//------------------------------// // Chapter 6 - "Are You Ready for the Hot (Summer) Nuts?" // Story: Confeatheracy of Dunces // by BlueBastard //------------------------------// Confeatheracy of Dunces Chapter 6         If there was one aspect of teaching – as in regular teaching, not the loophole exploiting insanity of this whole “therapy” thing Cheerilee had been dragged into – that Cheerilee was still inexperienced in, it was the inevitable confrontation with the parental figure of one of her students. She’d only had the job as Ponyville Elementary’s sole faculty member for three years out of college and generally the only filly she knew of who had not been in her class those three years had been Namby Pamby, simply because her family had moved to Easy Mark. As a result, she’d not had to deal with any of the parents without the luxury of knowing them as local neighbors. But this time, she needed to confront one of her own students…on the matter of another one of her students. “Rainbow, you know this isn’t going to work!” the educator argued. “I know it won’t, but I’m not like Applejack in being the Element of Honesty!” countered a flustered Rainbow Dash. “I can’t tell Scootaloo she can’t learn to fly!” “Well, I certainly shouldn’t be the one to tell her! It’s bad enough that the fact I’m a fake pegasus gives her reason to believe that under normal circumstances, if an earth pony can learn to fly, a pony born with wings can do even better!” Rainbow glared at Cheerilee. “Scootaloo isn’t Trixie Lulamoon, so  let’s make that clear right now. Plus, shouldn’t she learn that there’s more to flying than just having wings? Don’t you cover that kind of thing in your curriculum anyway?” Cheerilee, in turn, gave a flat stare to her “student” of sorts. “You’ve seen Scootaloo’s grades.  Do you really think she would pay attention to that kind of thing?” The older sister figure nickered. “Well, I’m sorry, but I can’t tell Scootaloo no. I dunno, call it the curse of being the Element of Loyalty, of being a role model for somepony who worships the ground I trot on, but she’s not going to hear her learning to fly a lost cause right now from my lips.” The teacher just facehoofed. This was supposed to have been an easy day: Rainbow’s progress was slightly behind where Cheerilee had estimated where they’d be, but that was from a book. A book that assumed she was a licensed physical trainer not trying to teach a pegasus from the basics on up. Thankfully, the book was written such that even she, a pony who had no clue about teaching pegasus ponies how to fly, could easily teach as if they- “That’s it!” she exclaimed. “What’s it?” Rainbow asked curiously. “How much do you trust Dusty Chalkboard?” “Your sister in law? I…I guess?” “Rainbow, ‘guess’ is not a percentage, or a number, or anything that answers the question.” “Oh, right, er…well, she’s a teacher, too, right? I figure since you and her get along well that she’s trustworthy enough, but she doesn’t know anything about flying, or have your wings.” “Right, but I also have to be the one teaching you since I have a physical education degree, clearly one of the rarest things in all of Equestria. However, that’s only because I’m your supposed ‘therapist’ and this is all being covered by your status as a Wonderbolt Reservist. Scootaloo is not in any form of the Wonderbolts, or undergoing therapy, and it’s the summer.” Rainbow shrugged. “Well, if you think she can do it.” “Think she can do it? I’m positive she not only can, but will be happy to!” “You want me to what?” Cheerilee sighed. This…was not going entirely to plan. “I don’t think I misspoke Dusty, we can’t outright tell Scootaloo we can’t teach her to fly.  She looks up to both of us and to do that would crush her hopes and dreams.” “I’m still not entirely sure on the why she can’t fly,” intoned Dusty. “Seriously, at the very least, she should have some flight capability at her age since wings aren’t…um…well, there’s something you pegasi have that’s more than just wing power, since I did see that giant white one with the tiny wings fly around without issue earlier.“ “Why don’t you consult with your doctor husband, then?” snarked Rainbow. “That’s actually not a bad idea,” admitted Dusty, who then immediately left the interior of the schoolhouse to go consult with said doctor husband, who at the moment was the only one watching over Scootaloo. Five minutes later, Dusty returned, an unreadable look on her face and upon taking her spot from a few minutes before, merely said “huh.” “See what we mean?” reiterated Cheerilee. “As much as I hate to do this to one of my own students, we need to basically teach her to fail.” “You mean I have to in order for both of you to save face.” “Yeah, pretty much.” Dusty sighed. “The things I do for family…” The grateful sister-in-law immediately grabbed up Dusty in a big bear hug. “Oh, thank you thank you thank you! I swear to Celestia I’ll make this up to you!” “How about you start with not…crushing…milungs…” Dusty couldn’t help but be worried that despite having been turned into a pegasus by Discord himself, Cheerilee still had enough earth pony strength to deliver barrel-crushing hugs. Cheerilee immediately backed off and