Good, I don’t smell like alcohol anymore, thought Cheerilee as she lay in her bed. It had been a week since she had received the news of Twist’s death and Cheerilee had been hitting the cider every night to numb the pain that refused to go away. She didn’t want somepony at the funeral later today to confuse her for her friend Berry Punch who often reeked of the stuff. What Cheerilee did smell like could easily be remedied by taking a long overdue bath. She hadn’t bathed, brushed her teeth or even left her home since the accident. She had only eaten a few fresh chanterelles, the last of which ran out last night. She hadn’t done much moving around except to get a fresh bottle of cider and use the toilet. When she did move, she would crawl on her belly like a sea turtle traversing a beach to lay its eggs, lacking the will to stand and walk properly on all fours. She concluded that if she started getting ready now, she would have just enough time to wash and dress at her own pace which was what she wanted most right now. She didn’t want to hurry and cause her heart to beat faster, not when poor Twist’s wasn’t beating at all. With a weak groan, Cheerilee began to crawl backwards off the bed, her left hind hoof knocking an empty cider bottle across the floor as she tried to establish a firm position on the floor. When she was finally off the bed, she quickly sat down and looked for her security blanket, the one she had kept nearby since the accident: a picture frame.
It lay on the edge of the bed nearest her. In it was a photo of her current class taken while Twist was around. Cheerilee gently picked the frame up with her mouth and took it with her as she dragged herself to the bathroom. She had left all the lights on in her house around the clock. It was easier to do this than to stand up to reach for the light switch every time she entered or left a room. There was one advantage of entering her bathroom via crawling: she didn’t have to look at herself in the medicine cabinet mirror. The way she was feeling, she didn’t want to see her reflection any sooner than she needed to.
She opened her bottle of bubble bath, poured a sufficient amount into the tub, positioned the tub drain switch to stop it up and then turned on the hot water full blast. As the tub filled with water, she looked at Twist’s image in the photo and grinned internally. Taking her time, she placed a kiss on the protective sheet of glass above Twist’s image and then held the frame to her heart, hugging it gently.
Rest in peace, my sweet little angel, thought Cheerilee. I’ll visit you later today to pay my respects – and to say goodbye.
Once the water had reached the preferred level, Cheerilee held the frame between her teeth, turned off the water and slowly climbed into the tub. She groaned again, this time due to how pleasant the hot water felt. Before she sat down for her soak, she opened up the frame stand and set the frame over the far edge of the tub so that she could view the photo as she bathed. Her eyes were drawn to a different student in the photo: Diamond Tiara. Silver Spoon was also in it, right by Diamond Tiara’s side. The expression on the pink filly’s face was one of irritation, as though relenting to having her magnificent countenance captured on film by the unworthy was some great nuisance to her and that she would only grant the photographer a smile if she felt like it.
Cheerilee frowned. She knew that Diamond Tiara’s image was in this photo and she had tried her best to ignore it. Now, it drew her in and she couldn’t look away. Tears budded in her eyes as her frown grew into a full scowl and as hot as the bath water still was, her blood boiled even hotter.
Cheerilee had been bullied herself back in grade school. It was a very unpleasant time in her life. Being picked on by this bully had become a daily ritual and Cheerilee’s self worth had been whittled down to nearly nothing. Nopony would listen to her when she asked for help. The spreading of rumors, the namecalling, the thrown objects – they never stopped and there was no relief in sight. To everypony’s surprise but her own, she finally snapped and assaulted her bully in full view of a school groundskeeper who had to physically separate the two girls, an act which proved to be difficult since Cheerilee had become a seething pinball of anger and squirmed out of the groundskeeper’s grasp several times to continue her assault on her tormentor-turned-victim. Naturally, she got in trouble while the other filly was painted as the wounded party. Oddly enough, it all worked out in the end. The bully had even apologized for bringing Cheerilee to that point and Cheerilee, being a kind pony at heart, forgave her. Their relationship improved dramatically and the now reformed bully even went on to become one of Cheerilee’s closest friends – Anita Mare, a pink-maned earth pony who would later be voted into office as the mayor of Ponyville.
