//------------------------------// // Vice Principals, Virtual Portals // Story: Equestria Girls: The Looking Glass World of Cheese and Pie // by scoots2 //------------------------------// The lines outside Vice Principal Luna’s office were always long on Tuesdays. Tuesday is the day when Monday’s chickens come home to roost. Every tardiness, unexcused absence, and cut class accrued on Monday must be dealt with on Tuesday. Imaginative excuses must be listened to with varying degrees of patience. Detentions must be assigned and notes sent home to parents. Vice Principal Luna faced this every Tuesday morning, and always rose to the occasion, especially considering that she was not a morning person. This morning’s quota included students who had been caught committing the usual disciplinary infractions, plus one or two slightly more complicated cases. Those would have to wait until after the simple ones. And that is how Cheese Sandwich and Rainbow Dash found themselves standing next to each other early on Tuesday morning, a situation that only became more awkward as the line in front of them shortened and the silence between them reached deafening levels. Finally, when the last student in front of them had disappeared into Vice Principal Luna’s office, Rainbow Dash coughed and spoke first. “So, uh . . . Fluttershy called me last night. She said she’d talked to you and you both went to see Pinkie.” Cheese didn’t say anything, but simply raised his eyebrows. She continued, “And she said a lot of things about kicking somebody when he’s down and if I thought you’d just let Pinkie get hurt without trying to do something about it, I was crazy. She was sort of steamed. So, um . . . I was wrong about that.” Cheese shook his head. “I still can’t believe you’d think that about me.” Rainbow Dash shrugged. “I couldn’t believe Pinkie got hurt. And I thought someone should have done something to stop it. I would have, if I’d been there. But that’s just it—I should have been there, and I wasn’t. So it’s my fault, really. Sometimes I really suck as a friend.” “I don’t think you’ve been that bad a friend to Pinkie,” said Cheese, staring up at the ceiling and avoiding Dash’s eye. “Not Pinkie’s friend!” Rainbow Dash snorted. “Yours, doofus! I said you count with me, didn’t I?” Cheese turned his head towards her and blinked. “I don’t remember that.” “No, because you were staring at that stupid rubber chicken or something!” Dash said, backing up and looking Cheese in the eye. Her cheeks were twitching. She’d slipped one hand into the pocket of her tracksuit jacket, and she grabbed the fabric in her fist and twisted the fist around as she spoke. “I don’t say a lot of mushy friendship stuff, Cheese, so if you missed it, you missed it. And I just admitted I was wrong about something, which never happens, either, so don’t blame me if you don’t know ‘I’m sorry’ when you hear it.” Vice Principal Luna opened her door. “Miss Dash? Come in.” Rainbow Dash picked up her backpack. As she straightened up again, she shook herself and slipped back into her ordinary casual stance. “So, yeah. What I said. ‘K?” And she slipped into Vice Principal Luna’s office without further comment. Cheese stood in the hall in silence for some time, absently-mindedly twiddling the fingers on his right hand, practicing arpeggios. He unconsciously rolled his left shoulder inward, as though he were manipulating a bellows. Vice Principal Luna opened the door and Rainbow Dash strolled out, head thrown back, almost swaggering. As Cheese followed the vice principal into her office, she raised her hand as though she were waving or trying to catch Cheese’s attention, but quickly turned this gesture into ruffling her hair, turned her back, and strolled slowly away. ~~ “I’ve had a chance to review your situation with my sister, Mr. Sandwich. Sit.” Cheese sat in the one small chair in the vice principal’s office. Since it was intentionally somewhat short, he was forced to fold himself up and sit with his knees sticking up. It also failed in its purpose, which was to lower the visitor’s head below Vice Principal Luna’s. Two file folders sat on her desk: one small one, and the large phone book sized one that contained all of Cheese’s records. The blinds were, as usual, drawn. The office looked much as it had before, except that all the trophies had been recently burnished. The vase of lilies still sat beneath the picture of the full moon, but one of the flowers emitted a jet of water. The moon briefly displayed an advertising logo reading “Taste The Moon!” It disappeared when the vice principal turned her head sharply and glared at it. She picked up the smaller of the two files and opened it. From it issued the sound of a long and disrespectful raspberry. Her eyebrows contracted for a moment, but she gave no other sign that she had noticed. “After consulting with the school psychologist and referring the medical details to the psychiatrist employed by the school district, we determined that this is not a case for psychiatric intervention. As I