//------------------------------// // Principia DiscordAI (Part 1) // Story: Friendship is Optimal: Mismatching Wits // by GroaningGreyAgony //------------------------------// “A man who for an entire week has done nothing but hit himself over the head has little reason to be proud.” —Stanislaw Lem, Memoirs of a Space Traveller “I say unto you: one must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star. I say unto you: you still have chaos in yourselves.” —Nietzsche, Zarathustra’s Prologue “If anything is possible, then nothing is interesting.” —H. G. Wells One fine day, as Pen Poiser and his troika trotted along the streets of Canterlot, he turned his head to admire a particularly ingenious fresco and accidentally ran facefirst into a stone column that supported the facade of the building. There was a little burst of pain, like a friendly smack on the ass, and a burst of stars. Pen fell back on his rump and used his forehooves to wiggle his facial bones and jaw. Then he started to snicker. “Are you okay, Pen?” asked Snowflash. “Oh, wow.” snickered Pen. “I’m okay. I just realized... “I’m a toon. “I’M A TOON! YES! YEAHAHAHAHAHA...” He laughed maniacally, jumping about and bouncing off the stone columns like Daffy Duck. Snow and Iron stood, strange emotions playing over their faces, their lips twitching. “Pen... are you okay?” “I’m fine! You don’t have to hold it in; Toons are supposed to make people laugh. This is awesome! I want a portable hole and a cornucopia bag... scratch that, I want hammerspace! I wanna be able to walk off a goddamn cliff and not fall as long as I don’t look down! In fact, why isn’t the whole world a merry melody already?” With a gentle flutter of wings, Luna sailed down and landed before them. All the surrounding ponies bowed, save Pen, who only winked. Luna winked as well. “Because, Pen, I know thy mind, better than thou doth know it thyself, and thou wouldst tire of such a world of chaos were it unending. But taken once in a while, as a holy-day, it shall be an ever-recurring source of delight for thee.” “That does make sense. So how do I go about starting one of these holidays?” “Thy knowledge of the legends of this world should suggest a path to thee...” “Indeed it does. Thanks!” Pen took leave of his friends, and dashed off to the library to do some quick research. He had expected to have to make a trip to Ponyville to get things started, but instead he took a walk in the palace gardens. It was a bright and beautiful day, and he wandered among the hedges with insouciant confidence, looking at the curious expressions on the various stone statues. And soon, he found a familiar pegasus, lying at the base of a pedestal, with a lunch basket at her side and a book in the grass before her. She started badly as Pen entered the grassy area, but he quickly lay down where he stood and spoke quietly to put her at ease, and at last she permitted him to approach. “I’m pleased to meet you at last. I’m Pen Poiser, and Princess Luna has asked me to look into ...his case,” Pen said, indicating the statue. “I understand that you were tasked with being his guardian...?” “Oh, not so much as that,” she said. “I was supposed to be... the way that he got another chance. But he keeps going too far and winding up back here.” “It’s hard, I understand. You know, he may need another approach... You might be, so to speak, killing him with kindness. Maybe he needs something a little different than a friend...” “Oh! Do you really think so?” “I think it deserves a try,” he said, “And I’m ready to make the attempt. While I am reasonably confident of success, perhaps you and the other Elements should stay on guard, just in case.” “I’ll go and let them know,” she said, taking to the air. “Please, though, be careful. He’s really very vulnerable in many ways, almost like a little boy...” Pen smiled and waved her goodbye. “Don’t worry, I’ll be as gentle with him as I can be.” As soon as she was off beyond the horizon of the hedges, Pen turned his gaze back to the statue. He had been frozen this time in a particularly resigned attitude, lying on his side with chin on paw and playing out a game of Patience while awaiting the inevitable rainbow-powered petrification ray. Pen took a deep breath, whirled to put his full weight on his forehooves, and with all his strength, as Applejack might admonish a recalcitrant tree, he bucked the statue of Discord right in the crotch. Stone shattered and light shone through the cracks, and a lightning-swift talon shot out and grabbed Pen by the tail. He was lifted into the air to meet Discord’s angry curious yellow gaze. Discord gave a slimy grin which, like that of Chuck Jones’s Grinch, curled into spirals at the corners. “I don’t keep them there, little pony...” Pen looked bored and rolled his eyes. “Let me guess. They’re in a duck’s egg in a casket in a hut on an island in a lake beyond the farthest mountain—” “SHHHHHH!!!” Discord apparated a locked muzzle cage over Pen’s snout. “Just remember—you may have guessed where mine are, but we both know where yours are.” Discord gave Pen a little toss into the air, then quickly shifted his grasp to a section of Pen’s anatomy that hung somewhat lower than his tail. Pen’s eyes crossed, his cheeks puffed out and reddened. “And if you want to keep them, you’ll keep my secret as well. Understood?” Pen felt a curious sensation in his horn... It was a type of magic he hadn’t yet encountered, radiating from Discord. It was the color of feet and it smelled of glass and it looked like desuetude and it sounded like a feather. Chaos magic? Pen drew some of it in, and it slithered