Many years had passed since then but she never forgot the helplessness and pain she felt from being picked on needlessly. She imagined her beloved Twist – the sweetest, most innocent child that she had ever met – being subjected to that same feeling by Diamond Tiara. It made her sad. And when she remembered that Twist was now deceased thanks to Diamond Tiara, it made her furious.
Unable to contain her fury a moment longer, she belted out a thunderous scream of\anguish and stomped the frame in with one strike of her right hind hoof. The glass shattered, leaving a spiderweb pattern behind from which tiny fragments of broken glass dropped into the water. She regretted destroying her photo, remembering that Twist and was also on it. She had other copies of this particular snapshot in storage somewhere so this wasn’t the end of the world.
Hopefully, history wouldn’t repeat itself but who could say for sure?
Carousel Boutique was generally a peaceful place once its doors were closed for the day. For Opalescence, the shop was anything but peaceful on this day.
And that was because a demon was invading her home.
Opal had dealt with this silent menace before and she thought she had seen the last of it. It had to be a demon. No ordinary creature could survive being swatted so many times and still move about so effortlessly. Neither her owner Rarity nor her friend Twilight ever seemed to take this intruder as seriously as she did (they even laughed!) so it was up to her to vanquish it. The demon’s motivations were a mystery to Opal. It didn’t seem to want food, affection or any of the other comforts to be had in Carousel Boutique. As far as Opal could tell, it ran amok for the sake of being an evil, unwelcome pest. As a majestic and noble creature, it was Opal’s duty to smite the demon and make Carousel Boutique safe for cats and ponies alike. With eyes like a hawk and steel springs for legs, Opal leapt from her cover behind the sofa and attacked her most despised and persistent foe.
Twilight chuckled as she entertained Opalescence with the red beam of light that emanated from her horn she pointed at the floor and moved about quickly. She was passing the time while Rarity put the finishing touches on a formal black dress suitable for a funeral and worthy of royalty.
“Thanks again for making this dress for me on such short notice, Rarity,” said Twilight. “I really appreciate it.”
“Think nothing of it, Twilight,” said Rarity, manipulating a needle and thread via levitation and sewing together pieces of black fabric. “It’s not every day that a princess comes knocking on my door asking me to make an ensemble so...”
“Black? Somber? Depressing?” Twilight ceased her spell and approached Rarity. Opalescence walked away, in need of some sunlight in which she would take a victory nap.
“Try all of the above,” said Rarity. “This will be the first funeral I’ve ever attended. Have you been to one before?”
“No, and quite frankly, I’m pretty nervous about it. I barely shared two words with Twist and I’m supposed to deliver her eulogy; Princess Celestia’s orders. How’s Sweetie Belle taking the news about Twist?”
“She’s still a bit shaken up by this whole affair but she’ll pull through eventually. It’s Apple Bloom I’m worried about. Sweetie Belle told me that the poor dear used to be friends with Twist and that she’s taking her death pretty hard. I supposed that she would, seeing as how she lost her own parents at such a tender age. Twilight? Would you indulge my muse by allowing me to make one small addition to your dress? It’s simply begging for a matching cloak. I realize that this ensemble is for a funeral but inspiration beckons.”
“Very well, you have my permission. You know I trust your judgment.”
“Thank you ever so much. I promise you’ll adore it.”
Rarity levitated a bolt of some very posh looking black velvet from the wall and drew out a length sufficient for her needs. She then levitated two pairs of scissors and, to save time, utilized them simultaneously to cut out the pieces for the cloak.
“And what about Scootaloo?”
“I spoke with Rainbow Dash and she said that Scootaloo’s doing all right. That filly’s no stranger to adversity. She’s the toughest of that lot in my opinion. My sister tends to cry at the drop of a hat.”