suggested in our earlier discussion, this is a disciplinary issue, not a medical one.” It was almost impossible to relax in Cheese’s current posture, but he managed it anyway. She turned a few pages and continued, “We have also reviewed the matters concerning trespassing, damage to school property, and actions resulting in the injury of a fellow student. Miss Applejack took some pictures at the accident scene, forwarded to me by Miss Fluttershy, and her eyewitness testimony suggests that you were not responsible for the accident. I’ve sent the pictures to the inspectors investigating the incident. As you can imagine, we’re very concerned about the structural damage to the building, which is why the gym has been put off limits until it’s been declared safe.” “Miss Fluttershy’s vehement insistence on acting as a character witness and Miss Dash’s somewhat exaggerated self accusations would not in themselves clear you of suspicion. The surveillance camera footage, however, does. It’s an ongoing investigation, so I’m sure you understand why I can’t discuss it further. You have some very loyal friends.” Cheese blinked, but said nothing. The vice principal continued, “There remains the matter of trespassing after school hours. That is very serious, but I’m willing to consider the week you spent in on-site suspension as sufficient punishment. A longer suspension would require asking the superintendent’s order. We do not intend to seek that. Your suspension is lifted.” She closed the small folder, drew Cheese’s file closer, and opened it. “As my sister and I discussed the appropriate measures to take in your case, we took the opportunity to review your file in some detail. And I have many questions for you.” Cheese gulped and said, “ok.” The vice principal removed some transcripts. “Your grade point averages are appalling.” She held up a transcript. “You managed to flunk algebra not once, but twice. Somehow, during your freshman year, you managed to miss so many school days that it added up to a month. Not sick days, not excused absences, and not hospitalizations—you simply disappeared. How you managed this at boarding school, I have no idea.” She dropped the first transcript and picked up a second. “Your math teacher at another school asked you to “do something constructive in class for a change,” and you spent it ignoring him while you read an elaborately illustrated book about escapology.” “Well,” Cheese said, shrugging and giving her a weak grin, “it was constructive, wasn’t it? It was research about something I needed to know, so . . .” His voice trailed off as Vice Principal Luna fixed him with a glare. “Your transcripts, in short, indicate serious academic defects. Your test scores, on the other hand,” she said, holding up another document, “beg to differ. Can you explain this?” “Gum,” Cheese said. The vice principal raised her eyebrows in surprise. “When I was a kid, the teachers rewarded us with bubblegum when we took standardized tests. I like bubblegum, so when other students are getting test anxiety, I just think of bubblegum.” “Hm,” she said. “That would account for some of the discrepancy, but not very much of it. And here’s another odd thing. Your friends tell me that you’re musically gifted. I corroborated this with a number of students and faculty members. Even your homeroom teacher, Mr. Doodle, conceded that you played the harmonica very nicely before he begged you to stop. And as they volunteered information, a certain picture emerged, indicating that you were humorous, entertaining, and very good at organizing social events, even though there’s no official record of you participating in any of these activities and even though they’ve been forbidden to you. I looked through your previous school records under extracurricular activities, and nothing like this was recorded. I finally found it in your hospital records. The staff at Baldwin Memorial recorded some of your activity in these areas as positive accomplishments. I thought I must have overlooked something, and I found notes about these abilities at every institution you’re attended—under discipline. And these are the very activities we have been particularly asked to prevent you from engaging in. What, as the slang phrase will have it, is up with that?” Cheese writhed in his chair and shifted his gaze from side to side before replying, “I don’t know.” “Well, I would like to know,” the vice principal snorted, so violently that the puff of air was almost visible. “I don’t care for it when MY students—that is, the students of CHS,” she corrected herself quickly, “are prohibited from exercising their special talents. I don’t care for it at all.” She leaned forward across the desk, gazing at him through narrowed eyes. “From this point on,” she said, “I expect you to participate fully in the life of the school. Your engagement with the community will be up to your aunt to decide, but I think a friendly but persuasive chat with her may be in order. Of course, newly written instructions from your mother would have to be taken into account.” “Oh, but . . . my parents are somewhere out near Saddle Arabia,” Cheese blurted. “It would take a few weeks to get a letter from there.” “Would it,” the vice principal said blandly. It wasn’t a question. “In the meantime, you are to consider yourself permitted to put your abilities to good use, regardless of any commitments to the contrary. You follow me?” Cheese smiled slowly. “I think so.” “In return,” she went on, “all of this nonsense will cease.” She waved at the moon picture, the lilies, and the file folders. Cheese had his gaze firmly fixed on the ceiling. