//------------------------------// // The Allegiance Alteration // Story: Dr Sheldon Cooper goes to Equestria // by Lancelot //------------------------------// The gentle chirping of distant crickets echoed throughout the still night, creating a serene ambience of pure tranquility. The nearby hooting of neighbouring owls continued ceaselessly - syncing together to create a soothing orchestra of nocturnal vocalists. Hundreds of fireflies filled the forest air and illuminated the night sky; the tiny orbs of light slowly drifted from one side to the other, as if riding an invisible wave. The stunning spectacle flooded through the confines of the ponies’ tents below, creating an intimate burst of color that ran across the interior, wrapping it’s inhabitants in a blanket of euphoria. However, despite the immaculate conditions, sleep wouldn’t come for one particularly restless unicorn. The muffled sound of a perpetually shifting sleeping bag abolished the peaceful atmosphere, as the aggravated unicorn once again adjusted her position and rolled over onto her opposite side for what felt like the hundredth time. “Celestia help me,” groaned Twilight into her pillow, lifting her tired head upwards to glare at her alarm clock through half-lidded eyes. 2:01 am A long, exasperated sigh escaped her lips as she nudged aside her sheets and wriggled out of her sleeping bag. Her tent was fairly well organised; her saddlebag lay folded neatly in the corner, whilst the few books she brought with her were stacked elegantly to the side of her pillow. Twilight had always been an organised pony, and old habits die hard - even in the middle of a remote, exotic and possibly dangerous forest. Still, regardless of the uncluttered environment, she took utmost care to avoid contact with any objects she brought with her - lest the noise wake up the others - as she treaded lightly towards the zipped entrance of her nylon enclosure. “Maybe some fresh air will help me sleep,” whispered Twilight, the tip of her horn glowed a soft, transparent purple which soon latched on to the tent’s zipper, yanking it downwards and unfurling the dense, leafy green expansion that awaited outside. The cold outdoor breeze struck Twilight like a train. She clenched her weary eyes shut, the forceful wind instigating unwanted moisture as it thrashed her frontage, sending chills up her spine. She took a few steps forward, forcing herself upright as she shrugged aside the gale. She quickly regained her vision, craning back her neck to behold the darkened woodlands in it’s entirety. There was an odd, almost transcendental beauty to the forest, come nightfall. The moon’s bright, unearthly glow descended across the landscape, submerging the plantation in a sea of serenity. The measly campfire of earlier persisted to burn in the camp’s center, although only just. It’s slowly dimming light offered little in the terms of visibility - so little in fact, Twilight had almost missed the distinct rainbow-colored tail poking out beside the flames. “Rainbow?” asked Twilight, squinting as she stepped towards the shadowy figure. “Is that you?” “Huh?” squeaked the voice, momentarily startled by the sudden intrusion. A large pair of magenta eyes emerged from behind the campfire, glaring at Twilight through the dark, gloomy void. “Oh, hey Twi,” exclaimed Rainbow, patting the ground beside her with an extended wing, “You can’t sleep either, huh?” “Is it really that obvious?” chuckled Twilight, as she made for the campfire and took a seat next to her friend. “I haven’t suffered from insomnia since I was a filly, I thought I got over it - I did get over it. I can’t wrap my head around why it’s come back all of a sudden.” “It’s probably the forest,” answered Rainbow with a yawn. “Kinda hard to relax when you’re stuck in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by wildlife that just won’t shut up and let anypony catch a nap.” “Yeah, maybe…” A weary silence engulfed the campsite once again. The fading fire pulsated a soft, crackling whimper, with the occasional popping noise that signaled the expansion of tiny pockets of trapped air. Twilight gazed up longingly towards the sky. A translucent ripple of radiant color washed across it’s surface, painting a luminous mirage of a vibrant river. It’s sides curved, almost snake-like, as it slithered across the ethereal plane. “Hey, Twi,” interjected Rainbow, pointing towards a group of distant stars. “Isn’t that the weird hourglass looking thingy you keep talking about?” Twilight shifted her sight to the aforementioned spot and inspected it thoroughly. Her saucer shaped eyes expanded, and lit up like candles upon witnessing the revelation before