After briefly splitting up to return home for their respective dinners, the Crusaders headed off to Sugarcube Corner. There weren’t many customers present when they arrived at the bakery, and most of them looked like they were in a hurry to be somewhere else as soon as possible. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem as though many of the employees were present, as only Mrs. Cake was behind the counter, with neither her husband nor Pinkie Pie anywhere in sight.
“Oh, Mr. Cake is taking care of the twins, dearies,” Mrs. Cake explained with a smile. “We need to make sure we’re ready for tomorrow.”
“Why?” Scootaloo asked. “Is something happening?”
“Mm-hmm,” Mrs. Cake nodded. “They’re going to try to take care of that fog problem, but unfortunately, there’s no way to keep it from coming through Ponyville.”
“Oh,” Scootaloo replied before quietly whispering to her friends: “Did you hear that? The humans are going to be here tomorrow.”
The other two Crusaders responded with quick, almost imperceptible nods before returning their attention to Mrs. Cake. “So, um, is Pinkie Pie around?” Sweetie Belle asked.
“I’m afraid she isn’t,” Mrs. Cake replied kindly. “She’s helping Fluttershy with the preparations.”
“Well, do ya think she’d mind if we borrowed some of her supplies?” Apple Bloom asked. “I mean, we’d ask her ourselves, but we’re kinda short on time right now.”
“Oh, I don’t think she’d be able to let you have them even if she was here,” Mrs. Cake said. “She’s cleared out most of her room for tomorrow’s party.”
“Huh?” the Crusaders asked in unison confusion.
“Since the fog is so dangerous, there’s going to be a party for all the foals at Bon-Bon’s store to keep them safe,” Mrs. Cake said.
“And Pinkie Pie’s there right now?” Scootaloo asked excitedly.
“I assume so,” Mrs. Cake said. “But—”
However, the shapely baker didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence, as she was cut off by a chorus of rapid thank-yous as the Crusaders rushed out of the bakery and towards the candy shop.
September 1 – 6:39 PM
Pencil Pusher didn’t have the slightest clue what to do next. He may have been immensely skilled at maneuvering through bureaucracies, but without other bureaucrats to interact with, all those skills added up to little more than a thin, red rectangle on his hip. He didn’t know what he was going to tell Fluttershy, though that hardly mattered at the moment, as his wing was going to keep him grounded for at least a little while longer, which meant that flying back to Ponyville to deliver the bad news wasn’t really an option. He supposed he might have had enough money to send a telegram, but at the moment, that money was being used to fund something altogether more appealing: a box of glazed donuts.
Sitting in the donut shop he’d stumbled upon, Pencil took another bite of the cakey ring in his hoof as he glumly considered his situation. Once again, he asked himself if it was really worth all this trouble just to impress a mare—but by now, this was about a lot more than trying to get a date. Something about “volunteering” to be Fluttershy’s liaison was different from the usual drudgery of his cubicle, and it wasn’t just the insane amount of physical exertion, nor was it even having a reason to get testy with Greg. This wasn’t just a series of thankless form-checking and rubber-stamping; this had been important. Pencil hadn’t quite been able to fully identify his impetus for going above and beyond what was necessary to look good as a potential partner, but as his hope rapidly faded, he only now realized exactly what he was about to lose: pride.
And now he was going to be shoved back into the same soul-sucking role as before, all because he’d neglected to consider government agencies other than the Department of Weather when advising Fluttershy. The fact that it was Greg of all ponies who’d pointed out the discrepancy only made it worse. He half suspected that his boss had deliberately given him the wrong time when he’d asked when the Interior Department closed, but Greg had also suggested sending them a telegram, which, in retrospect, would probably have been enough to at least convince them to stay open late so they could talk to him. In theory, that suggestion could have been intended as reverse psychology, but that, in turned, implied that Greg was actually capable of subtle psychological warfare, when Pencil knew full well that his boss preferred to use the blunt force of his personality to do everything.
That said, there was little point in dwelling on this now; he was stuck in Canterlot, smothering his troubles in donuts, and praying that some sort of solution would fall into his lap in the next few hours, because his own brain had utterly failed to come up with a “Plan B.”
Oh, who am I kidding? he thought to himself. Stuff like that only happens in—
“Need somepony to talk to?”
Pencil Pusher looked up to see the donut shop’s owner, a stocky unicorn stallion with a beige coat and brown mane. He had a look of knowing concern on his face. Pencil Pusher sighed and answered him: “Is it that obvious?”
“Well, there aren’t too many ponies who go on donut binges before the sun sets,” the owner replied. “The name’s Donut Joe. And you?”
“Pencil Pusher,” the pegasus replied, listlessly extending a hoof, which Joe politely shook.
“Well, Pencil, what seems to be troubling you?”
“The weather,” Pencil replied drearily.
“Well, there’s not much point in getting mad about that. From what I understand, right now, the Weather Department has to deal with some sort of runaway fog thing, so they can’t really avoid getting off their published schedule.”
“Oh, believe me, I know all about the ‘fog thing.’”
Joe eyed his customer warily. “Okay... you’re going to need to go into more detail on that one.”
