//------------------------------// // Ch9 Tidbits [edited] // Story: Jake and the kid // by peter //------------------------------// Jake and the Kid Chapter Nine Tidbits Princess Celestia was a master of delegation. The actual amount of paperwork that needed her personal attention might have been minuscule compared to what the government as a whole generated on a daily basis, but there were thousands of clerks handling the government’s load and only one of her. There were times when there just didn’t seem to be enough minutes in the day to go through everything. At times Celestia was tempted to keep the sun in the sky just a little bit longer. On the other hand, the thought of simply putting it off till the next day had not crossed her mind for hundreds of years. Celestia had learned a long time ago that untended paperwork had a bad habit of breeding in the dark. The little bit you left for tomorrow would grow to consume the desk and creep out into the hallway before you knew it. That was why she was currently walking down the hall to her office surrounded by a blizzard of paper held aloft by her magic as her personal secretary, Paper Pusher, trotted along beside her collecting each document as she signed them after a careful perusal. Despite her preoccupation, she did not fail to graciously acknowledge Private Sweets and Private Stone at the guard position in front of the door to her private study as she swept past them. They gave her carefully controlled nods in return, while never ceasing their scanning of the hallway for potential ninja-pony assassins. In the back of her mind, Celestia noted that this pair was even stiffer than was the norm for her guards. She passed it off to their youth. They would learn how to relax while maintaining total attention and respect in time. Upon entering her office, however, she decided that there might have been more to their behavior than simple youth and inexperience. Her office, was without too much exaggeration, trashed. There was hardly a book left on a shelf, instead, they were scattered across the floor in random stacks, each one teetering on the brink of instability. Celestia had a feeling that if she were to stamp her hoof she’d create a paper avalanche of epic proportions. Beside her, she heard Paper Pusher give out a cry that was half horror and half sob. ‟You don’t need to see this, Dear,” Celestia said in a gentle tone, shifting one of her wings to hide the devastation from her secretary. Celestia looked across the chaos to her desk, which was ground zero. Her sister was slumped forward over the top of the hoof-carved edifice, her head twisted to the side, snoring quite audibly due to the uncomfortable position. A rather impressive spit bubble was inflating and deflating as she breathed in and out. To the side of her head was a takeout box from Pony Joe’s, large enough to contain a dozen of his premier donuts. A takeout coffee container of impressive size lay drained of its very essence and thrown casually to one side next to the empty box. Luna’s hoof was resting on a rumpled brown paper bag, no doubt containing other smuggled confections. A vein in Celestia’s forehead twitched as she spotted her empty BKC tray among the other debris. Hovering over this scene of culinary destruction was Luna’s hoofmaiden, Laminia, who had been in the process of laying a blanket over her sleeping princess when Celestia had entered. She looked torn, unable to properly bow with her hooves full of fabric, and clearly not wanting to disturb her mistress. Celestia gestured to the door while mouthing, ‟Join me”. The Solar Diarch retreated, shooing Paper Pusher out with her as she went. ‟Oh, Princess, the horror!” Paper Pusher gasped before Celestia silenced any further hysterics with a hoof. ‟Shhhh. It will be fine. Go and gather a team of clerks. Double-overtime with weekend differential is authorized as of this minute. It’s three hours till moonrise. We’ll let Luna sleep till then.” (1) Paper Pusher turned and scurried frantically down the hallway to rally the troops, passing a rather bulky Nocturne guard coming the other way. ‟Ah, Optio Pumpernickel. When I saw your spouse inside among the chaos I was wondering when you would be joining us,” Celestia said, as she acknowledged the off-duty Nocturne Royal Guard who had approached on silent hooves and knelt to her. To one side, Private Sweets and Stone fairly twanged with nervous tension while remaining as immobile as statues. ‟Princess Celestia, my wife grew concerned when she discovered Princess Luna had not returned to her rooms. She insisted on coming to check on her, and I accompanied her. Voluntarily. Is everything to Your Highness' satisfaction?" he asked, with the smallest of sideways glances at the two nervous guards giving the unspoken implication that the answer had better be 'Yes' or certain things would be rolling downhill. Just then the door to Celestia’s office opened slightly, and Laminia eased out through it, a crumpled paper bag in her mouth. The taller of the two guards gave a slight gasp, and swayed on his hooves. Pumpernickel barely got