//------------------------------// // Guest Chapter: Though When He Does, He Delivers The Goods (The Ponytrician) // Story: Celestia Uses An Online Dating Website // by RainbowBob //------------------------------// Celestia eased her head through the door frame and slowly scanned the darkened kitchen. Satisfied that it was empty of ponies, she swiftly trit-trotted towards the kitchen bench where her objective lay, silently taunting her. "My precious!" she exhaled lustfully, the gentle golden glow of her magic silently lifting the glass cloche off the cake stand; taste buds a-tingle and tongue a-flicker with anticipation, Celestia levitated a thick wedge of deliciously, sinfully moist cake towards her eagerly parting lips... The kitchen lights snapped on. "Stop right there, criminal scum!" announced a gruff-yet-feminine voice. Celestia sighed, a mixture of disappointment and exasperation, and regretfully lowered the slice of cake. "'Criminal scum?' Really, Luna? Firstly, this is the royal kitchens, and last time I looked, I was still a pony princess. Let me double-check... Wings? Yep. Horn? Yes. Totally freakin' awesome tiara? Tartarus, yes! Secondly," she glared at her sister, who was striding into the kitchen with her head held high, "this is my cake! Look!" The Princess of the Sun flailed a hoof at Ponies Exhibit A, the aforementioned cake. "It’s even decorated with a picture of my cutie mark!" "What is criminal," the younger sister intoned, "is your completely deplorable lack of manners and etiquette when it comes to the consumption of baked confectionery." Luna levitated a pair of small plates and two cake forks, placing one of each on opposing sides of the kitchen bench. "What makes you scum," Luna remarked sourly, "is that you've been constantly avoiding me for the last two weeks." The Moon Princess raised a knife in the teal shimmer of her magic, deftly slicing the thick wedge into two smaller but equal-sized pieces that were then levitated onto the plates. "I can only assume that your last date was as stunningly unsuccessful as your previous efforts, and you've been actively preventing me from setting you up with your next match. So, what went wrong this time?" She speared a small chunk of cake with her fork and gestured at Celestia's slice. "As the young ponies say: 'sit yo ass down and spill it, bee-atch!'". "You know, Luna," Celestia murmured, levitating her own fork, "I'm really starting to wonder about the effect that all these video games are having on you." She raised her hooves in mock surrender as Luna glared at her. "All right, all right! Keep your peytral on! I'm not changing the subject—can't a girl be worried about her little sis? If you must know," Celestia said around a mouthful of cake, "the date actually did go very well, and I haven't been avoiding you; I've been busy spending some *ahem* quality time with him..." She grinned a little sheepishly. Luna seemed quite taken aback at this unexpected turn of events. "Oh! Uh... really? Well, um... do tell!" Her brow furrowed in recollection. "Some sort of winter god from one of the human worlds, isn't he?" "Close," Celestia nodded, "He's a spirit embodying the human holiday that is equivalent to our own Hearth's Warming Eve. He's had a number of different names over the ages—Saint Nicholas, Father Christmas, Kris Kringle—but these days he tends to go by Santa Claus, or just plain Santa." "Do go on," Luna prompted, as Celestia paused to take another bite of cake. "What's he like?" "Well, he's very jolly; and extremely cuddly. And he has this amazingly thick and fluffy white beard—" "What is it with you and beards?" Luna interrupted. "I mean, just look at some of your previous dates—if you can even see them behind all that face-fuzz!" "So I like a bit of tickle when I’m smooching," Celestia huffed defensively. "Besides, beards are sexy." "Whatever blows your mane back, Tia," Luna replied dryly. "*cough!*daddyissues*cough!*" she muttered into her hoof. "Sorry, cake crumb," she smiled innocently as Celestia glared daggers in her direction. "Do continue—you said that he's a holiday spirit? What does that entail?" Celestia stared suspiciously at Luna for a moment, then grudgingly continued. "From what I understand, Santa spends the year manufacturing gifts and toys for the human children; then on the eve of the winter holiday he delivers them to the children who have been sufficiently well-behaved throughout the year and are deemed to be deserving of such presents—" "While the ill-behaved ones are dealt a brutal, yet well-deserved and no doubt well-needed punishment," Luna nodded approvingly, "I like it!" "No!" Celestia scowled. "The less well-behaved children are usually given a lesser gift. Traditionally it was a lump of coal, but these days it tends towards things like socks and underwear." "Socks and undergarments... for children?!" The shock on Luna's face was quite evident. "Isn't that a little... risqué?" "Humans," Celestia shrugged. "Go figure. But he’s mostly about the toys." She sighed dreamily. “Oh, the toys, Lulu! Next time I’m drunk, remind me and I’ll demonstrate to you the things Santa showed me that can be done with a skipping rope, toy train set, and a fuzzy teddy bear…” “Thank you, dear sister, for that wonderful mental image. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go deplete Canterlot’s entire reserves of alcoholic beverages in an attempt to scour it from my memory.” Celestia poked her tongue out at her younger sister. “That’s for the ‘beard’ remark.” Luna rubbed at her temples with a hoof. “Alright, changing the subject—kind of—you say Santa does these deliveries in a single eve? Across an entire world? Even using teleportation, I don’t see how that’s possible.” She looked dubiously at Celestia. “He’s not using time magic, is he? You know how dangerous that is!” Celestia shrugged dismissively. “Well, Santa claims he does all the deliveries in a single night, and I don’t see any reason to doubt his word; so he probably is using some sort of time magic to slow things down or speed them up. Though he doesn’t teleport—he carries all the gifts in a large sleigh drawn by nine magically flying reindeer.” She swallowed another mouthful of cake. “They’re a great bunch of guys and gals—maybe I should introduce you to them some time? They’re not afraid to join in with the sexy funtimes, either.” “Too- toot!” Luna deadpanned. “The ‘Too-Much-Information Express’ has just pulled into Wrongville station...” The Moon Princess’s eyes widened in horror and she buried her face in her hooves. “Ugh! And just when I’d very nearly suppressed that toy train image. Good job, me!” Luna raised her head and took a calming breath. “Okay, if I might borrow a device of our dear Twilight Sparkle: let us perform the Santa Checklist. Good sense of humour? Check. Hard-working? Check. Loyal to fault? Check. Kindly and generous? Double check. Magical? Check. Good with the n00bs, err, children? Check. Acceptable levels of kinkiness? Debatable, but check. Meets the beard fetish—shut up; it’s a fetish and you know it! *Ahem!* Meets the beard fetish? Check. Has some decent friends? Check. No murderous spouses, siblings, arch-nemiseses, or all-three-in-one-person attempting to disrupt every date? Check. Totally sweet ride? Check. He’s not Deadpool? Check.” Luna levelled her gaze at her sister. ”Given everything I’ve just listed, you’re still sneaking into the kitchen in the middle of the night to gorge yourself on cake? Tia, he sounds completely perfect for you! So why is it that I sense a big ‘but’ coming—and for once I’m not referring to your expanding hindquarters.” Celestia ignored the jibe. “Ah, Luna,” she sighed woefully as she licked a dollop of creamy white frosting from the tip of her fork, “it would seem that Santa comes only once a year…”