“I can’t imagine where she picked up that particular idiosyncrasy,” muttered Twilight to herself before speaking up at an audible volume. “I’m just grateful that we’re all surrounded by so many friends and loved ones to support us in our time of need... even though it reminds me how some ponies don’t have a circle of friends like us. But it also serves as a reminder that my role as the Princess of Friendship is more important than ever.”
“Indeed. Oh, have you heard that the two fillies responsible for bringing Twist out to the tracks aren’t even going to be punished?”
Twilight let out a small gasp of astonishment.
“No, I haven’t.”
“Really? It was front page news. Don’t you get the Ponyville Express delivered to your door?”
“I guess Spike must have swiped it to read the funnies. What did the story say?”
“It seems that a hotshot lawyer convinced the judge to reduce the charges to reckless conduct, to which both fillies pled guilty – and their sentences were suspended.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that. The whole process took under seventy two hours but, yes, they were set free just like that. I simply cannot understand how Princess Celestia could possibly travel all the way to Saddle Arabia when our legal system here at home is in such dire need of reform. Justice should always be served... but not on a silver platter and never to the highest bidder.”
“You mean the judge was in Filthy Rich’s pocket? That's preposterous! Why hasn’t anypony done anything about this?”
“You really must work on getting rid of that naivete, Twilight. They’re called backroom dealings for a reason. Judge Harshly isn’t so foolish as to issue a receipt that Filthy Rich would leave lying around for somepony to find. Nopony would be able to prove anything but there’s little doubt that Filthy Rich and Hoity Toity bought their daughters’ freedom. A wrongful death suit will almost certainly come next but nearly everypony agrees that they’ll simply settle out of court.”
Twilight walked slowly to the window to peer at some fillies outside having fun skipping a rope. Would these innocent foals grow up to become corrupt officials hoofing their nose in the face of justice?
“What is a life worth, I wonder?” asked Twilight rhetorically.
Rarity paused. The question hit home.
“Indeed,” said Rarity, placing her work to one side. “Twilight?”
“Yes, Rarity?”
“I have a bit of a moral dilemma and I was hoping that I could have a moment of your time so that you could give me some advice.”
“Of course. You know you can talk to me about anything but I must say that I’m a little surprised to hear that you of all ponies are having a moral dilemma. You’re one of the most level-headed mares I know.”
“Thank you for the lovely compliment. Now then, Pinkie Pie and I were playing cards last week and-”
“Wait. Horse-drawn and Quartered?”
“Why, yes.”
“Did you sing that annoying song of yours and now she won’t play with you anymore?”
“I beg your pardon? Diamonds of Three, How I Love Thee is not an annoying song. It’s divine.”
“The first fifty times, maybe. Why do you think Rainbow Dash and Applejack refuse to play with you anymore?”
“I assumed it was because they were sore losers but apparently it’s because they have no appreciation for fine music.” Rarity cleared her throat and attempted to get back on topic. “As I was saying, Pinkie said that if she and I were the Horse-drawn and Quartered earth ponies, she’d volunteer to let me climb on her shoulders so that I could escape.”
“Awww, what a sweet thing to say.”
“Yes, quite. I was moved by her statement and I thanked her but then, without so much as batting an eyelash, she said that she was sure that I’d do the same for her... and, well... I concurred for appearance’s sake but I believe that her faith in my courage may have been misplaced.” She nuzzled Twilight, more out of a need for comfort than anything else. Twilight returned the nuzzle with a grin, having never met a friend’s nuzzle she didn’t like. “I love Pinkie as dearly as I love you, Applejack and the other girls... and I’d risk my life to keep any of you from harm... but to surrender it to a torturer’s tools? Ugh!” Rarity levitated a paper fan and waved it in front of her face to cool herself off. “The thought of being carved up and taken apart like an apple pie is enough to make me feel faint. And yet, I represent the spirit of generosity. How can I be at peace with myself if I’m unwilling to give as much as Pinkie Pie is willing to give?”