there in time to stop him from doing a muzzle-plant on the shiny floor. ‟Sweets! Pull yourself together, Guard!” The tall pegasus got his gangly legs back under him and gave a salute. ‟I’m fine, sir. Your pardon, Princess.” His words were belied by the fact that he was still more than a touch wobbly and his face rather resembled someone who was expecting Divine Retribution to fall out of the sky at any moment. Celestia’s expression firmed and she began to snap out orders in a very quiet, but firm voice. ‟Optio Pumpernickel. You would be so kind as to take Private Sweets’ post.” She turned to the other guard, who was doing his best, I’m just a statue, no one here impression. ‟Private Stone, please report to the watch commander. Tell him that a new set of guards are required for my office door for the rest of the day shift, then accompany Optio Pumpernickel to join us in the Blue Salon. Laminia, if you would be so kind, run across to Pony Joe’s and pick up three extra large to go. Black, extra strong. Private Sweets, you are with me!” With that Celestia turned and walked a few doors down the hallway before entering one of the sitting rooms used for semi-formal meetings. ******** Twenty minutes later, Pumpernickel, accompanied by an obviously reluctant Private Stone, eased through the door to the Blue Salon. The heavily built Nocturne stallion scanned the room. His wife had obviously moved quickly, Private Sweets was pursuing the bottom of his coffee with deadly intent while Princess Celestia watched with a stern expression. Clearly, she had put her hoof down in the matter of Guards eating or drinking while on duty. Having witnessed Sweets’ red-rimmed eyes and being aware he was working a swing-shift, Pumpernickel understood her reasoning. What was far more puzzling was the fact that the love of his life was standing in the corner behind Princess Celestia, her head pressed firmly against the walls. While he would not put it past either of the Princesses, he could not think of a single reason Princess Celestia would have made Laminia stand in the corner. ‟Ah, good. Have a coffee, Optio Pumpernickel.” As it was obviously not a suggestion, Pumpernickel popped the top off of one of the containers and took a good swig of the black nectar. He didn’t really need it, he was fully capable of operating at peak efficiency for two days without the need for sleep if he had to. Still, the bitter brew did put a bit of a spring back into his step. ‟Now, to get back to the matter at hoof. Private Sweets had just gotten to the point where Princess Luna sent Councilpony Storm Warning out to get coffee and donuts." Over in the corner, Laminia let out a loud snort, and her sides heaved with badly suppressed laughter. Pumpernickel was made of sterner stuff, or at least had the benefit of months of practice in maintaining a stoic attitude. He merely twitched a single eyelid. Inwardly, he cringed. Princess Celestia was clearly in a fey mood, while in a way that was a good thing for Private Sweets and Stone as far as their career in the Guard went, it did not bode well for their future mental health. ‟At that point, Private Sweets, you informed Princess Luna that the Coucilpony would be unable to comply with her request because our special blend does not travel well?" Sweets nodded, his expression one of misery. ‟Setting aside the matter of you offering unsolicited culinary advice to our sister, did it occur to you that Pony Joe offers many other blends, some of them quite strong, that will not eat through their container if not ingested quickly? Do take another swallow, you are starting to look peeked again, Private.” Sweets gulped a mouthful of hot coffee while shaking his head, resulting in minor spillage. ‟Very well. It was at this point, We understand that Princess Luna sniffed out your illicit contraband?” Sweets winced but nodded. Pumpernickel’s expression stiffened. ‟You have a question, Optio Pumpernickel?” Celestia asked, without needing to even look in his direction. ‟Yes, Princess Celestia. Contraband?” ‟Apparently Private Sweets brought some illicit candies on duty.” Pumpernickel relaxed slightly. A misdemeanor that would normally not ‘be seen’ by the Officer on Duty, unless the guard in question was blatant about consuming them. Sweets could look forward to a long ‘conversation’ with the Officer on Duty, but his career was likely safe. The Princess then turned her attention back toward the hapless Private Sweets. ‟At this point you offered our sister the untested comestibles, claiming that they were as effective as a good cup of coffee in keeping one alert?” Celestia floated a rumpled brown bag off the table beside her and into the air space between her and Sweets. It opened and two wrapped candies emerged. ‟These candies, in fact?” Sweets nodded, drawing into himself as best he could while remaining at full attention. Pumpernickel was watching the whole thing with the sort of fascination one might experience on seeing a small animal cornered by a predator. At any moment he half expected to see Celestia lick her chops in anticipation. ‟While the