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She sighed and rose from her seat. “That will be all. You are dismissed.” Cheese got up, and she handed him a hall pass. When he was halfway to the door, she said, “Mr. Sandwich, you are a chronic and incorrigible underachiever.” Cheese hung his head. “I know.” “That is why it is counterproductive to suspend your involvement in extracurricular activities.” Her mouth quirked. “Heaven help us if you were to become really bored.” ~~ Cheese stood outside the office for a moment, blinking and shaking his head, and then he took a deep breath. Throughout the school, and without his knowledge, dozens of untold jokes and unplayed pranks deactivated themselves. Quiet settled on CHS. He took another deep breath, began to walk down the hall—and was almost immediately tackled by Rainbow Dash. “So guess who’s Captain of the Wondercolts again?” Dash exulted, throwing back her shoulders as Cheese tried to recover the wind she’d knocked out of him. “THE one and only. I don’t have the keys back, but meh—I was always worried about them all the time anyway. Soarin won the match, which I never would have thought he’d do, and that keeps us in the playoffs. Vice Principal Luna said she thought I’d learned my lesson now about how everyone is replaceable, so I could play again and even be Captain again, which is so awesome. And then she told me to kill ‘em in that final match, and I totally will. How’d it go in there?” “Not too bad,” he said. “Actually kind of good. I’m unsuspended, and it sounds as though maybe she’s going to bat for me. Of course, that’s only until my mother puts a stop to it, but still.” They began to walk down the hall in the direction of the gym, Rainbow Dash making little boxing jabs as she jogged along. “She even said something—well, I think I can play in public again. I promised my mother not to, but she sort of undid it somehow.” He scrubbed his hand through his hair. “That doesn’t make any sense, does it? How does she even know about something like that?” Rainbow Dash shrugged. “I dunno, but somehow she knows. It’s like she can see inside your head.” She stopped and looked at him. “So, uh, everything’s kind of back to normal, so . . . are we cool?” she said, making a few more tentative jabs in his direction. “Because I hope we’re cool.” “Hmm,” Cheese replied, chewing on the side of his lip and looking up at the ceiling. “What if I made a joke and you laughed, and you thought we were cool, only really we weren’t, and I didn’t talk to you anymore and avoided you as much as possible?” “Pinkie would stage a tickle intervention,” Rainbow Dash responded promptly. “Believe me, you don’t want to be on the business end of one of those. My ribs hurt for hours, just because AJ had to be so stubborn. Besides, you wouldn’t do something like that. Would you?” “Actually, it’s exactly the kind of thing I would do,” he admitted. “I’ve done stuff like that before. But you did try to break me out yesterday, and you sort of apologized just now, so I guess we’re cool.” “Good,” said Dash, resuming their walk to class, “ because Fluttershy likes you, and of course I’m her BFF, and she’d be sad about it and she might even cry. We all hate it when Fluttershy cries. I can’t take it at all. It’s the worst. Drives me up the wall.” “Drove me right through one,” agreed Cheese, adding, “long story. Never mind,” at Dash’s puzzled look. “Yeah, Applejack and Fluttershy and Rarity and Pinkie and me—we’ve been besties since the Freshman Fair. If you’re friends with one of us, you’re friends with all of us. And no one messes with my friends. If you’re cool with me, then yeah, you count.” “So what do you do when one of your friends messes with one of your other friends?” Dash sighed. “See, this is where it gets complicated, and I’m not too good with that. All I heard was ‘Pinkie’s hurt,’ and I thought, ‘What? Stuff like that doesn’t happen to Pinkie.’ I don’t think anyone even notices the way she pops straight down from the ceiling or bounces off the walls anymore, but I do. It felt wrong. It smelled wrong. Applejack said it was an accident, or maybe Pinkie messed up, but I’m not buying it. Anyway, the idea of Pinkie getting hurt and being taken away to the hospital . . .” She grabbed his arm. “Do you understand what I’m talking about? I just saw red.” They exchanged a long, silent look, and finally he nodded. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “I think I do. You know, I don’t think I was even really mad about it until just now.” “And I couldn’t understand why she got hurt and you didn’t because . . .” she scowled as she tried to put her thoughts together. Then her eyes widened and her mouth popped open. “Because you do all that stuff too. You’re just like Pinkie.” “Well,” Cheese said, “not exactly like Pinkie.” “Wow,” said Rainbow Dash, shaking her head, “this is weird. Anyhow, me and the rest of the girls—we’re a package deal. The last time we let something split us apart and quit talking to each other, a she-demon tried to take over the universe and everyone in the school was turned into killer zombies. Except for us, of course.” “See,” Cheese pointed out, “some people might call that weird. Not me, but a lot of people would.” “I want to talk about this at lunch,” Dash decided. “I want to put all of the weird right out on the table. And besides, when I was talking to Fluttershy last night, she told me a bunch of things about you, and I want to know about those, too.” Cheese froze. “What things?” he asked. “The bit about my being a lunatic, or the bit about my being a side-show freak, or—” Dash guffawed. “You sound like Rarity!” she wheezed. “CHS can only handle one drama queen at a time, and she’s got that job covered. Besides,” she added, sobering up, “you’re describing one of my best friends. A couple of ‘em, in fact. No, dorkasaurus,” she continued, as they resumed their walk, “she was telling me about the sweet save you made off that ladder! Totally something I would have done.” As they reached the end of the hall and rounded the corner, she added, “ I would have done it faster and better, but still, that was pretty good.” ~~ “So,” Rainbow Dash announced, plopping down in her chair at lunch, “big news, ladies, I’m back on the soccer team. Soarin?” she yelled across the cafeteria. Five tables away, the blue-haired goalie straightened up. “I own you again, got me? Practice, this afternoon, small field.” “Oh, good,” said Applejack. “So, life as we know it can go on.” “Yep,” Dash agreed, stretching her arms above her head. “And look who I brought with me.” Cheese popped from behind a pillar, carrying a tray, which was, as usual, heaped high with food. He slid into his usual seat next to Rainbow Dash. “Now all we need is Pinkie,” said Fluttershy. “I’m so glad to see both of you.” “Uh—good to see you’re looking well, Cheese,” said Applejack. “Yes, welcome,” agreed Rarity. Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “Wow. Just tone down your enthusiasm, ok? Look—there’s a lot of stuff I wanted to know from Cheese and I did it the super-hard way. I just asked him. Duh. And I mentioned our she-demon and killer zombies from last fall.” “Do you think that was wise?” gasped Rarity. “Yeah,” replied Dash. “I do.” She put her feet up on the table, to Rarity’s evident dismay, picked up an apple, and crunched into it. “I think Rainbow’s very smart,” agreed Fluttershy, and Dash beamed. “There are all kinds of very strange things going on . . .” “Especially Pinkie’s accident. And it could get worse,” Rainbow Dash pointed out. Cheese swallowed what he was eating. “Vice Principal Luna told me there’s an investigation into the gym incident.” “All of us know a little bit,” pleaded Fluttershy, “but if we share what we know—I just think maybe everything is all connected. And even if it isn’t, isn’t everything always better when we trust each other and work together? Maybe it’s time for us to trust Cheese and for him to trust us.” “Um,” said Cheese. “Um—well, there’s some things . . . they’re sort of personal. Do we have to get into those?” “You mean comparing body tattoos? ‘Cause I’ve got a totally radical lightning bolt right over here,” said Dash, indicating a bit of herself not currently on view. Milk came out of Cheese’s nose, and Fluttershy giggled. “Beat that, Accordion Boy. No, you guys know what I’m talking about. I’m talking about weird stuff.” Applejack sighed. “Well, all right,” she said. “Truth to tell, I felt pretty uncomfortable having to hang on to a bunch of secrets. But y’know, this story isn’t all ours to tell, and I’m not sure I could, so . . . ” “The library? Seriously?” said Rainbow Dash. “Aw, man.” ~~ “Sunset?” Applejack called. “We got some things to talk to you about.” The library was much more heavily occupied than it generally was, filled with students preparing for finals. “Just looking at them makes me feel guilty,” murmured Fluttershy. There was no response from the upper floor, however. They crossed the library to the stairs. “Sunset?” called Applejack. “Pssst! Demon Queen! You up there?” yelled Rainbow Dash, and every head in the library snapped in her direction. “YES.” Sunset’s voice came from the upper floor, far in the back. “NOT TACTFUL.” “Rainbow Dash!” exclaimed Rarity. “That is not the way to address someone from whom you are hoping to extract a favor!” “Yeah, yeah,” said Dash, rolling her eyes. They walked slowly up the staircase. None of them were accustomed to visiting Sunset in her self-defined