At 5:28 in the afternoon Ponyville time, tuesday evening, a vengeful olympian god released the apocalyptic flood upon Equestria as foretold in the seventh segment of the Doom Nikveh. But a couple minutes later Twilight Sparkle told him to cut that crap out, so instead the earth was subjected to a storm that rated at the mostly inconvenient.
At the sound of her door being opened and shut, Twilight Sparkle looked up from her book.
“I don’t remember inviting you in Applejack. That goes double for you Rarity.”
Rarity used her magic to wring the rain out of her mane. “Twilight I really cannot guess what I have done to earn this antipathy from you.”
“Your consciousness is too tedious. You’re the only one who can resist my amazing mind powers of persuasion.” Twilight said, seemingly accepting the home invasion. “I like ponies like Applejack here because they're so easily manipulated.”
“You pay tha most backhanded compliments of anypony ah ever met.” Applejack grumbled as she drip dried in the foyer.
“Surely you're joking with me.” Rarity arched an eyebrow.
“Jokes are funny.” Twilight said. “My fib was purely malicious. Now, what are you doing in my temple?”
Rarity facehooved, both hooves. “Temple? Twilight you can’t turn the town library into your temple. As far as I know nopony even worships you.”
“They don’t realize it, but every book in Equestria is imbued with my will. Reading is equivalent to worship.” Twilight smugly replied.
“What an amazing contrivance all for the sake of a single smug comeback. Thanks for ruining reading for me.”
“Ta answer y’all’s question princess, we’re fleein from that storm out there.” Applejack pointed out the window. “It’s pretty crazy. hell ‘an high water.”
“Hell? High water?” Twilight frowned. “I EXPLICITLY told the appocolyse god NO HELL, and NO HIGH WATER. Next time I see him I’m gunna slap his shiz.”
“Well I, uh.” Applejack felt that feeling of guilt that goes along with getting an entity in trouble with Twilight Sparkle. “There ain’t no need to do that on my account.”
“I think you shouldn’t either.” Rarity said to Twilight, but winked at Applejack. “Ooh, and you definitely not tell this god that it was Applejack who ratted him out.”
Twilight was unamused. “I’ll tell him was Rarity then. Now, both of you blasphemers can leave.”
“Twilight is there a way to be in ‘your temple’ without bein a blasphemer?” Applejack asked. “Cause I’m a might hesitant to face that storm out there.”
“Sure.” Twilight said. “Kiss my hooves.”
Applejack recoiled. “What?”
Twilight rolled her eyes. “I’m kidding. Honestly, do you think I’m so insecure that I need constant displays of submission to keep my ego fueled.”
“Well…” Rarity trailed off.
“Rarity, I hate you, get the hell out.” Twilight barked. “Applejack can stay if she commits to a full night.”
“Full night a what?” Applejack asked.
“Just a full night.” Twilight explained. “You know, if the storm dies off, you’ll still stay until sunrise.”
Applejack and Rarity shared a glance. “Just sleepin?”
“Maybe dinner too. And you know maybe if Rarity doesn’t let her perviness through I’ll let her stay as well.” Twilight nodded.
“I'm never going to hear the end of this...” Rarity muttered as she and Applejack moved into the library proper.
~
“It’s too bad Spike is out of town.” Twilight was saying as she led her guests into the kitchen. “He would have loved the company. Sometimes I think that only having me for company is a detriment to his emotional development.”
“Yeah, I get that impression as well.” Applejack accepted an apple and began snacking on it. “I think you should push him outside a little more often.”
“Where did you say he was again?” Rarity helped herself to a bowl of dry cereal.
“He got crucified again.” Twilight said. “It’ll be two or three days before he gets back.”
“Don’tchya hate when that happens.” Applejack glowered.
“Very inopportune.” Rarity agreed.
“Yeah well I’ve got worse problems on my hooves.” Twilight joined the two mortals at the table. “Apparently somepony told Celestia about Gilda.”
“Why is that bad for you, exactly?” Rarity asked.
“Because she’ll ruin the experiment.” Twilight complained. “When I made Gilda immortal I replaced most of her higher brain function with the neurological equivalent of spaghetti code. I wanted to see how long before she exploded.”
Applejack took a very slow bite of her apple. Rarity stared into her cereal. “That’s… That’s horrible!”
“What? I hope you didn’t think I did it from the goodness of my heart. Honestly most of my life is a string of compulsive behaviors linked by depressingly lucid rumination. But I mean can you blame me about Gilda?” Twilight crossed her hooves defensively. “For science to advance, somepony’s brain has got to be replaced with spaghetti! Would you be happier if it were you?”
“No.” Rarity conceded.
“I’m suddenly hungry for spaghetti.” Applejack said.
“Point is, Celestia never likes my experiments, and will probably put a premature end to Gilda or something.” Twilight continued. “It’s mostly because I apply anything I learn to make her life as miserable as possible. Like the invisible parasprites.”
“Parasprites?” Rarity asked.
“Nasty blighters, the parasprites.” Twilight nodded. “Remind me to show you some time.”
~
“Princess Twilight, don’t ya think two ponies could be spared a slightly larger bed?”
Twilight grumpily propped herself up from her restful position on her own bed. “That’s the only other one I have! Would you rather have Spike’s freakin basket?”
“I was just thinkin you could conjure one or… Uhh, sorry I asked.” Applejack sighed, and did her best not to touch Rarity under the sheets beside her. “You know, ya don’t have to come back at every question y’all’r asked with a scathing rhetorical proposition. Get’s repetitive.”
“Would you like it if I responded with smiles instead?” Twilight twisted her head and smiled exaggeratedly before lapsing once again into a deep scowl.
“You’re doin again.” Applejack said. “Know what, never mind. Good night.”
“Yeah yeah, good night.” Twilight readjusted her covers. “Don’t let the bed bug bite. Seriously, they’re nasty.It's a national epidemic.”
The patter of rain carried the two to a restful slumber, and nothing dramatic happened at all for the rest of the sleepover.
That’s when the spatulas attacked.