. “And I met all these really cool new ponies who have just been swell to be around!” She gasped. “I thought all about where they came from and decided I wanted to see where they came from!”
“Hehe, yeah Pinkie,” Twilight giggled, allowing the pink lump to continue hanging off her neck as she took a few bites out of her carrot cake.
“It was so neat! Humans are tall, and they make lots of neat machines. Little quiet though, but that’s alright because they can be so nice! Like this one chef I met who had to work with food made from kelp, nothing but kelp, all the time! And they managed to make so much food with just that one thing! That’s determination and ingenuity! And the music could get so loud!”
“And the fashion!” came Rarity’s sing-song voice as she and Alan Topatz walked through the door. Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, and Big Mac filed in behind them.
“Oh hey guys,” Twilight said happily, shifting over to the side a little to make room at the table. “Pinkie and I were just reminiscing about when she decided to ‘drop in’ on my university education.”
“Yeah, drop in on you and scare the living daylights out of us,” Rainbow Dash said, rolling her eyes. “We were worried sick about her when she left so suddenly. We thought she’d wandered into the Everfree until the Cakes told us what happened.” Rainbow took a seat at a booth with Big Mac. “Cherry soda please, I’m parched.”
“I imagine,” Applejack said, smirking. “How was the hay loft?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rainbow Dash said, against Big Mac’s light blush.
“One cherry soda, anypony got a hankering for anything else?” Pinkie asked.
“Alan and I will have some tiramisu and coffee please,” Rarity answered, taking a seat with her husband at another booth. Pinkie Pie excused herself from the room to fetch the requested refreshments.
“Sure ya don’t, Rainbow.” Applejack reached a hoof over Wilhelm’s shoulders and continued. “Y’all were inconsolable when you thought Pinkie had gone missing. Mac was your rock in that first week.”
“And I’m really sorry that I made you think I had left forever!” Pinkie said as she walked back out of the kitchen, head hanging low.
“It’s alright Pinkie Pie, you came back with Twilight!” Fluttershy consoled from next to Rarity’s booth.
“And a court request to never enter the city of Boston ever again!” Twilight added, prompting the group to laugh wholeheartedly.
Wiping a jovial tear from her face, Pinkie giggled, “Ten years, and we haven’t celebrated it!”
“You make a good point, darling,” Rarity said. “Ten years for anything is a long time, maybe we should find a way to celebrate.”
“Well...” Twilight reached a hoof to her chin. “I suppose all the volunteers at the archives deserve something special for their efforts.”
“We could have it in the building where the farmer’s market is held sometimes,” Topatz suggested, earning nods and words of support from several others.
“Would this be open to the rest of Ponyville?” Applejack asked. “It’d be a good opportunity for others to learn more about the archives.”
“That sounds like a great idea, Applejack.” Twilight took one last forkful of carrot cake and swallowed, nodding eagerly.
“Yes,” Brigitte said. “We can help with the catering.” She indicated herself and the other members of the Apple family present.
“And Alan and I can provide any monetary needs.” Rarity pointed a hoof at herself while gazing fondly at Alan, who nodded.
“And I can get all the games while Fluttershy has her bird choir sing for the occasion!” Pinkie exclaimed, breaking into a cartwheel and grabbing some papers from behind the counter.
“Sounds like a plan,” Twilight responded amiably.