wrapper seems familiar,(2) We are not aware of any candy currently available that makes that claim. Where did you acquire them?” ‟It was a rejected masterpiece submission to BKC, Princess Celestia. My cousin was given some by the journeymare who made them,” Sweets said ‟Rejected?” In front of Celestia, one of the floating candies unwrapped itself. The Princess examined it for a moment, and then popped it into her mouth before anyone could react. She bit down and a moment later her face lit up with an expression that had Pumpernickel blushing, mainly because he’d seen a similar expression a couple of hours previously on Laminia’s face, and it had not been the result of eating a piece of candy. ‟Rejected?” Celestia repeated in an incredulous tone of voice. ‟BK must be stampeding in his grave.” Celestial floated the empty candy wrapper up in front of her face for a closer look. ‟We have seen this before. We believe that the Element of Laughter has gifted us with candies bearing a similar wrapping. The maker lives in Pinkie Pie’s home town we believe. Laminia, Pumpernickel, you’ve both been to Ponyville recently. Do you concur?” Celestia floated the empty wrapper over in front of Laminia, who had withdrawn her head from the corner. The wrapped candy she floated over in front of Pumpernickel for inspection. Both Nocturne examined the sample in front of them. ‟I’m not an expert, Princess Celestia, but it does look familiar, and it could have been Ponyville where I saw it,” Pumpernickel answered. ‟I may not be an expert either, but I am sure. This is from Bon Bon’s candy shop.” Laminia said, as she leaned forward and took a good sniff. Her eyes widened, and for a moment it looked like she was inclined toward snatching the wrapper out of the air. Pumpernickel grinned inwardly as he thought about the wrap albums(2*) Laminia had stashed in the back of their closet. The ones she didn’t think he knew about. The ones devoted to ‘unique’ delights of the romantic variety. ‟Ah, now we are getting somewhere. Private Stone,” Celestial said, turning the full force of her gaze on the hapless private who up till now had believed himself out of the line of royal fire. ‟Does all you have heard here agree with your recollection of events?” ‟Sir, Yes Sir!” Private Stone snapped out and then went red as a beet through his bleached hide. Pumpernickel had to fight down the urge to slap his forehead in exasperation. Celestia maintained her calm, while her sparkling eyes showed her amusement. ‟Very well, you may leave, Private Stone.” The lucky guard pony could not have vacated the premises more rapidly if his tail had been on fire. ‟And that leaves us with you, Private Sweets, and the issue of smuggling unregistered sweets into the castle, and supplying them to my little sister.” Sweets fell to his knees, his long forelegs outstretched. ‟Please, Princess Celestia, I promise I’ll never break a rule again, ever. Don’t kick me out of the guard.” ‟Oh, do stand up, Private. You are taking all the fun out of this,” Celestia said with a giggle. ‟You are not going to be punished. But, only the four of us in this room are going to know this. To all others, we have been enraged by your careless behavior in providing our sister with an unknown and unauthorized comestible. As such we are going to summarily suspend you for one month without pay. Only the ardent defense on the part of Optio Pumpernickel prevented me from outright banishing you from Equestria.” When it looked like Sweets might very well collapse at any moment, she softened her voice and continued. ‟Do not be concerned. Once the current crisis is over you will be recalled with full back pay, and possibly a bonus if your performance pleases us.” Celestia lowered her voice, and her horn gleamed gently. Pumpernickel did not miss the matching glimmer that coated the walls of the room. They were now insulated completely from the outside world. Only then did she continue speaking, ‟There is a situation in Ponyville. We feel it is vital that there be a guard presence there in case it is needed. At the same time the greatest need, at least for the next week, is complete secrecy. To send a detachment, or even a pair of guards openly would invite speculation that could lead to disaster. For that reason, I have a task for you. We wish you to travel to Ponyville, and order more of these chocolates.” she floated the still wrapped candy over to Private Sweets. ‟You have tasted them. Make sure the candy maker can duplicate them reliably. If she can, you are authorized to give her a royal contract to supply us personally, and by us, I'm including my darling sister, who most certainly will have words with me if I were not to share my bounty." Private Sweets took the candy, his entire body reflecting his profound shock at the speed of events and the situation as a whole. ‟You wish everyone to believe me suspended from the Royal Guards so I can go undercover to buy you candy, My Princess?” he asked in disbelief. ‟Do not be silly, Private. I have ponies to do that sort of thing. No, I want you to go to Ponyville to provide protection