Taking a deep breath, Pencil launched into a summary of his plight, skipping most of the technical details and office politics to focus on the big picture: a mountain of incredibly dangerous fog, and his probable loss of the one chance anypony had to get rid of it because he couldn’t get in touch with the Department of Interior.
Donut Joe rubbed his chin for a bit, as though he was mulling over a response. Eventually, he had a suggestion. “Well, if it’s an emergency, why not just go around the whole bureaucracy and take it directly to Princess Celestia? She holds court almost every day to hear requests from her subjects, so she’ll probably have time to listen to you.”
Pencil Pusher didn’t say anything at first—he was stunned that he hadn’t thought of this idea himself. Even if Princess Celestia wasn’t holding court, she was still the one who’d appointed Fluttershy to be the Element of Kindness in the first place (or something like that), so the two of them probably knew each other reasonably well. And now that he thought of it, Twilight Sparkle had mentioned something about studying with the Princess before her first consulting job with the Weather Department, though he doubted that meant that Twilight had taken lessons directly from the Princess herself. It seemed like there was a reasonably good chance that she’d be willing to lend some assistance... but would she really believe that some schmo she’d never heard of before had any connection to those two?
Then again, it’s not like I’ve got any better ideas. Pencil Pusher quickly dug the bits to pay for his donuts out of his saddlebag and deposited them on the counter. “Thanks!” he said as he quickly exited the donut shop, galloping towards the Royal Palace, leaving behind the two donuts remaining in his box.
September 1 – 6:48 PM
Given that Pinkie Pie was getting ready to throw a party there, Bon-Bon’s candy shop didn’t look all that different than it had when the Crusaders had entered it the previous day. The shelves were still lined with colorful displays of sweets for sale, the scent of peppermint still filled the air, and Bon-Bon herself looked every bit as nervous and paranoid as she had when she’d first told them about the humans. The only noticeable differences were the various boxes strewn about the area overflowing with all manner of party supplies and decorations, and the fact that Bon-Bon appeared to be deep in conversation with Pinkie Pie.
“I mean, I know that I should be willing to stand behind my beliefs, and I know that my decision is the smart one... but I can’t shake the nagging feeling that Lyra might actually be doing the right thing, even if it’s for the wrong reasons.”
Pinkie Pie nodded sagely as she put her hoof on the candymaker’s shoulder. “I know just what you mean: I make my friends feel that way all the time.”
“That isn’t exactly the most comforting thought,” Bon-Bon replied. “Besides, I really should stay here. Those foals are going to be on my property, after all. Their wellbeing is my responsibility.”
Pinkie Pie, however, was more dismissive. “I don’t think you need to worry about the legally-weaselly stuff. Technically, you’re just renting out the place, so I’m pretty sure it’s our responsibility. Look, why don’t you talk to Fluttershy? I’m pretty sure she can answer most of your questions, and you can bet she’ll know where you’ll be the most help.”
“You really think she’ll have time to talk to me?” Bon-Bon asked.
“Are you kidding? You’re the one who made this party possible, and the party was her idea in first place! Of course she’ll talk with you, and once she does, everything will be better. You’ll see.”
Bon-Bon sighed. “Alright. Would you mind watching the shop for me while I’m gone?”
“Not a problem!” Pinkie chirped.
It was only when Bon-Bon exited her shop that Pinkie Pie noticed the three new arrivals. “Hey, girls! Getting some last-minute crusading in before tomorrow?”
“Uh, basically,” Scootaloo said as she shifted her weight nervously. “We actually came here to ask you a favor.”
“Well, don’t just stand there,” Pinkie replied. “Ask away!”
Sweetie Belle got right to the point: “Do you have a reinforced disco ball we can use?”
“Sure, I always keep plenty of spares,” Pinkie Pie said as she waved a hoof towards a corner of the shop. “Help yourself.”
“Thanks a bunch,” Apple Bloom said once the three had picked out the final component of their human trap. “Hope you have fun with the foals tomorrow!”
“Oh, I will,” Pinkie Pie said with a wave. “I’ll see you then!”
The Crusaders all froze mid-stride halfway to the door. “What do you mean, ‘you’ll see us then’?” Scootaloo asked. “I thought that party is for little foals.”
“Yeah, and it’s also for medium-sized foals and big foals, too, like the three of you.”
“Uh, well, thanks for the invitation, but we sort of have other plans for tomorrow,” Sweetie Belle said with halting politeness.
“Er, actually, I’m pretty sure that you won’t have much choice in the matter. The party is being held in Bon-Bon’s bunker for protection against the fog, and Rarity and Applejack have already told me that you and Apple Bloom are going to be attending. As for Scootaloo, I kind of doubt that any pegasus foals are going to be allowed outside tomorrow afternoon, so she’ll probably be here too.”
“But... but what about our crusadin’?” Apple Bloom asked with a pained expression on her face.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Pinkie Pie said as she strode over to the trio and scooped them up in a tight hug. “Once the fog’s gone, you’ll have plenty of time to try for your cutie marks. In the meantime, we’re going to have lots of fun!”