“And that’s what’s bothering you?”
Rarity reviewed her confessional to see if there was anything she had left out.
“Ish,” she replied.
“Then I have some advice for you if you’re interested in hearing it – but first, I’m going to have to issue a royal decree.”
“A decree?”
Twilight closed her eyes and shook her head.
“A royal decree,” she reiterated. She levitated a hairbrush from Rarity’s dresser and tapped the back of the brush against Rarity’s nose twice. “I, Princess Twilight Sparkle, do hereby decree that anypony found using ‘-ish’ as a word shall receive a smack with this. ‘-ish’ is a suffix, not a word.”
Rarity grinned and genuflected.
“All hail Twilight Sparkle,” she said. “Princess of Grammar Enforcement.”
“Generosity is the virtue of giving that which you have to spare to those who are less fortunate,” stated Twilight. “It’s up to every individual to make their own determination as to what they have in abundance to donate. Your life falls into a completely different category. You’re either alive and have one to give or you’re dead and you don’t. Life is precious and it is not to be given lightly. Your life in particular is certainly very precious to me.”
“Ohhhh,” bubbled Rarity, who was too touched by Twilight’s lovely comment to stifle herself.
“Nopony is going to be offended because you have a survival instinct. In a situation like the Horse-drawn and Quartered one, who could blame anypony for doing what they had to do? You shouldn’t feel one-upped by Pinkie because of a hypothetical situation that you can’t bring yourself to match and she wouldn’t feel hurt if you didn’t follow through with it. And if you did leave her to die, she wouldn't hate you for very long. Your life is yours to risk or give and you’re not obligated to be selfless to a fault, even if it means falling a little short of living up to the element you represent. When your time comes, which I hope is a very long time from now, I’m sure that everypony will say ‘Nopony gave more of herself than Rarity’. In fact, I’ll bet that it’ll be written on your tombstone.”
“Hmm. Well, it’s sweet but it’s a bit on the trite side for an epitaph. I mean, it hardly does me justice, now, does it? How about ‘Nopony made more beautiful ensembles... or was more attractive... or was a more talented singer... or a greater philanthropist... or-”
“You know that engravers charge by the letter, right?”
“I’ll be deceased. I doubt the cemetery would be able to send me the bill in Elysium.”
“Your family would be the ones to receive the bill. And it’s bad luck to have your own tombstone made while you’re still alive.”
“Hmm. I see your point. How about ‘Best Pony’? Only eight letters long. Economical and accurate, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Ehhhhhhhhhhhhhh...” Twilight perused her impeccable vocabulary for the most suitable word to sum up her opinion. After a few seconds, she found a means of expressing herself that Rarity would either appreciate or protest. “Ish.” She tilted her head and smiled.
Rarity sputtered at Twilight’s temerity.
“Oh, I see how it is; you can say ‘ish’ but I cAAAH!!” Rarity had cut herself off with a scream due to Twilight striking her once on the backside with the back of her levitated hairbrush. Rarity quickly sat down to protect herself from a second attack.
“Princess’s prerogative, baby,” said Twilight.
“Good heavens, Twilight – not on mon petit derriere, sil vous plait!”
“Oh, come on, I didn’t hit you that hard. So, did my little pep talk make you feel better about death?”
“Yes, I believe so. I may still have a fear of death... but I think I can live with it.”
“Very clever.”
“I thought you might like that. Thank you for your advice, Twilight.”
“Any time.”
The two friends closed their eyes and crossed horns gently, a significant and intimate gesture in unicorn society. It expressed love, respect and mutual admiration.
Levitating her completed ensemble, Twilight headed for the door to return home and relax before the ceremony. She paused, standing at the door.
“Rarity?” she asked.
“Yes, Twilight?”
“That hypothetical situation that Pinkie gave you? The Horse-drawn and Quartered one?”
“Yes?”
“I feel the same way. I’d die for you, too.”
