//------------------------------// // September 2 – 8:16 AM // Story: Flash Fog // by Kwakerjak //------------------------------// By now, Celestia’s late-summer sun had risen high enough into the air to begin its daily scorching of the Equestrian countryside, but the relatively arid conditions around Ponyville meant that it wasn’t particularly unbearable, especially for the weather team, who had often worked in far muggier conditions over the previous months. This, however, was of little comfort to Rainbow Dash, whose fog suit was only slightly less breathable than foam rubber. Whoever had designed this thing clearly never expected that it would need to be used in the sun for extended periods of time, as the only concession to the possibility was the material’s reflective surface—and even that seemed like it might have been unintentional. Still, this was not the time to indulge in unprofessional vices like whining and complaining. Rainbow Dash knew she had more important things to deal with, like supervising the weather team as they shut down the crosswinds on the border of the Everfree Forest or fixing the mess that she’d inadvertently caused with her amateur matchmaking attempt. The first problem was a relatively simple matter of redirecting air currents; as there weren’t any jetstreams in the area to make things difficult, this had gone quite smoothly. The second problem was another matter entirely. Rainbow Dash’s first instinct was to make some dismissive comments about Pencil Pusher, but she knew right away that that wouldn’t work. Not only might it cause Fluttershy to think less of the bureaucrat, but Pencil Pusher really didn’t deserve any put-down she could think of, particularly since he’d done nothing to create this situation in the first place. Thus, she was still attempting to work out an alternate plan while the crosswind petered out into stillness and most of the weather team left to make final preparations for the incoming fog. She was just about to head back to town to see if Fluttershy had anything else for her to do when a voice broke through her concentration. “What’s going on here? You’re flying about, but there are no clouds or winds here to drive out.” Rainbow Dash looked up to see a zebra standing just inside the Everfree Forest with a rather bemused expression on her striped face. “Oh, hey, Zecora,” she replied as she flew over to the potioneer. “We’ve actually just finished shutting down an air current to get ready for the fog that’ll be coming through in a few hours. Redirecting winds can be a little complicated, even if it doesn’t make for a good show for spectators. There’s a lot of coordinated wing-flapping involved.” Zecora’s confusion remained. “That seems an unusually tedious slog for something as mundane as a blanket of fog.” Rainbow Dash looked stunned. “Mundane? Zecora, we’re only talking about the most dangerous fog since... well... since ever, probably. I mean, why else do you think we’ve been making a big deal about it for the last two days?” Zecora looked somewhat indignant, and she stamped one of her forehooves against the ground as she answered, “There’s no need to speak in a tone quite so sour. I’ve been in my hut these last forty-eight hours.” This was definitely unexpected news. “You mean... nopony’s bothered to tell you what’s happening?” The zebra silently shook her head. “Aw, crud, how did we miss that? You really should know what’s going on, especially since the fog’s getting sent into the Everfree Forest.” “It seems there’s much to gain in allowing you to explain,” Zecora said. “Oh, uh, okay,” Rainbow Dash said uncertainly. “Well, basically, there was an accident in Cloudsdale, and there’s huge, insanely thick fog bank just north of the mountains, and because the clouds were meant as some sort of new construction material, we’re having trouble getting rid of it. Fluttershy decided that the best way to do that was to send it into the Everfree Forest so that all the pegasus magic in it disappears and it starts acting like normal fog again, which is pretty easy to deal with.” Zecora bobbed her head approvingly. “When Fluttershy was gearing up to take her test, she thought fog in the Everfree might be addressed. I gladly recounted all my observations, and Fluttershy recorded extensive notations. But enough about that—the past isn’t pressing, and it seems that the present is far more distressing. Still, I like this plan to dispel the fog’s magic. Is that why your outfit is fashionably tragic?” Rainbow let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Uh, yeah. Like I said, the fog is really thick; so thick that pegasi can’t fly through it without special protective gear like this fog suit.” There was a brief lull in the conversation, and it was at this point that Rainbow Dash came up with an idea to deal with her other problem: namely, get somepony else to come up with a better idea. Zecora was intelligent, impartial, and most importantly, available at the moment—surely she’d know some piece of ancient zebra wisdom she could use. “Uh, say, Zecora? I was wondering if you could help me out a bit...” Zecora’s facial expression didn’t change as Rainbow Dash explained how her misadventures in matchmaking were now threatening to crush whatever romance might have been budding between Fluttershy and Pencil Pusher. “I shall gladly assist as my experience permits,” she said evenly, “but why would you ask for such help from a hermit?” “Well, of course that’d be a bad idea,” Rainbow Dash said. “Since when do crabs understand anything about matchmaking?” Zecora rolled her eyes and explained herself further. “A solitary life offers little romance, so to take my advice would mean taking a chance.” “Oh,” Rainbow said as her ears drooped in disappointment. “Still, I’m willing to listen to any idea you might have, because right now, I’ve got nothing.” Zecora shifted her weight awkwardly as a few scattered ideas formed in her mind. Finally, she hesitantly replied, “You... er... could try flirting with a different pony, though Fluttershy might suspect that act is phony.” The zebra’s uneasy expression, combined with the fact that she’d interrupted her meter with a noncommittal syllable, gave the impression that she would not take offense if Rainbow Dash rejected this suggestion outright. Rainbow Dash, however, wasn’t in any position to simply reject an idea just because it was blatantly unfeasible. “Well, it’s certainly better than anything I’ve come up with. Might as well give it a shot. Thanks, Zecora.” “You should not thank me quite so quickly. That advice could make things more prickly.” “Uh, right.” Rainbow Dash didn’t mean to sound flippant, but Zecora’s advice really was better than anything she’d thought of on her own. “Say, you want to come into town for the day? I mean, I don’t think anypony wants you stuck in the Everfree Forest if the plan doesn’t work the way Fluttershy expects.” The zebra seemed to consider this for a few moments, but eventually she shook her head. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m afraid I must decline. I’ve several potions brewing that are sensitive to time. Besides, my hut is very warm, with superb insulation, and I can get to town with my own means of navigation. No, I think it would best for me to stay safely inside, but I will cheer you on until your troubles all subside.” September 2 – 8:42 AM Sadly, the Crusaders’ heroic efforts to find a false bottom in their spy kit’s case left them with little more than a completely ruined steel briefcase. It seemed that “making something up” really was going to be their best option for getting away from the party, which of course meant that there was a chance that they wouldn’t find any means of escaping from the subterranean carnival of joy and delight that Pinkie Pie had in store for them. Thus, the three of them determined that their remaining hours were best spent checking, double-checking, and re-double-checking all of the moving parts of their trap, in case they couldn’t make it out to keep a close watch on the proceedings themselves. In particular, Scootaloo was placed in charge of taking care of the most motion-prone part of the trap. After all, she was the one who’d negotiated his contract in the first place. “Okay, Mr. Shnookums,” she said as she gently placed the hamster inside the specially modified hamster wheel. “We’ve held up our end of the bargain. You’ve had food, pampering, and we’ve even gotten a space heater for you to use when the fog rolls in.” That last part had been a real stroke of luck—Sweetie Belle had discovered it lying on Fluttershy’s coffee table when the trio had first gone to her cottage to “borrow” the hamster, and somehow Scootaloo doubted that they could have found a miniature space heater in any other way. “Now, it’s your turn.” Mr. Shnookums responded with a series of flippant squeaks. Even though Scootaloo didn’t speak hamster, she still thought his tone of voice was unprofessionally overconfident. “I’m serious, Shnookums,” she said, glowering somewhat at the small rodent. “If you don’t do your part, the whole shebang is for nothing.” Truth be told, Scootaloo wasn’t quite sure what a “shebang” actually was (mostly because Ms. Cheerilee didn’t seem all that interested in teaching them cool vocabulary words), but all the work she and her friends had put into it over the past two days certainly made it feel “shebangy.” This time Mr. Shnookums’ reply was a bit more hesitant. Scootaloo decided that a little bit of intimidation couldn’t hurt. “Remember, we have a contract. We’ve done our part, so if you don’t do yours, not even Angel Bunny will be able to protect you from... the consequences.” Scootaloo leaned forward and glared directly into Mr. Shnookums’ tiny eyes when she mentioned “the consequences.” That was one vocabulary word she did know, mostly because her parents liked using it all the time while scolding her. They included such not-fun things a being grounded and extra chores, and on one particularly memorable instance, having her mouth washed out with soap by her great-aunt Crochet. Granted, Scootaloo wasn’t sure if any of those consequences was appropriate for a hamster who’d breached his contract, but surely there was something unpleasant she and her friends would be allowed to do, and with any luck, Mr. Shnookums had some vague idea of what that could be. Apparently, he did, as the hamster simply nodded nervously. “Great!” Scootaloo said in an oddly chipper tone. “We’ll see you later, then.” September 2 – 8:58 AM Pencil Pusher stared out the windows as the train’s wheel ground to a halt with a high-pitched squeal and felt a mild pang of regret that the ninety-minute journey had ended so quickly. Every other time he’d taken a journey by rail, there had always been noticeable jostling as the train swayed back and forth over the tracks, but this had felt more like hovering than rolling over train tracks. The car itself was decked out in every shade of green he’d ever seen, and his “seat” was more like a massive, velvet cushion than a chair. Plus, the staff was extremely polite and well-mannered, checking in every ten minutes or so to see if there was anything he desired, but Pencil Pusher felt that the string quartet playing chamber music in one corner of the car was more than enough for his purposes, although he wasn’t about to turn down a complimentary glass of sparkling rose water. Indeed, it was so relaxing that Pencil Pusher found himself wondering why the princesses even bothered with their chariots. Still, all good things had to come to an end, especially when there were even better things on the horizon, such as talking to Fluttershy again. It was at this point, as he was walking towards the train car’s door, that a somewhat troubling thought occurred to him: he didn’t have anything to talk to her about. For the first time, he didn’t actually have any official business from Cloudsdale to report to her. Even though his news hadn’t always been particularly good, the fact that Fluttershy needed to hear what he had to say had been a fairly reliable pretext for talking to her. By the time he had stepped onto the wooden planks of the station’s platform, Pencil Pusher’s face displayed genuine concern. Obviously, he needed to talk to Fluttershy, but for the first time, she didn’t need to talk to him. In fact, given that she was probably going to be extremely occupied throughout the day, it seemed vital that any conversations between the two of them have some sort of clear, relevant point, at least until the fog problem had been handled. “But how do I bring up any sort of topic without it coming off as awkward?” Pencil Pusher said aloud. “Well, for starters, you can try not talking to yourself in public,” a nearby stallion replied sarcastically. It was only when Pencil Pusher turned to find the source of the anonymous voice that he noticed that the Ponyville train station was actually rather crowded, no doubt due to the number of ponies who had decided that the fog presented an ideal reason to go on vacation. Feeling a bit chagrined, he mumbled a quick apology to those ponies who were staring at him and made his way out of the station and into town.