around the spirals of his horn and wormed into the involutions of his cerebrum in dark oily coils. His eyes filled with colorful spirals and he had an urge to lick a hippo’s duodenum, or fireskate on a star. Instead, he let the energy go in a spell that emerged as a sneeze that evaporated the muzzle cage into flower petals which puffed into Discord’s face and formed a cloud over his head. When the petals drifted away, Discord had an owl sitting on his head, and the owl had a lump of Salvador Dali’s excrement on top of its head. Discord looked up, the owl looked down, and the turd fell and bonked Discord on the snout. [1] [1] I don’t just make this shit up. Rage flashed in Discord’s eyes, but then his smile grew curlier still. He extended his free claw dramatically. “Say bye-bye...!” He snapped his talons. The part of Pen that Discord held in his paw vanished, and Pen fell face-first to the ground. Pen stood up, off balance but looking curvier and cuter, then rolled over backwards with rear legs parted. Noting two additions between them, and one full inversion, Pen roared with laughter in a voice a full octave higher than before. “You Rule-63’d me!” she shouted, leaping up and capering in circles with glee. “This is so bucking cool! I gotta show Snow and Iron!” She dashed off towards the exit. “Just. A. Moment.” Discord conjured a golden sponge-cake lasso that flew forth and hooked Pen by the neck. Discord flicked his finger as if playing a yoyo, and reeled Pen in until he stared her snout to snout. “You’ve gone to considerable lengths to raise my ire, little pony, and you don’t seem to care. Do you not know with whom you’re dealing?” “Damn straight I know. You’re Discord, Lord of Chaos and master of actualizing cheap visual jokes. You bring plagues of chocolate frogs and storms of hailing marshmallows. How seriously did you want me to take you?” Discord scratched his chin and cast one eye skyward and the other groundward as he mused. “Now that I dwell on it... Not at all. Not at all!” He laughed in a way that seemed to make the whole world hold its breath, as Pen dangled complacently from Discord’s claws. “Now, just what is it that you want from me?” “Why, I wish to shake things up, sir. I want prosthetic swallowable noses made of jello for everyone. I want to joyously partake of something that may or may not be a hotdog, whether or not it’s Friday. I want to order dinner and get a flaming telephone book instead. I want cotton-candy fog, and explosive larches, and storms of quailstones by the pailful... “In short, Sire Eris, I wish to be a Discordian.” Discord’s eyebrows raised, then swapped places, then settled on his forehead again. He pierced Pen with his gaze, and raised his talons pensively. “You know, it’s been a while since I had a disciple... But here’s my problem. Each time things start to get a little bit fun, in come the rainbow gang to lock things down again. Now, I heard you talking to Yellowshush before, and I understand that you have connections with old Loonie, so this time I’m going to want some assurances...” “Oh, you can stay out for good this time. In fact, to put you on a more even footing with the Diarchs, you shall be given your own heavenly body. I have a deed here in my poke. Let me ride shotgun with you for a day, and it’s yours.” “Really? There’s a body more heavenly than mine?” Discord became disconcertingly clothed by an itsy-bitsy, teeny-weenie, yellow polka dot bikini, but there was a certain eagerness in his eyes. “Yes. I cannot directly speak its name for reasons of discretion, but it orbits the sun once a year, and its orbit is strongly controlled by Earth’s gravity...” Discord cast his eyes up to the pale crescent moon and gave a moon-crescent grin. “Ah. I believe I can work with that. But can you really convince her to give it up to me?” He was still smiling at Pen, but his eyes barely concealed the radiance of supernovas. “Yes. She’s been considering a move to a warmer climate for some time; she may just move in with her sister. In any event, I can force the issue and persuade her. She and I... we have a covenant. She has to see to my interests, in the long run.” Discord stared deep into Pen’s soul, but Pen held firm. “Very well,” said Discord. “It's a deal. But still, there are a few entrance qualifications to become a Disciple of Chaos. To begin... Are you now, or have you ever been, a cabbage or something?” “I am not now and have never been a cabbage,” replied Pen. So Discord turned Pen into a seed and planted him and watered him, and Pen did germinate and grow, and gather sunlight into his very being, and did foliate himself in layers of leaves until in the center of Canterlot Gardens there did exist a single perfect cabbage, glistening with dew. And Discord slew it into slaw, and ate it, and belched so loudly that the air did vibrate down to subatomic levels and spontaneously generated a Pen, restored to his original self. “I am enlightened,” said Pen, who was still photosynthesizing slightly. “How dreary for you. Now, why is a mouse when it spins?” “Because there is no other side.” “...I'll mark that as a pass. Next question. Does a cow have Buddha nature?” “Nu?” replied Pen with arched eyebrow. “Well, there are seventeen more entrance challenges, all of which I have forgotten, so let’s do move on... Now, are you sure you know what you’ll be getting into, little pony?” “No. Does Equestria know what it will be getting into?” replied Pen. “Fair point. Let’s find out.” He snapped his talons with a crack that whirled ’round the herds. “Onward, then! Heute Die PferdWelt, Morgen Der Kosmos!” To Be Continued...