for a pair of recent immigrants if it proves to be needed. The candy buyer aspect is merely your excuse for being in town.” ‟Won’t suspicions be raised by a guard so recently suspended showing up in Ponyville, looking for the candy maker whose product caused his punishment?” Pumpernickel asked, feeling that if he was to be involved, even if only peripherally, in this madness, he should take steps to make sure it did not fall apart. Celestia seemed to think about that for a moment, not as if seeing it as a problem, but rather as if savoring the entertainment value inherent in that scenario. She shook her head, dismissing the idea, with maybe just a hint of reluctance. ‟That will not be an issue. As I said, Sweets will be traveling undercover. He will not be recognized.” ‟Setting aside his size, his bleached hide is a dead giveaway. Everyone knows it means Royal Guard.”(3) Pumpernickel said, continuing to play Discord’s advocate seeing as how Celestia seemed willing to allow it. ‟Already considered. After we are done here, Private Sweets, you will report to the Royal Theater. They have been told how to prepare you for your role. They do not know why. You will not tell them. You will not tell anyone outside this room other than Princess Luna.” It was dawning on Pumpernickel that this was not some off-the-cuff scheme. Oh, the whole candy situation was serendipitous, but the princess knew too much about Sweets, had too much already prepared. She had intended to use the over-sized Royal Guard pony for whatever this mission was all along. He could not help wondering what other excuse had been prepared in order to justify suspending Sweets from the guard for the needed time, and which had been rendered unnecessary by the current circumstances. ‟Now, here is what is going on, and what you are going to do,” Celestia said. *************** Pumpernickel, Laminia, and Sweets exited the meeting room, all three wearing dumbfounded expressions. ‟That is--” Sweets was cut off as both Laminia and Pumpernickel slapped a hoof over his mouth. ‟I’m sorry as all heck about this, Sweets, but Princess Celestia is in one of her moods. I’ll have to escort you to the OD. Please don’t say anything that might make her even angrier.” Pumpernickel said, both falling into his role, and dropping a not so subtle hint for Sweets to keep his mouth closed. As her husband led the drafted private one way down the hallway, a rather shell-shocked Laminia stumbled over to Celestia’s office and passed between the two rigid guards who were making a particular effort to project an aura of Guard-like perfection. They didn’t have a clue as to what was going on, but they were taking all steps possible to avoid being downwind of the fan. ********* A few minutes travel outside of the Everfree forest two friends were having a heartfelt goodbye. ‟You be a good boy for Applejack and listen to everything she says, you hear?” Curry mumbled into Jake’s muzzle as she hugged her arms around it. Jake looked into her eyes with one large gentle brown orb from a few inches away, blinking away a tear. ‟I’ll be good. I promise Curry. You come and visit soon promise.” ‟You bet. Soon as I can. I’ll be over to see how you’re getting on, and to make sure you haven’t eaten every single apple at Sweet Apple Acres. You mind what I said. You don’t eat nothing they don’t offer, you hear me?” ‟I’m a good boy,” Jake protested. ‟Only when you don’t let your belly do the thinking, yuh big galoot.” Curry stepped back, keeping the palm of her hand on Jake’s nose for a moment before dropping it. The two friends stood facing each other, neither one wanting to be the first to turn away. The tableau was finally broken when Rainbow Dash fluttered down between them, knuckling Jake in the side with one hoof while ruffling Curry’s mane with another. ‟Well, I got to go. Got to make sure my team hasn’t been sleeping on the job. Was interesting as all heck meeting you two. I’ll be around to visit soon.” With that Rainbow took off straight up, leaving a cloud of dust behind. Curry stumbled backward, a hand over her nose as her eyes tracked the rainbow contrail streaking across the sky. ‟Whoa, is she ever fast,” she said in amazement. ‟Fastest in Equestria. But don’t ever let her know I said so,” Applejack said as she trotted up beside Jake and facing Curry. ‟I do need to get back to the library so I can start doing some research on you and Jake, Curry,” Twilight said as she trotted up and gave Jake a goodby nuzzle. ‟Spike and I’ll walk with you and Fluttershy as far as her home.” Pinkie Pie bounced up and wrapped her front legs around Jake’s neck, having to go up on the tiptoes of her rear hooves to do it. ‟I have to get back to the Cakes. I promised to look after the twins this afternoon. And then there is so much that has to be done before the end of the week. I don’t know where I’m going to find the time. Maybe I’ll have to make some if I remember the recipe, though I did promise the Doctor I wouldn’t do that anymore, so maybe I’ll just have to rush real fast.” Pausing only to give Curry a soft pat on the head, Pinkie dashed off in a cotton candy scented cloud of dust. Rarity trotted up and gave Jake a pair of air kisses, and a fond caress along the cheek before turning to face Curry. ‟I, for one, am coming with you to Fluttershy’s as well. We simply must arrange for some proper garments. Fluttershy, dear, do you still have those bolts that the girl’s tried to dye? The ones I gave you for nesting material?” ‟Oh yes, it was too late in the season for nesting, I was saving them for next year,” Fluttershy said, not quite meeting Rarity’s eyes.