her. “Orion!” gasped Twilight, turning to face her friend with stunned awe. “So you did read those books on star constellations I gave you!” “Nope,” replied Rainbow, rolling her eyes. “You just mention it so often, it’s kinda stuck in my head, I guess.” “You’re a terrible liar,” accused Twilight, a smug smirk plastered across her face. “You did read those books I gave you!” “F-fine,” conceded Rainbow, tilting her head away from the campfire - a vain attempt to conceal the blazing blush present in her cheeks. “Maybe I skimmed through a couple pages, I figured you’d be offended if I didn’t, ya know?” “Excuses,” said Twilight, quietly giggling to herself as she rose to her hooves. “Anyway, I’m off to bed. If I don’t get some sleep, I might not wake up on time - and If I don’t wake up on time, who’s going to wake everypony else up?” “I dunno, Pinkie?” “I wouldn't count on it,” replied Twilight, carefully trotting back towards her tent. “Good night, Rainbow. Good luck.” “Good luck?” “With Sheldon I mean,” said Twilight, a lengthy yawn eroding her throat. “Try not to wake him when go back to bed, for your own sake.” “Wait, what?” asked Rainbow, her bewildered eyes bounced between Twilight’s tent and her own. “You mean Sheldon isn’t sleeping in your tent?” ... Twilight paused, her breathing became rapid as a surge of adrenaline instantaneously shot down her spine. “No…” she answered, panic etched across her concerned expression. “Why would he be? You lost the bet, therefore he’s sleeping with you tonight… right?” “He sure as hay isn’t sleeping in my tent,” said Rainbow, giving a swift flap of her wings to boost herself upwards. “I thought he bailed, you saw how he acted earlier. I figured he probably went crawling back to you - since, ya know - he’s slept over at yours before, right? And him and I don’t really see eye-to-eye much either.” “Perfect. Just perfect,” groaned Twilight, momentarily disappearing into the confines of her tent, only to emerge seconds later, a flashlight clenched between her teeth. “Uh, what are you doing?” asked Rainbow, eyeing her irritated friend with intrigue. “M’ gn ‘t’ lu’ fur’ mm.” “What?” “I’m going to look for him,” replied Twilight, using her magic to levitate the flashlight out her mouth. She gave the flashlight a quick jab, triggering a bright beam of light which she aimed towards the nearby forestry. With limited but adequate visibility, she began her one-pony search party, marching forwards into the unknown wilderness. “Come on, Twi,” called out Rainbow from behind her. “Sheldon may be an idiot, but he’s not that much of an idiot that he’d wander out into some dangerous forest by himself!” “I’m not suggesting he did,” said Twilight, leaning forwards as she closely examined the ground, checking for any sign of footprints. “Who knows what sort of creatures are lurking in these woods, maybe he was kidnapped!” “Kidnapped. Sheldon? Really?” snickered Rainbow, shaking her head frantically. “Who the hay would want to kidnap Sheldon? I mean, when you kidnap somepony you usually want something valuable, right? The only thing anypony’s gonna get from kidnapping Sheldon is a headache, an unnecessarily long lecture about their lifestyle and some pointless facts about garbage you don’t even care about!” “That’s exactly what I’m worried about!” responded Twilight, carefully checking behind trees and bushes for any trace of the physicist. “What if he says something stupid - like he usually does - and upsets them or something? I doubt they’ll be as patient with him as we've been.” “C’mon Twi, relax,” coaxed Rainbow, “You’re over-reacting, he’s probably just sleeping in AJ’s tent, she is his ‘mom’ after all.” Twilight halted her forage and peered back at the campsite. Applejack’s tent stood off to the side, neighbouring Rainbow’s and Rarity’s tents respectively. An orange insignia depicting three side-by-side apples was inscribed upon a yellow flag which sat atop the tent’s peak, blowing violently in the wind. “That does make sense,” conceded Twilight, shoving aside her flashlight as she slowly strolled back to the campsite. “We should check though, just to be sure.” “What if he’s asleep and you wake him up?” asked Rainbow, “I’m sure Applejack’s had a tough enough day, hauling that idiot all the way here. The last thing she’d want is for us to go barging in and causing a scene with Sheldork.” “But-” “Trust me,” assured Rainbow, approaching Twilight before lightly nudging her back in the direction of her tent. “Go get some sleep, I’ll deal with Sheldon.” “Okay, fine,” sighed Twilight, her dreary eyes gave the vicinity one last paranoid once-over, before a sudden, unexpected yawn reminded her just how exhausted she really