It was a Wednesday, the middle of the week, and Soarin the Wonderbolt's least favorite day. For on that day came the harmonic convergence between remaining mana and time, in which his energy was half spent but the week was only half done. Of course, it would be on a Wednesday that somepony did a lousy job of clearing the sky track. Consequentially, as Soarin was doing his relaxing sky laps, a small cloud smacked into his face, like a frosty clump of spun sugar.
He snarled discontentedly as he spat out little pieces of cloud. The moment was ruined - stopping momentarily had caused him to lose his breath. That was enough sky laps, he needed something else to do. There was no basic training today, so the dizzitron would be free. That always helped him unwind.
"Sir!" The pegasus attending the machine stood at attention and saluted.
"Private, put it on max speed!"
"Sir, yes sir!" He helped Soarin into the machine and threw the lever. The world around Soarin began spinning like a blender, and then came the jolt as the machine threw him high into the sky. It always amused Soarin to see the new recruits preparing themselves for this exercise by doing barrel rolls until they were so dizzy they dropped right out of the sky. They never thought to prepare for the jolt. Sorain though, had had plenty of practice, both on the machine, and in the shows when a stunt went awry. He righted himself and landed gracefully on the runway.
"Soarin, that's an academy record!" exclaimed Spitfire, who had been watching below.
Sorain's eyes went wide, "Really?"
"Yeah, that's the slowest time you've ever clocked! Bahahaha!"
Soarin rolled his eyes, "Yeah, hilarious. If this Wonderbolt thing doesn't work out, you could really make it as a comedian."
"Ah lighten up," she slapped him in the back, "I was just having a little fun wi- what the?"
Soarin had grabbed her wrist. He looked at her watch, "oh, look at that, it's lunchtime." Before the confused Spitfire could get a word in, Soarin flew away, feeling a little better.
When he got to the mess hall, he was almost knocked off his feet. A wonderful smell wafted through his nostrils, filling him with glee, and hope for a better day ahead. For the first time in his many years in the Wonderbolts, the cafeteria was serving apple pie on a Wednesday. Ignoring the entree stations, he headed straight for the dessert tray, which was a wise decision, because there was only one slice left. He slipped it onto his tray, and scanned the room for an open seat. His friend and fellow admiral Fleetfoot waved at him from one of the tables in the back. He waved back, and gleefully trotted over to her. But in his haste, he lapsed in his vigilance, and forgot to keep an awareness of his surroundings. Thunderlane was walking perpendicular to him, and at that very moment, their paths converged. They collided, and their trays went flying in a parabolic arc.
"BWAH!" cried Rainbow Dash.
"What? What's wrong?" said a startled Fluttershy
"I don't know, I just felt like there was somewhere I should've been."
In devastatingly slow motion, the trays turned upside down and slammed into the floor. Soarin was powerless but to watch as the flaky crust shattered to crumbs, the perfect handpicked hand peeled apples slid in all directions, and the artistically-beautiful dollop of whipped cream was crushed into a puddle beneath the weight of the plate. Soarin began to feel a burning in his heart, coursing through his veins and searing every muscle in his body. He turned towards Thunderlane, slowly. The terrified cadet tried to look away, but Soarin grabbed him by his chin and forced him to look.
"Private Zerbraface, do you like flying into lampposts?"
"S-s-sir no sir!"
"Then why in Tartarus, would you be flying with your eyes closed?!"
"Sir, I'm really sorry sir!"
"Celestia's flank, you're sorry! Clean up this mess, right now!" He stormed back to the dessert counter. "I need another apple pie."
The cook looked at him like he was staring into the jaws of a manticore. "Th-there's none left...sir."
"Then bake another one!"
"Sir..." now he looked like he was staring into the jaws of the hydra, "we're out of pie crusts, and cinnamon....and apples."
Sorain grabbed him by the scruff of his whites and pulled him in so close that the cook could feel Soarin's hot breath on his muzzle. "Listen here, buddy. I don't care if you have to invent the universe, make me an apple pie!!!"
Fleetfoot pulled Soarin into a corner. "Soarin, don't you think you're overreacting a little?"
"That referee-reject Thunderlane has no respect for me or my possessions!"
Fleetfoot placed a hoof on his shoulder, "Soarin, it's just a dessert. You have to let it go."
Soarin's mouth curved up into a smile. Before Fleetfoot could react, he plucked up Thunderlane. He flew them through the skylight and out into the open air. They flew away from the academy, ascending higher and higher while moving towards the edge of the cloud.
"What are you doing, sir?" cried Thunderlane.
"Fleetfoot said I had to let go, so that's what I'm gonna do." Now hovering over the precipice of the cloud, he released his grip.
"Goodbye cruel woooooorld!" cried Thunderlane as he plummeted down through the cloudless patch of sky, towards the hard Ponyville ground below. Exhausted, Soarin dropped down, and sat on the edge of the cloud, breathing heavily.
"This seat taken?" Fleetfoot was standing behind him, looking sympathetic.
"Suit yourself."
Fleetfoot sat down next to him. "Tell me what the matter is."
"I don't ask for much Fleet, just a competent battalion and a slice of apple pie. Today, I found out they're both too much to ask for."
"Soarin, let me tell you something I learned not too long ago. When bad things happen, you start to think that everypony's out to get you. And most of the time, they are. But you can't throw ponies off of cliffs, it's just not right. I made a decision to forgive a dastardly dentist and his devious daughter, and now it's your turn."
Soarin took a deep breath, then gave a heavy sigh, "I guess you're right. I can't blame Celestia for her shoddy workmanship when she invented the days of the week."
"Now you're getting it!"
"And I suppose I can't blame Thunderlane for being an uncoordinated dimwit."
"Wonderful!" exclaimed Fleetfoot, "oh, that reminds me..." she peered over the edge and shouted , "hey, Thunderlane! You're a Pegasus, remember?"
"Oh, right." he yelled back. He flapped his wings, and his descent began to slow until he landed gently on the ground.
Soarin gave Fleetfoot a smile, and put his arm around her, "thank you Fleetfoot. You always know just what to say."
"Hey, don't mention it. Y'know, maybe it was for the best that this happened. After all, too many sweets are bad for your teeth."