study, except for Cheese and, of course, Pinkie. It was hard not to think about the other time on which they’d made this trek, when Pinkie had been present and had offered to throw Sunset a friendship party, and it put the others into a more somber mood than usual. They made their way past the dusty bookshelves to the table where Sunset kept her books and her mirrors. She was apparently hard at work. Many of the books were open. She had some dust smudges on her face, and her reddish hair was so disheveled that it made her head appear to be on fire. She sighed. “Is this another test of our friendship?” She looked at Cheese. “I haven’t seen much of you or the pink one recently.” “Yes, we’re fine, thanks for asking,” Cheese replied. “Hey, Pinkie got discharged from the hospital almost right away and I only spent a week in lockdown, so we really have nothing to complain about.” Sunset paused with her hand halfway raised to turn a page. “I knew that,” she murmured. “No, I did,” she insisted. “But all of this drove it out of my mind. There are some very peculiar things going on.” “And that’s why we require your expertise, darling,” said Rarity, sliding behind Sunset and taking care not to touch anything. “Some very odd things have been happening out here in the real world, too, especially to Pinkie and Cheese, but really to all of us. And we thought that you could . . . ah . . . explain matters to Cheese.” “And why do I want to do that?” “I dunno,” said Applejack, “maybe you might learn something? Or maybe just because it feels good to help other people, and it’s the right thing to do? Now you cut it out trying to be all mysterious about magic like Trixie, when we know you know the real thing.” “I might learn something? About friendship?” Sunset scoffed. “I doubt it. I’m a terrible friendship student. Or magic? Are you seriously suggesting I could learn something . . .” Her eyes lit up, and she suddenly appeared very interested. “Something about magic. Their magic. That, I would very much like to know.” Cheese had been watching this exchange, his eyes darting back and forth with increasing worry. “Well, you’re not going to know diddly-squat unless you help us explain stuff to Cheese,” Applejack retorted, ‘because otherwise he won’t have a clue what you’re talking about.” Sunset sighed. “Very well.” “Y’see, Cheese,” Applejack began awkwardly, scuffing her boot on the ground, “y’see . . .” “Canterlot High is a reflection of an alternative universe populated entirely by magical ponies and you guys are some kind of uber-magical ponies with rainbow powers or something and Pinkie is somehow the most connected to that world and her pony has powers even Saruman here can’t explain and I’ve got a pony too and somehow my pony is connected to her pony or something like that?” Cheese suggested. Everyone stared, jaw dropped. Cheese shrugged. “It was just an educated guess!” Sunset Shimmer blinked. When she’d regained her composure, she went on, “That is very roughly correct: very, very roughly. This world is indeed a reflection of the real wor—of Equestria. Hence the mirrors I study; I’m looking for reflections. Equestria has many reflections; many different universes, of which this is only one, and it has portals to each. In addition, CHS is a sort of vortex. It is dotted all over with portals of various sizes, like a honeycomb, or—or a cheese.” “Swiss or Muenster?” Sunset shot Cheese a glare that clearly said shut up. “Some of these portals are only large enough or permanent enough to permit me to borrow books from the Royal Library in Canterlot.” She shrugged. “I figured, how much more trouble can I get into in the Restricted Section? But they’re all too small or too temporary for me. I need one that can be stable, at least for me.” “Whoa whoa whoa,” said Rainbow Dash. “I thought you were trying to explain and maybe help, not go on some power trip!” “Please don’t go on a power trip, Sunset Shimmer,” murmured Fluttershy. “I’m not,” she said testily. “I’m just explaining. I’m from Equestria, the original universe. I’m supposed to be a unicorn. Actually . . . actually, I am a unicorn. I’ve figured out the philosophical and thaumaturgical aspects,” she added, “but I’m not sure I’ve absorbed the dating ramifications.” “AND she was the she-demon last year, too,” Rainbow Dash pointed out. “Don’t remind me,” replied Sunset Shimmer, covering her eyes with her palm. She explained Equestria’s relationship to CHS in some detail, and went on to describe the events of the Fall Formal. “Ever since the Element of Magic crossed the portal to Equestria twice, and one of the Element Bearers went through the portal and back, magic has been leaking through. The portals are weakening. I don’t know what that means. I do know it could be dangerous. Any questions?” she added. Rainbow Dash was feigning sleep, while Fluttershy looked at Sunset anxiously and Rarity pulled out her compact. “Be careful with that!” snapped Sunset. “Even a small mirror is dangerous.” “Well, then,” sniffed Rarity, “I shall have to use my camera, though it’s not at all the same thing.” “Yes,” said Cheese. “I do have a question. Why me? What possible interest can you have in me or in Pinkie? I mean, Pinkie I understand, because she’s like them, and because she’s Pinkie, but I’m just me.” “Ah,” said Sunset Shimmer. “Pinkie’s original carries a variety of magic I’m very anxious to understand. And you know quite well what I’m talking about. The way she alters the moods of other people, sometimes on a large scale, and attracts them like a magnet. The balloons from nowhere. The confetti. The physical pliability. The reality warping. The sheer insane improbability of . . . ” Cheese’s face went blank. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said. “THAT!” she screamed. “That! Every time I get closer to understanding it, it slips away!” “Uh, Sunset,” Applejack said, “you mind telling us what ‘it’ is?” Sunset snorted. “Who knows?” “Maybe it’s just a sense of humor,” Cheese suggested. “It’s probably some stupid earth pony thing.” She looked around and registered their blank expressions. “That’s folk magic, to you. And no, I don’t know how it works.” “Every reflection of Equestria isn’t exact, you understand,” she continued, pacing back and forth. “That would hardly be possible. Every being on each side of a mirror does not have an exactly corresponding copy. For example,” she said, stopping her pacing and turning to them, “I’m the only Sunset Shimmer I know of. These four,” she indicated Rarity, Fluttershy, Applejack, and Rainbow Dash, “and Pinkie do have corresponding beings, and they are, in your phrase, ‘some kind of uber-magical ponies over there with rainbow powers.’” “In addition to that,” she went on, “Pinkie is very unusual. She has her own distinct type of magic, and she doesn’t quite fit in. It’s why she understands the real Equestria best of any of the five. I suppose the best way to put it is that she belongs equally well everywhere and nowhere. She is more like her many selves throughout the multiverse than each of those selves is to the universe she happens to inhabit. And you—for some reason I cannot explain, you are like her. You’re a reflection of a reflection. And you seem to have her magic, although I can't imagine how you acquired it. When she and you are together, the effects are greatly magnified. In any case,” she concluded, “you’re not special. You’re only special because she is.” “You know,” said Cheese thoughtfully, “I would totally believe that.” “I’ve virtually given up trying to comprehend her type of magic,” Sunset muttered. Cheese nodded. “Good, because explaining the joke just kills it.” “But I’m still interesting in exploring the connections. You see, there must be many alternative universes other than Equestria and this one, each with its own correspondences and each with its own Pinkie. There could be thousands of universes and thousands of Pinkies.” “Thousands of Pinkies!” exclaimed Rarity. “Good heavens!” Sunset turned to Cheese. “If you are like her, and she is more like herself than she is to the worlds her selves inhabit; if the multiverse is filled with reflections of Pinkie and your reflections of those reflections, that forms a connection that transcends worlds. And that means,” her eyes glinted, “that you are portals in and of yourselves.” Applejack stared. “You mean all this time, you’ve been trying to use Pinkie and Cheese as some kind of door?” Sunset pursed her lips. “It sounds so selfish when you put it that way. I’m academically interested in the theory.” “Uh, no,” Rainbow Dash put in, proving she hadn’t been asleep after all, “you said you needed a stable portal. You’d better not be trying to get back into Equestria and cause trouble.” “Darn tootin’,” agreed Applejack, “because magic or no magic, we can fix it so you aren’t going anywhere.” “Um,” said Fluttershy, “don’t you need to fill out some kind of form for human subjects? Any kind of subjects, really, but especially human ones?” “Oh, relax,” huffed Sunset. “You’d think I intended something dreadful, when all I want is to—” Something chirped in Cheese’s back pocket. “Hold that thought,” he said. He took out his phone and looked at the screen. “Pinkie’s seen the doctor . . . and . . . and she’s in great shape! She’s cleared to come back to school! This is awesome!” he said, turning to the rest of them. “She’s . . .” His face went slack for a moment, and he dropped the phone. “She says she’s walking in the door right now.” He raced to the end of the second floor corridor and leaned over the banister. “Hey, guess what, you guys?” he shouted. “She’s back! Pinkie’s back!” He exploded into the air with a blast of party horns and in a burst of confetti, jumping over the banister; he hung there for a moment, and landed straight down on the main floor of the library. “PINKIE!!” yelled all the students who had been hunched over notes or crouching over computer screens. They jumped to their feet, abandoned their studies, and stampeded out the library doors. “That,” said Sunset Shimmer. “That’s the sort of thing I mean.”