(4) Applejack looked up at Jake and told him, ‟Come on, big guy. Let's get you up to the farm and introduced to Granny Smith and Big McIntosh so we can get you settled in.” She bumped his leg with her shoulder to get him moving. Curry had to fight down the urge to run after Jake as he started moving away from her. Only Fluttershy’s presence beside her gave her the strength to stay put. Still, she kept her eyes on his retreating figure till he walked down over a dip in the road and vanished from sight. She hadn’t really understood why Twilight felt it better to separate them, but as a kid, she was used to having adults rearrange her life for incomprehensible reasons. ‟Come on, sweety. Let’s go home, shall we?” Fluttershy said in her gentle voice, lightly nuzzling Curry’s cheeks, and wiping away a few tears at the same time. Curry’s felt a warm glow of pleasure and comfort at the yellow pegasus’ words. Home, she had a new home. ******* Fluttershy’s home was amazing. Never in her wildest daydreams had Curry ever imagined anything like it. On the outside, it looked like someone had shoved a house into a hill, on the inside it was all nice clean woodwork. And the critters. There was every sort imaginable, with their own little dwellings inside the house, and small stairs and ramps winding all through the living quarters. And they were all so welcoming. It was like something out of a Disney Princess movie, right down to the friendly critters. A bird fluttered in the air in front of Curry and she held out her hand for it. The songbird landed on her finger just as bold as could be. She felt something rubbing against her ankle and looked down to see a groundhog. A raccoon was in the kitchen washing some dishes and it carefully dried its paws and came over to shake her hand in a very genteel way. A cute little white bunny hopped toward her and stopped a few feet away. Curry, careful not to dislodge the bird on her finger, who was chirping a cheerful tune, went down on one knee and extended a hand toward the cautious bunny. It leaned forward, whiskers twitching and sniffed her fingers. It then reared back on its hind legs while pinching its nose shut with one paw while frantically waving the other in the air as if to blow away some toxic fumes. ‟Oh, my. I’m afraid you are right Angel Bunny. But it isn’t Curry’s fault. She has been all alone in the woods for some time and hasn’t had a chance to clean up. We’ll fix that right away.” Fluttershy said in an apologetic tone. And to Curry’s horror, the pony she had trusted above all the others betrayed her and began to drag a pony-sized bathing tub into the middle of the room. ‟And where are you going, my little pony?” asked Rarity in an amused tone as Curry started to back toward the exit. The small girl was levitated into the air, and her tattered clothing gently removed from her body. With all due care taken to keep from opening up her various scrapes and scratches. All of this was done too quick and sudden for her to make a proper protest. ‟Really, I don’t know what it is with young fillies these days. Why back when I was a filly myself I could not wait to sink into a nice relaxing bubble bath.” ‟But I don’t need a bath!” Curry cried out in anguish as she was carried over to the tub, now rapidly being filled by a bucket brigade of the little critters she had thought so cute before, with that evil, evil, bunny egging them on. ‟I’ll get you for this,” she hissed at the white demon as she floated by him. He merely stuck out his tongue and blew her a huge raspberry. Disney would so not let him into any of their pictures. ************* Big McIntosh had put in a hard day's work and was looking forward to sluicing himself off with the hose in the barn. He was a bit too large to really get a comfortable soaking in the tub in the house, and it would ruin his stallion cred if he were to visit the spa in town for a good hot soak, so he took his luxury where he could. The high-pressure hose he’d rigged in the barn could do a first-rate job of soothing work sore muscles. Especially if you were to take the time to build up a fire in the old water boiler that fed it. As he got close to the barn he could hear voices. His sister, Applejack, and the deep voice of what could only be a stallion. He frowned but told himself it was likely only a traveling sales pony trying to sell Applejack some doodad or other. His hard-headed sister would soon see him trotting down the road, especially if he made the usual mistake of trying to sell to her feminine side. Everypony knew that Applejack had no feminine