Rarity was taken aback, wondering why Twilight would attempt to exacerbate her compunctions regarding Pinkie’s sacrifice by making a similar statement and putting her on the spot, especially so soon after opening up to her about it. Rarity’s confusion quickly evaporated as she noted the sardonic expression on Twilight’s face. It was apparent to Rarity that teasing the common ponies was also a princess’s prerogative.
“Thanks,” said Rarity with an acerbic tone. “I’d let you.”
“See you at the funeral home,”
“Ciao.”
As Twilight closed the door behind her, Rarity picked up the hairbrush and put it back in its proper place on the dresser. She began to walk toward the stairs to the kitchen but suddenly stopped in her tracks. She looked behind her and returned to the dresser. She levitated the hairbrush once again, examining it. She knew that she was alone but she looked around to see if Sweetie Belle was present, just to be on the safe side. When the coast was clear, she gave herself a sharp smack on the bottom with the hairbrush. She flinched and squealed with delight. During her brief stay in the custody of the Diamond Dogs, Rarity had developed an erotic appreciation for a good spank on the bottom – but Twilight didn’t know that when she struck her with the brush. Now, Rarity was feeling antsy and with Twilight gone, she could give herself a treat. Closing her eyes and gritting her teeth, Rarity began paddling herself repeatedly with the brush. She cooed and winced from the delicious stinging feeling on her buns. She’d be wearing a dress to the funeral so she could afford to add a roseate hue to her rump.
Rarity opened her eyes and what she saw caused her to drop the brush.
Sitting in front of Rarity was Opalescence, staring at her with no small amount of confusion on her face. The feline’s jaw dropped, causing the mouse toy she had in her mouth to fall to the floor with a squeak. She had entered the room because she overheard Rarity use the word chow and thought a treat was being offered. In Opal’s opinion, this was about as far from a treat as one could hope to get.
“Don’t judge me, Opal,” whimpered Rarity curtly, her northern cheeks almost as red as her southern ones. “You know that sometimes mama’s a bad girl and must be disciplined!”
Many mourners were in attendance for Twist’s funeral and everypony agreed that Twist herself would have been surprised by the turnout. This was Ponyville’s first funeral for a foal. It motivated a large number of Ponyville parents to have frank discussions with their younger children about railroad safety and the fatal repercussions of ignoring it. Mayor Mare wanted this to be Ponyville’s last funeral for a foal. To that end, she decreed that the length of tracks which ran under the bridge was a safety hazard and motioned to have it decommissioned immediately. The Equestria Railroad Company complied with Mayor Mare’s wishes. An alternate length of tracks that went the long way around to the Ponyville station would be constructed later that month. With the tracks on open land, anypony could clearly see a train’s arrival from any angle and cross carefully.
Twist’s casket was exquisite – or at least as exquisite as a foal-sized casket could reasonably be. It was made of the finest quality polished mahogany. The lid was kept closed due to Twist’s remains being too badly damaged to display her body. The bier upon which the casket rested was covered in an elegant white drapery. A framed 8” by 10” photograph of Twist was placed atop the casket along with flowers that were donated by local florists Daisy, Lily and Roseluck. Everypony commented on how lovely Twist looked in that photo. It was taken by a professional photographer who had opened up a studio in Ponyville. The image featured Twist clad in a shimmering powder blue party dress, smiling serenely with her eyes partially closed as she sat in a bed of flowers. She looked every bit the angel that those who were closest to her knew her to be.
Cheerilee was the first of the mourners to arrive. Upon entering the funeral parlor and greeting Twist’s parents, she sat beside the casket and stared at the photo as tears flowed down her cheeks. It was all she had the strength or will to do.
Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle walked along either side of Apple Bloom. Though they weren’t as close to Twist as Apple Bloom had been, they wanted to be there to support their friend in her time of need – and she was in dire need of support.