was. “Just, promise me you’ll check that he’s with Applejack before you go to bed.” “I will,” said Rainbow, “Now get going, you’re up super early tomorrow.” “Don’t remind me,” quipped Twilight, as she made her way back to the polyester entrance of her shelter. “Thanks, Rainbow, I appreciate it. I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Technically it’s today,” pointed out Rainbow, “But whatever, night’ Twi.” The last vestige of lavender faded away into darkness, the distinct sound of a zipper sealing the opening - the portal - that safeguarded the warmth of indoors from the harsh, windy tundra of outside. Rainbow shivered. Despite her best effort, her wings refused to wrap around her sides any tighter. Her shaky breath emitted tiny clouds of vapor, which soon dissipated into nothingness. With the previously blazing campfire fundamentally extinguished; aside from the smouldering remains of blackened kindling, no viable heat-source existed. With the increasingly violent wind bombarding the wilderness, a majority of the creatures that once inhabited the area had deserted, escaping the nature’s relentless siege - into the comfort of their burrows. Rainbow didn't blame them, in fact, she felt exactly the same way. Her short journey towards Applejack’s tent was painfully interrupted by an icy-cold gust of air, smashing her in the face. The force was palpable, almost sending her hurling to the ground. Regaining her composure was easy, but regaining her will to continue proved to be more of a challenge. She stared blankly at the vague outlines of Applejack’s refuge, entrenched deeply within a gloomy shroud of shadows. This is pointless, Sheldon’s probably fine, so why even bother… Before she could even ponder her rhetorical question, a sudden bright, flash of lightning answered it for her. Scurrying back to her tent as fast as she could, Rainbow gave one last hastened glance back, at Applejack’s abode. Not a chance, sorry Twi. * * * Sheldon struggled to maintain his posture. His turbo-charged mind had gone overload, and his heart threatened to burst forth, out of his chest. His various emotions ran rampant, mixing and merging together, to the point where even Sheldon himself knew not, what he felt inside. Fear, admiration and confusion were all good words, but none of them truly nailed it down. The one thing Sheldon was absolutely certain of; if this was the real John de Lancie, then he must not screw it up like he did back at Comic-con. Sheldon had always been at least adequately confident when it came to conversations with new people, but for some inexplicable reason, the mere notion of meeting his idols at a comic convention sent shivers down his spine. When the big day finally arrived - as did his turn in the autograph queue - the words refused to come out, instead leaving him standing there, a stupid expression plastered across his face. It was an awkward and embarrassing experience Sheldon had soon hoped to forget. “John de Lancie?” interjected the draconequus, bringing a claw to his goatee flaunting chin. “Oh, no-no-no, my dear boy - I think you have me confused with someone else, I’m afraid.” Oh… Sheldon wasn't sure whether disappointment or relief was the more suitable emotional response at the given time, regardless he felt both. “Now, now, Sheldon - there’s no need to feel disheartened,” continued the strange creature, abandoning his position at the tree’s peak, using his serpent-esq tail to swing behind the tree’s trunk, out of view. “I can be anything you want me to be, you just have to ask.” Sheldon was at a loss for words. Pseudo-suggestive lingual aside, he did have a lot of questions. How did the creature know his name? Why did it sound so familiar to his idolized Star Trek hero? Why did it request Sheldon’s presence in the first place? All of these questions and more were to be answered momentarily, as an abrupt “Incoming!” from behind the tree, signaled an imminent arrival - as the strange creature cannon-balled through the branches. It’s circular form wavered, it’s appearance akin to something the likes of Sonic the Hedgehog - before finally landing a few feet in front of Sheldon. With the creature’s adjacent proximity, Sheldon had ample opportunity to scrutinize it’s bizarre demeanour, except something was wrong. Gone, was the draconequus’ previous aesthetic - regaining its footing, the creature rose to it’s full stature. Upon it’s chest, adorned a modified Starfleet outfit, almost identical to the original series, save for small holes for the creature’s wings. It gazed at Sheldon with all-knowing eyes, a faint grin emerging across it’s devilishly expression. It became apparent the creature’s over-the-top