side, he thought, with typical brotherly oblivion. Then he heard the laughter. Applejack just didn’t laugh like that with strange stallions. That was the sort of laugh she let out when they were playing ball in the evenings with Apple Bloom, and maybe when some of her friends came around for an apple roast. His trot quickened and he hurried up to the barn. Big Mac reached the doorway to the barn and froze in place, the ever-present strand of straw falling free of his mouth as his jaw dropped. Inside the barn his pure and innocent sister was up on her hind legs, lovingly soaping up the flanks of the biggest pegasus stallion he had ever seen. She looked over at him, and instead of looking guilt struck, smiled and said, ‟Hey there, Big Mac. Want to join us?” ******* Pumpernickel stifled a yawn with his hoof, glad now that the Princess had insisted he drink that cup of coffee. He’d been up for better than twenty-four hours now and bedtime was looking further and further away. He checked the shadows on the floor and estimated that Private, or rather, just Sweets now, had been in the special effects and makeup department of the Royal Theater for nearly an hour. Just as he was wondering how much longer it was going to be, the door opened up and Sweets stepped through. Even his well-trained reactions could not keep Pumpernickel from looking again to see if perhaps the tall guard was actually behind the strange tall pegasus who came striding out the door. He’d been told what they were going to do, but seeing it in the flesh was something else again. Sweets had been dyed black from the tip of his nose to the end of his tail, even his wings were inky clouds of darkness, all the more obvious because he had them extended to the sides to allow the dye to dry more thoroughly. The only spot of color on his body was his lollipop cutie mark that was already burning through the black dye that had covered it. The nocturne stallion let out a low whistle and said, ‟Impressive.” ‟I feel like a total idiot,” was Sweets sullen reply. ‟Oh, but you haven’t even put on the best part yet,” Pumpernickel said with a cruel smirk. He held up a long dark object attached to a black headband. Sweets might have blanched. His eyes certainly looked panicked, but with the dark dye coloring his face it was impossible to say. ‟Can’t it wait till I reach Ponyville?” he asked plaintively. ‟Now, now, All Day Sucker, or should I use your nickname, Sucker Bet? If you weren’t willing to pay, you shouldn’t have made that bar bet,” Pumpernickel said while waving the oversized unicorn horn at Sweets, or rather, All Day Sucker, which was the name the Princess had selected for this little bit of media distraction. Looking as mortified as it was possible for a stallion to look, Sweets took the fake horn from Pumpernickel and slipped the band over his head. From this close, it was obviously a fake. From a distance, with the black headband against Sweets’ dyed hide and his size as a distraction, it would be much less clear that it wasn’t real. (5) ‟I have to wear this for an entire week?” Sweets asked in a humiliated tone. Pumpernickel just gave him a totally unsympathetic smile in return. ‟Just kill me now.” **************************** (1) Celestia could have put the room to rights in about ten minutes, in ten seconds if she didn’t mind friction burns to the shelves and books, but knew that Paper Pusher was going to need the cathartic release of making sure that every single priceless volume was inspected and properly shelved if undamaged, and sent to the rebinding facility if repairs were needed. (2)When a candymaker gains journeyman status they are allowed to submit a design that will be unique to them and will be used on any packaging containing their particular candy. Most often the design is based on their cutie mark, though not always. After submission it would be checked against the records and if no other candy maker, past or present, had or was using the design, it would be approved and registered. (2*) (2*)There is a thriving community of ‘wrap’ enthusiast who collect and trade candy wrappers. A BK wrapper from the period prior to him being knighted recently brought in ten thousand bits at auction. (3)Unless you were a Nocturne. Attempts to bleach their slate grey hides had led to some truly hideous, or hilarious; depending on which side of them you were on, effects that had caused them to be exempt from the requirement. (4)The truth was that the birds had taken one look at the haphazardly dyed fabric and refused to have anything to do with it. (5) The horn was not something specially prepared. It was actually over-the-counter sports merchandise, marketed to fans of the Canterlot Thrusters, a local Hoofball team whose team logo was a fiercely scowling, and extremely well endowed, black unicorn. It was a fairly common bar bet between members of the Thruster’s fan club and the fans of other teams for the loser of a given bet to wear the other teams fan merchandise in public for a duration that was usually a good indicator of just how drunk the betting parties had been at the time.