Apple Bloom blurted out an awkward apology to Twist’s mother about how wracked with guilt she was over how quickly she had dropped Twist like a hot potato once she had befriended Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle at a certain pony’s cute-ceanera. The formation of the Cutie Mark Crusaders and its mission statement had become such a large part of Apple Bloom’s identity that just about everything else fell by the wayside. She never intended to avoid Twist. In Apple Bloom’s own words, it just sort of happened. She had honestly meant to pick up where they had left off in their friendship. Now that Twist was gone, Apple Bloom would never have that chance – and she would regret her indifference for the rest of her life. Twist’s mother calmly explained to Apple Bloom that Twist wasn’t the kind of pony to hold a grudge and that, to the best of her knowledge, her daughter didn’t let the snub upset her – and neither should she. Apple Bloom felt much better after hearing that and she thanked Twist’s mother for putting her mind at ease.
The venerable Apple Family matriarch Granny Smith also made a point of coming to pay her respects. In her opinion, which she was never too shy to share with others, one of the worst things about being her age was how frequently ponies who were much younger than herself seemed to pass on far before their time. Speaking from experience, she reassured Twist’s parents that although it might seem impossible now, the pain of losing a child does lessen over time.
Many of Twist’s classmates showed up at the funeral. Naturally, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon were not among them. Most of the foals were numbed by the atmosphere of the funeral home. Mortality was a subject seldom discussed in class and this place was a tribute to it. The long drapes, the black clothing everypony was wearing, the somber faces – it all seemed like a morbid alien world to them. When they needed to communicate, they spoke exclusively in whispers. When they approached the casket, they each greeted Cheerilee who was seated beside it. She neither returned their greetings nor turned her head to acknowledge their presence. None of her students took the slight personally.
Rumble had a hard time dealing with the accident once he learned of his involvement as the bait used to lure Twist out to the tracks. As heavy as his heart sat in his little chest, he felt he owed it to Twist to show up and pay his respects. He hadn’t really given the idea of having a marefriend much thought. His primary interests were competitive flying, sports and comic books. He felt that Twist was one of the more approachable fillies in class and if he ever considered pursuing one as a romantic interest, Twist would have been a candidate at the very least. Love and death: two subjects that made him uncomfortable due to his lack of understanding them.
When the time came for the eulogy to begin, the funeral director approached the casket and politely asked Cheerilee if she would be seated. Cheerilee ignored him completely. Twilight also made an attempt to ask Cheerilee if she could sit down. Her request was also ignored. The funeral director spoke to Twist’s parents about her refusal to move and they decided that there was no harm in allowing Cheerilee to remain where she was as long as her presence didn’t adversely affect the proceedings.
Twilight approached the podium. As she looked out at the mourners, she wondered how many more funerals she would be called upon to eulogize. This one was at the behest of Princess Celestia but Twilight imagined that it would be a duty expected of her as Ponyville’s local princess.
“Thank you for coming, everypony,” said Twilight.
“Louder, please,” suggested Snails from the back of the room, an act which earned him a nudge from Snips.
“For those of you who are from out of town that may not know me, my name is Twilight Sparkle... uh...” Twilight slowly lifted her right wing to display it. “Princess Twilight Sparkle. I was asked by my mentor Princess Celestia to speak on her behalf as she was regrettably unable to attend today’s ceremony due to traveling abroad in the interest of improving relations with our pony brethren on foreign soil. She sends her condolences.”
“The princess has asked many things of me during and after my time as her protégé in the belief that overcoming these challenges would make me a better pony and a more seasoned princess. I can honestly say that delivering a eulogy is right up there with the most difficult challenges I have ever faced. I’ve never lost a loved one. I can only pretend to understand the grief of the bereaved. I’ve never even read a book that had a eulogy scene. On top of that, I was specifically instructed not to prepare anything beforehoof. The task before me is to offer you, Twist’s friends and family, improvised words of comfort and healing. In this, she was confident that I could deliver the goods.” Twilight nonchalantly rubbed the underside of her left forehoof against her dress and examined it. Most of the ink that was on it earlier had come off. “And while I’m embarrassed to admit it, her confidence in my ability to succeed at this exceeded my own.” Twilight blushed as she recalled the events from last night.