theatrics weren't as random as initially perceived, he knew what he was doing; trying to provoke a reaction. And it was working. “Captain Q, of the USS Enterprise-D - at your service, Dr Sheldon Cooper.” ... John de Lancie is… roleplaying with me? The thunderous drumming of Sheldon’s heartbeat battered his ribcage, his tremulous breath fluctuating uncontrollably. “I-is that really you, Mister de Lancie?” “No,” stated the draconequus, bringing a claw to it’s mouth as  it let out a huge yawn. “In fact, I’m not Q either.” “Still… if I were John de Lancie,” continued the creature, “I’d be asking for an apology for that awkward plateau of Italian cuisine, that was our previous encounter, wouldn't you agree?” A bewildering burning sensation scorched Sheldon’s thighs; only by glancing downwards did he discover a searing trail of boiling spaghetti oozing out of his pockets, and down the sides of his legs. “Wha-” gasped Sheldon, stumbling backwards in a vain attempt to distance himself from the strange creature. Despite his best efforts, no amount of scrubbing would halt the never-ending spiral of spaghetti which continued to pool forth. “How did you - who are you?” demanded Sheldon, plugging both his pockets with his wrists. His sickly expression morphed into a nauseating green, as his fists lay imprisoned in an ocean of slimy strings of pasta, oil and sauce. “Now, now, Sheldon - I’m disappointed in you. I honestly thought someone as intellectually gifted as yourself would have figured it out by now, I mean, isn't it obvious?” “Excuse me?” said Sheldon, unplugging his hands from the Italian cauldron that was brewing in his pockets to point a dramatic finger at his adversary. “If you’re that familiar with my current profession then it should be apparent to you that I am, in fact, a physicist; not some gypsy fortune-teller capable of harnessing fictitious telepathy, the likes of Professor X.” “You and I are the same, Sheldon,” proclaimed the draconequus, ignoring the physicist’s previous statement. “Two sides of the same coin.” “Enough of the cryptic analogies, what are you getting at?” demanded Sheldon. “Here, let me show you,” added the creature, a quick snap of his fingers instigating a bright, blue veil, which soon deluged Sheldon’s vision, as well as the surrounding area. The unknown vapour was dense. Thick enough to completely obscure all perceivable aesthetic, leaving the physicist isolated within an uncertain echelon of sapphire smog. “I may not possess an authoritative degree in Chemistry, but I don’t need one to inform you of the legal ramifications of plasma scorching aluminum oxide to create blue smoke, on a public premises!” “Now, now, Sheldon - let’s not jump to conclusions,” echoed the draconequus, it’s omnipotent voice emanated from all directions, simultaneously.   “Ask yourself, Sheldon, how did you get here?” “If you’re referring to the forest in which we both currently reside; I walked,” said Sheldon, a frown emerging across his expression. “Surely your mental capacity can’t be that atrociously deficient, that you fail to recall yourself, requesting my presence in the first place.” “No, no, no, before the campsite, before I called you over; how did you get here?” persisted the creature. “I walked, took a train, and then walked; in that order,” retorted Sheldon, cupping his hands over his ears. “Now would you please reveal yourself, and refrain from vocalizing your intone in such a way, that it envelops my whereabouts and inundates my every orientation.  It’s incredibly nauseating, and I fear an unwanted psychedelic experience may ensure - I believe ‘trippy’ is the term, used by the tree-huggers.” “Okay, we’re not making any progress here,” dismissed the creature, an exaggerated cough escaping it’s throat. “Let’s try this, instead…” As if orchestrated beforehand, a sudden beam of luminescent energy surfaced before Sheldon’s eyes, it’s fluorescent glow merged together - forming the silhouette of a familiar pony. Sheldon would have been forgiven for mistaking the strange, esoteric light-source for the electromagnetic wavelengths of a Particle accelerator, but his methodical delusions were soon refuted, as the fragmented figure quickly materialized into an eerily spectral, lavender colored phantom equine. The illusory pony gazed at Sheldon with it’s large, saucer-shaped eyes. “That’s the purple horse from our unnecessary fellowship, that I've been obliged to partake in - against my will, of course,” noted Sheldon, returning the stare with caution. “Twilight Snarkle, I think it was. She claims to be the leader, but over the course of our travels, she’s yielded no noticeable, authoritative traits. I've frequently proposed a