Slydesdale, Cloudsdale's premier water slide park:
Slydesdale was operating on summer hours and the park was crowded with happy pegasus ponies. Captain Bucephalus had spent most of the last hour standing in line at the park's most popular attraction, the Sonic Rainflume! ride, waiting for an opportunity to speak to the ride operator, who Bucephalus naturally assumed would be the most fun person in the park.
It was challenging for him to maintain his proper guard demeanor among the raucous throng of ponies, but Captain Bucephalus took advantage of the opportunity to reassure the gathered citizens that yes, there really is a Lunar Guard, that no, his silver armor was in no sense "gnarly, dude," and that yes, indeed, Princess Luna was most assuredly replete with "awesome sauce."
His interview with the ride operator, an elderly and sour-looking pegasus, proved disappointing.
“Please remain seated while the ride is in motion,” the operator recited in a weary monotone. “Please secure all loose items in a pocket or bag. Please keep all legs and wings inside the ride at all times.”
The ride operator threw a large lever that launched the next log into the flume. The moment the log started moving, all of the passengers immediately stood and held their forelegs and wings outside the car.
“Darn foal kids,” muttered the operator.
It appeared to Bucephalus that, not only was the ride operator not having fun, but through long exposure to lines of countless fun-seekers, he had developed a complete immunity to the idea of fun.
The ride operator had little time or help to offer Captain Bucephalus. Captain Bucephalus thanked him for his assistance anyway, and inquired as to the location of the exit.
“Only two ways down from here, sonny,” said the ride operator. “Down the flume,” he waved towards the log ride, “or down the Walk of Shame.”
Off to one side was a doorway boldly labeled THE WALK OF SHAME. “Abandon all pride, ye who exit here! Don’t worry! It’s safe! Looooooser!” proclaimed a banner over the door.
“Can’t I just fly down?” asked Bucephalus.
“Nope. Safety regulations, sonny,” said the operator. “The log or the slog, that’s it.”
Captain Bucephalus drew himself up. Of course, no member of the Lunar Guard could be seen taking such an undignified and disgraceful exit as THE WALK OF SHAME. Bucephalus would just have to take the next log ride down. It would be the quickest way, after all. He marched over and took a seat in the front of the next log.
Really, how bad could it be?
Ten minutes later Captain Bucephalus was struggling to stop his eyes from spinning in opposite directions. He was soaking wet. His helmet had been lost somewhere between “The Tornado of Terror” and a freefall drop into darkness ominously called “The Throat.” The screaming of his fellow log passengers had unnerved him; his own screams, even more so. Climbing out of the log ride, he found his legs wandering in unexpected directions.
And yet, he couldn’t stop grinning.
That was fun! he thought. Bucephalus looked up at the top of the Sonic Rainflume! and wondered if he had time enough to go again.
Duty! Duty! he chided himself. The Princess’s welfare is my primary responsibility. The Princess before all!
Bucephalus hadn’t found a clue to the Princess’s expert, but he thought had a clue of a different sort. Perhaps fun involves a degree of risk, even if the risk was nothing more than trying something new, something out of one’s usual experience.
Bucephalus shook himself out and flew towards Slydesdale’s exit, deep in thought.
Where would Princess Luna go to experience risk?