“You know,” said Spike as he walked around Twilight in circles, “right around now, I’d ask you something like ‘are you sure about this, Twilight?’ but this time, I’m just gonna come right out say that I’m sure that this is one of the worst ideas you’ve ever had... uh... Your Highness.”
“Oh, folderol,” said Twilight.
“Fold a what?” asked Spike.
“Folderol,” said Twilight. “It means ‘nonsense’. Technically, I’m not Princess Celestia’s student anymore,” noted Twilight. “Surely she wouldn’t object to a few teensy, weensy cram notes.”
Twilight’s quill was surrounded by a purple glow as she wrote several key points along the underside of her hoof. Once she finished writing, she placed the quill down in the inkwell and reviewed her work. Her reading was interrupted as the ink on her hoof slithered unnaturally and reformed to spell out entirely different words. Her heart froze in terror as she read the new words.
P.T.S.
In this case, I would – and I do.
P.C.
Below the last line was a caricature of Princess Celestia’s we-are-not-amused face.
Twilight fainted – but not before learning a valuable lesson: there are some things even scarier than being unprepared.
Come on, said Twilight to herself. Get back on track. Don’t make this about you.
“I wish I could say that I had the pleasure of being well acquainted with Twist,” continued Twilight. “With my studies and various royal duties taking up most of my time, our interactions were, sadly, few and far between. I spoke with Pinkie Pie who knew her better than anyone among my group of closest friends. From what I was told, I gathered what many of you already knew: Twist was a unique individual. She loved her life and she was loved by everypony who knew her. Pinkie couldn’t be here today but she did want me to offer her condolences to Twist’s family on her behalf and to apologize for her absence. With all due respect to the bereaved, my heart goes out to Pinkie as well. Our ‘spirit of laughter’ has so much respect for Twist’s family that she made a conscious decision not to attend. She felt that her reputation as somepony who makes ponies smile and laugh would have made her appearance at a funeral... inappropriate. Personally, I didn’t see it but you all know how Pinkie is when she’s set her mind to something, right?”
Twilight wasn’t expecting a chuckle from attendees a funeral but she received one nonetheless.
Hey, it looks like I’m actually doing well. Oh, but now I’ve gone and made this about Pinkie. How long have I been up here? Two minutes? That’s all? I don’t have anything else! How to I put this baby to bed? Oh, I know.
“When I was still enrolled at Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns," she continued, "I asked my mentor the Big One – what happens to ponies that pass on? She told me that a pony’s final destination depended on how they lived their lives. If one led a life of wickedness, rage and hatred, they would find themselves in the cold and harsh underground prison realm of Tartaros where they would spend eternity surrounded by the same darkness, fear and misery that they visited upon others. If one led a life filled with love, kindness and virtue, they would arrive at the Elysium fields, a welcoming place where ponies roam free and happy, surrounded by friends and bathed in warmth and light. I know that Twist can see us from Elysium right now. I’ll bet she’s eating the sweetest grass in a secret spot just behind a hill, hiding from the rest of her new friends that are playing hide and seek with her. She’s probably wishing that we weren’t sitting around feeling sad about her passing because she’s happy in her new home. We all miss Twist but we’ll see her again, Celestia willing. We just need to continue living our lives virtuously. Be good to one another. Show kindness to one another. Love one another... and you’ll all see her again. I’m just as sure of this as I am sure that seeing you again would make Twist even happier than she is now.”
I’m obviously not going to get applause but I’m curious to know how well it was received, she thought.
Cheerilee rose from her spot by the bier, walked over to Twilight and gently wrapped her forelegs about Twilight’s neck, embracing her.
“A+,” whimpered Cheerilee who managed to push a weak smile through trembling lips.
Twilight grinned and gently stroked Cheerilee’s foreleg with a hoof.