reshuffle in the commanding hierarchy, but I've been continuously outvoted by her equine compatriots, so why even bother.” The conspicuous apparition offered no immediate response, instead, maintained it’s vacant, impassive glare, which persisted to cut through Sheldon like a knife through butter. “Oh, now that’s just dreadful,” said the draconequus, hovering into view with it’s comically undersized, dissimilar wings. “Those pony folk can be such a mean bunch, especially this one.” “On the contrary, I found the purple horse to be the most tolerable of the group,” replied Sheldon, “Though her less-than-stellar convictions, and insufferable obsession with ‘friendship’ does negatively transfigure my opinion of her, she at least possesses an ounce of intellect and common sense in most circumstantial situations. Unlike the rainbow-maned one… her infuriating endeavour to thwart my every notion with her imprudent, misguided logic, makes me evermore grateful that Humankind need not capitulate to the demands of talking equines in real life.” “I have absolutely no idea what you just said, Sheldon-my-boy!” admitted the draconequus, gleefully fluttering towards the physicist, before offering a playful nudge. “But that’s fine, because I’m pretty sure it segways perfectly into the point I was going to make in the first place.” An abrupt snap of the creature’s fingers instigated yet another apparel shift. This time, the draconequus wore a bold, expertly contrived, black tuxedo. An extra large bag of popcorn lay nestled between his right arm, whilst he scooped up handfuls with his left. “Take it away, Miss Sparkle,” the creature requested, in between mouthfuls. The previously motionless phantom pony nodded it’s head in acknowledgement, and took a deep breath, closing it’s eyes in concentration. It’s partially translucent lungs now filled with air, it took a confident step forward and began it’s performance. “Dear Princess Celestia, I love books! Books are great, reading is healthy and should be encouraged! My favorite book is ‘Lament of a Conjurer: Volume five’ by Star Swirl the Bearded! I like this book because it’s about magic, and I like magic too! When I was just a filly, I was enrolled into Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, where I learned about magic! I was so good at magic, that Princess Celestia took me under her wing and made me her apprentice! She sent me to Ponyville to learn about the magic of friendship! I like friendship too! My favorite friends are: Applejack, Fluttershy, Rarity, Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash…” “Dear lord, make it stop!” whaled Sheldon, shaking his head in discomfort. “I’m still oblivious to whatever mumbo-jumbo point, this regrettably perplexing nonsense has been supposedly leading up to. It’s like the disappointing grand finale of the TV series Lost, all over again… I still repent buying the Blu-ray Box set.” “The point is; horses don’t talk,” stated the draconequus, rummaging through his popcorn bag. “So how is it that that horse can talk? You've been talking to horses for the past twenty-four hours, did you not think to point out this discrepancy?” “Really?” snorted Sheldon, “Is this the supposed epitome of yourself, calling me over here - to promptly blow my mind, and reveal to me that, in fact, none of this actually exists? That in reality, I lay unconscious in the cold corridor of my University’s physics department. Do you take me for a fool?” “So… you know, then?” “Of course, I know!” sneered Sheldon, crossing his arms. “The truth couldn't have appeared more obvious, even if it tried. What other scientific explanation could have presented itself, in the face of six abnormally colored, cringe-worthy, talking equines. I've never wielded, nor utilized any illegal substance or narcotic, and I don’t partake in the consumption of alcoholic beverages.” “Well then, why didn't you say so!” bemused the draconequus, a final snap of it’s fingers returned the heavily altered environment back to it’s original, calm state. “Now that we've got all the boring bits out the way, I believe some introductions are in order.” “I’d argue these subsequent introductions are objectionably belated, and should have been disclosed long before this conversation even initiated,” snorted Sheldon, “But please, continue.” “I am Discord, spirit of chaos and disharmony,” proclaimed the creature, stepping forward with confidence. “I’m also the personification of your subconscious, so you could say I run the show around here.” “You’re the manifestation of my subconscious? That’s a bold claim,” stated Sheldon, bringing an inquisitive hand to his chin. “If that’s truly the case, assist my departure - wake me up, right now - let me be done with this place.” “Oh, Sheldon…” began Discord, a melodramatic purr in his tone. “I would love nothing more than to send you back home, really, I would.” “Well then, what’s the problem?” “The problem,” declared Discord, reaching into the depths of his left earlobe, only to emerge seconds later, a wax-covered scroll clutched between his yellow, bony fingers. “The problem, are these six ponies.” “I’m not touching that,” said Sheldon, prompting the draconequus to unfurl the waxy parchment from a safe, germ-free distance. With comfortable space between the feculent manuscript and Sheldon, the physicist examined its contents at arm’s length. The worn scroll depicted the six ominous portraits of six familiar ponies. Each stood in front of prison-esq measurement wall, holding a name-card between their hooves. Each gave a stern, merciless stare at the would-be camera, photographing their final conviction. It didn't take long for Sheldon to arrive at an abrupt conclusion. “These are the same horses of whom I've been sharing my company.” “Why yes! They are indeed,” concurred the draconequus, nimbly re-rolling the parchment back into it’s original spiral, before thrusting it’s body up a nostril. “And it’s our job to get rid of them.” “What do you mean, our job?” asked Sheldon, recoiling his eyes from the two mucus tunnels, embroiled in the creature’s repulsive antics. “Unless you’re suggesting I’m currently living a homologous existence, straight out of the movie Inception - and these ponies are, in fact, dream extractors, infiltrating my subconscious to plant an idea relative to whatever corporate espionage shenanigans are unfolding in the real world.” “Sure, whatever, why not,” said Discord. “The details are irrelevant, what is relevant though, is that until we rid Equestria of these six ponies, you’ll never wake up.” “Never wake up?” repeated Sheldon. “While that’s certainly an incentive, you’ll forgive me if I question the cognitive reasoning utilized in arriving at that conclusion. I’m not in a coma, I’m unconscious.” “Oh, Sheldon - do you really not believe your own subconscious, don’t you trust yourself?” asked Discord, inching closer to the disgruntled physicist. “Come on, Sheldon, you’re better than this, when was the last time you've ever been wrong about, well, anything?” “Yes, well, as flattering as your comments are; how am I to be sure they represent nothing more than a ruthlessly calculated red herring, masquerading as a trojan horse, carefully planted to appeal to my emotional fallacies and concede with your unverified argument.” “Oh~ Sheldon, woe is me, my heart bleeds at such an disconcerting accusation,” bellowed Discord. “Surely, if this were just some scheme, someone with your intelligence would easily see through it.” “That’s true, I would,” conceded Sheldon, his eyes panning across the nearby shrubbery. “Well then, specifics aside, I assume you've conceived a thoughtfully precise, laid-out plan, on how we’re actually going to eliminate these equines?” “Why yes, I have!” beamed Discord, bouncing over to Sheldon’s side with an unprecedented level of enthusiasm. He reached behind his ear, before pulling out a large, stained map - seemingly from nowhere. “We, and by we, I mean you, are going to sneak into Twilight’s tent, and switch her map for this fake one. Easy, right?” “Okay…” began Sheldon, grasping the map with a hesitant hand. “And just how is this relevant whatsoever?” “Oooh, goody - I’m so pleased that you asked!” said Discord, clearing his throat before adorning a sombre expression. “Twilight and her friends - and, by contrast - you, are headed south, in search of the Mazorak Caves, or some nonsense like that.” “Against my will,” added Sheldon. “But please, continue.” “Right, so anyhow, Princess Celestia has given Twilight a map, which we can only assume she’s being using up until this point to navigate through the jungle,” explained Discord. “Now, she’s making awfully alarming progress, and seems to be closing in on these caves rather quickly; we can’t have that.” “We can’t?” “We can’t.” “Now, if Twilight keeps up this pace, well, we’ll be in trouble,” continued Discord. “You see, I have this special amulet, it’s a pretty nifty little thing, let’s me do a bunch of fun things. But, I can’t use it all the time, I need to return it to the cave every twenty-four hours to, err, recharge it.” “Rechargeable amulets?” repeated Sheldon. “I wish I could spontaneously appear more surprised, but I fear my predicament has finally desensitized me to accept the harsh truth that I really am caught between a rock and a crazy place.” “Yes, yes, very interesting - back to what I was saying,” interjected the draconequus. “The plan, our plan, is lure Twilight and her friends - using the fake map - to an ambush point. You’ll go with them, of course, and pretend to be none the wiser.  Once there, you’ll announce your defection, I’ll zap em’ with the amulet and boom! There'll be candy n’ streamers and party hats, and everybody will be celebrating and blah, blah, blah… I haven’t thought the last bit through yet, but it doesn't matter.” “And just to confirm, if I partake in this, you’ll send me back home, right?” “Right.” “Well, I suppose I have no choice,” said Sheldon, folding the stained map, before tucking it down his back pocket. “And, I should probably add, since this is a covert operation, we should follow the stereotypical undercover agent protocol, and refer to each other using alternate aliases.” “Uh, well, don’t take this personally, Sheldon, but I was hoping to avoid contact with you until the ambush itself, as it were,” admitted Discord, gazing sheepishly to the side of the physicist. “It’s not that I find you completely insufferable, no, not anything of the sort! I just have…. other arrangements I need to check on, so aliases shouldn't be necessary.” “Nonsense, of course aliases are necessary!” objected Sheldon, much to the dismay of the draconequus. “From this point onwards, you’ll be known as ‘Q’, and I’ll be ‘Spock’. We’ll refer to the ambush as ‘Operation: Bronco Butcher’. If I need to contact you, I’ll use tree sap to paint a message in Klingon, so make sure you’re proficient with the language, and-” “Yes, bravo - wonderful idea, Sheldon - truly mesmerising stuff,” interjected Discord, half-heartedly. “I should probably be leaving right about now, so unless you have any questions, I suggest we part ways.” “Iv sheldon? spock pongwIj'e', qaw.” “What?” “That’s Klingon for: Who is Sheldon? I’m Spock, remember.” “Ah yes, ‘Klingon’, of course,” said Discord, his slowly drooping eyes matched his dull expression rather eloquently. “Farewell, ‘Spock’, I’ll be in touch if I need to, albeit reluctantly.” “I should hope so,” said Sheldon.”The Devil’s in the details, as my mother says. If any changes are made to the plan without my knowledge, and I’m not informed, well, I’d be effectively rendered as one of Heisenberg's particles; I know where the plan takes place, or I know when the plan takes place, but I can’t know both…” The whirling wind swept over the nearby forestry, the branches crackling to life in response. Mountains of leaves dashed across the grassy undergrowth, dancing to the fine-tuned harp of mother nature. The dubious silence quickly became apparent - as did the seemingly absent reply - with a swift survey of the area. The draconequus had already departed. “Well, that’s rude,” mused Sheldon, shaking off the few crumpled leaves that had landed on his shoe. “I wasn't even offered a hot beverage, who knew subconscious embodiments were so impertinent.” He sighed, reaching into his back pocket for the folded map. It’s surface was tarnished, it’s corners ragged, like that of an old treasure map you’d find in Pirate movies, usually from Disney. “I shudder to imagine how people lived before Google Maps,” pondered Sheldon, beginning his journey back towards the camp site. “The prospect of relying on a flimsy piece of paper for navigation is absurd, anarchal even.” He gave the worn map one last glance before tucking it back into the depths of his buttoned pouch. I suppose I should get this over with. * * * Twilight yawned, slowly sinking deeper into the ocean of warm, cushy fabric on which she lay. Her consciousness drifting away, like that of a shipwrecked survivor, sitting atop a wooden raft,  floating along the tropical sea. All the day’s stresses and worries didn't matter anymore. She could visualize them, floating away like bubbles. She even named them as they passed her, ascending high into the clouds. Her eyelids were heavy, like two massive wrecking balls they pulled her down, deeper and deeper, submerging her in the big blue waves of ecstasy. She could feel herself letting go… coasting along a silk road into the realm of slumber. But then she heard it. It was subtle at first, like a pack of rats scurrying amongst clutter. Except this was a jungle, and there’s no such thing as ‘jungle rats’, at least beknown to Twilight. The unlikely possibility of furry rodent intruders was quickly dismissed however, with the unmistakable ‘rip’ of peeling velcro, emerging from corner of her tent. Twilight gulped. The truth suddenly became crystal clear, and it terrified her. Someone is in her tent. Someone is going through her saddlebag. She isn't alone. “H-hello?” said Twilight, the cold air condensing her shaky breath into hazy clouds of steam. “Is anypony there?” In retrospect, the non-existent response should have provided comfort, maybe all this was just in her head after all. She would love nothing more than to conform to such silly, though, reassuring thoughts. Ignorance is bliss, as they say. Shivering, she grasped her sleeping bag tightly. The cold tingle of sweat ran down her spine; her hooves shook with fearful tremors. Having suffered from severe night terrors as a filly, Twilight knew the longer she waited, the harder - and scarier - it’d be to confront whatever had taken residence in her humble abode. She had to act soon. Still shaking, she silently prepared an illumination spell, the brightest she had. Using magic when you’re half-asleep is never a good idea, and often proved unsuccessful, yet recent events had given her somewhat of an adrenaline rush. Well, here goes nothing… Within a flash, a bright, almost blinding beam of light, shot forth - as did Twilight herself - from beneath the covers. Her bagged eyes and dreary expression didn't appear nearly as confident or intimidating as Twilight had hoped, yet, against all odds, served their purpose adequately, startling the would be intruder who elicit a terrified shriek. With the tent now fully illuminated, an exhausted Twilight stepped forwards to confront the trespasser, who, as it turns out, wasn't nearly as threatening as initially perceived. However, on a scale of ‘Something you’d least like to bump into in a dark alley’, this particular culprit would likely score much, much higher. “Sheldon?” “Oh, hello Twilight,” said Sheldon, sheepishly inching closer to the tent’s exit. “How’s your menstrual cycle proceeding? Relatively painless, I hope.” “I- what?” sputtered Twilight. “What are you- why are you here? Why have you been looking through my saddlebag?” “Yes, good question, I’d also ask that, were I in your predicament,” replied Sheldon, avoiding eye contact as best he could. “Now, to answer such a question, we first need to consider the philosophical implications of searching through a storage compartment…” “Sheldon, just answer the question-” “...The laws of Quantum Mechanics state, that there’s absolutely no sense in questioning a particle’s definite position until it’s measured. With that in mind, I propose the following hypothesis: Until you actively observe myself accessing your private storage device, there’s no point in questioning whether I did look through, or, hypothetically, what my intentions might have been.” “Celestia help me, Sheldon, stop trying to weasel out of it!” said Twilight, trudging over to inspect her baggage. “What was you really looking for, huh? It’s nearly three o'clock in the morning for pony’s sake! You’re obviously here for a reason.” “Fine, I concede,” added Sheldon. “I was searching for…” Come on, Sheldon, think. You have an Eidetic memory and an IQ of 187. What are middle aged males usually looking for when they peruse the personal belongings of close female acquaintances? “... Female undergarments.” “Uh,” began a speechless Twilight. Surely she’d misheard that. Whether she did or not, the answer wouldn't conceal the now-blazing inferno present in her cheeks. “I-I didn't pack- I mean, I don’t own any, err, undergarments,” stuttered Twilight, a volcano of butterflies erupting in the pit of her stomach. “If you don’t mind me asking, uh, w-why are you looking for them in the first place?” “Oh, you know, the usual reasons.” “And, uh, w-what are the usual reasons?” asked Twilight, afraid yet strangely intrigued by the answer she’d receive. “I haven’t the faintest idea,” admitted Sheldon, strolling briskly to the tent’s entrance. “Good night, Twilight. Also, in the unlikely event of a nuclear holocaust, good luck.” “I- uh, thanks,” replied Twilight, peering at the physicist with awe. The awkwardness was certainly palpable, so thick in fact, you could cut it with a knife. With little to no experience with stallions, let alone relationships in general, Twilight was at a loss. Was her relationship with Sheldon as distant as she thought? She didn't figure him the type that was into those sorts of things… she needed advice. Perhaps Rarity would be a good place to start. “Remember, save your bottlecaps,” said Sheldon, withdrawing through the zippered opening, out into the campsite. “And don’t buy any plasma weapons, they’re useless.” Twilight merely nodded in acknowledgement, waiting for the physicist to fully depart from earshot before letting out a much needed sigh. Contrary to her initial beliefs, this adventure wasn't nearly as straightforward as she’d thought. The dynamic had shifted, and it’s taken an uncomfortable, incredibly confusing turn.