blushed. “Eheheh…sorry.” Rainbow meanwhile just sighed as she went to the door. “Well, we’ve taken long enough; might as well get this over with and let Scoot know what the game plan is…” But when Rainbow opened the door to let in the doctor and the filly, the only two ponies kept waiting outside, she found the latter eagerly bouncing up and down right in front of the door. “Rainbow! Are you guys done discussing the awesome flight therapy plan for today?” “Uh…yeah, about that…” Rainbow averted her gaze from Scootaloo and put a hoof behind her head. “There’s some complications about this whole arrangement that you aren’t going to like…” From  inside, Dusty and Cheerilee watched Rainbow explain how Scoot was not going to be with Rainbow for most of the therapy, and as Scootaloo’s eager smile slowly drooped into that of a horrified frown, Dusty could only shake her head. “This is going to be a long, long day…” “No,” corrected Cheerilee, who despite the situation couldn’t help but smirk a little. “This is going to be your opportunity to see what it’s like teaching a hyperactive filly whose attention will be on everything except the subject she should be focused on.” She then gave an “encouraging” pat on Dusty’s withers. “Welcome to my life as a teacher at Ponyville Elementary, Mrs. Chalkboard.” Tough Love groaned, her boredom reaching almost intolerable levels. “Remind me again why we’re sitting out here pretending to be having coffee at Star Buck’s? Failing Grade nickered in annoyance. “I already told you, we’re here to keep watch on anything that might pose problematic for Club. If anypony figures out what she’s up to and that we’re tied into it up to our withers, losing our tenure as teachers will be the least of our worries given what she needs to do.” “No, I got that part, what I want to know is why she’s the one doing the dirty work while we’re here trying to participate in faked conversation.” “Uh, because of the three of us, only Club has the kind of charisma to hide what she’s doing in plain sight? Seriously, didn’t you ever wonder how she – a pony whose name also is synonymous with ‘Saturday morning detentions’ – never actually served one?” Love shrugged. “Because she was always striving to be more of a teacher’s pet than she thought Cheerilee was? I never saw her doing anything that ultimately would end up with her living up to her name, honestly.” Grade looked at her colleague dumbfoundedly. “You’re telling me you never heard about…oh, yeah, you were off in Neighpon that month because of some wedding in your family.” “What?” asked a shocked Love. “You’re telling me she actually did that?” “Yep. How she managed to sweet talk her way out of the tar incident when it backfired on her is beyond me, but according to Club, it was Cheerilee who somehow moved the bucket from Wind Whisper’s locker to hers.” The burgundy coated mare grinned slightly. “Oh, yeah, that incident. Now that I think about it, wouldn’t good ‘ol Cheeky-lee be a prime mark for being the recipient of that now that she’s got wings?” The other gray mare tapped a hoof to her chin thoughtfully, “That is not a bad idea, Toughie. Granted, I don’t think we’d be able to covertly move a bucket of tar around without it being obvious of our intentions, but I think I could sweet-talk my husband’s re-election committee into giving me a spare jug of poster glue with no questions asked.” “Glue? Seriously?” questioned Love. “Your husband is Red Tape. Didn’t he do the whole thing last election with all his ‘vote for petro’ crap being posted around town with actual red tape and it brought in some more good public opinion or whathaveyou?” “His PR consultant advised against it, something about how doing it again might backfire since now that Tapie is actually in office, having the public see so much red tape from a governing official could be twisted by opponents into showing how much metaphorical red tape there is in the government. So this year his whole theme is about how he is going to be the only ‘red tape’ in the government or some other nonsense.” Tough Love just shook her head, then seemed to notice something as she looked up. “Speaking of ‘red,’ what’s going on with those two?” She pointed with a red foreleg toward a pair of ponies having walked behind the far side of Golden Oaks in relation to where the two scheming teachers were sitting. There was no mistaking the appearance of the smaller mare’s painstakingly conditioned purple mane curls on her pale gray coat, no was there anypony else in Equestria who was like the larger red stallion with the cross section of a green apple for a cutie mark. “No way in Tartarus those two are together for some simple reason like Big Macintosh wanting a suit,” theorized Grade, now leaning forward in her seat to see the odd pairing. “And after Rarity’s attempt to impress Trenderhoof actually made her into an ivory pig in overalls by the end of that disaster, I didn’t think the mare wanted anything to do with farmer stallions.” “Generosity or not, I always have thought of that pony as being something of a gold digger,” came a third voice from behind, startling both Tough Love and Failing Grade out of their seats. As they quickly got to their hooves, they saw their compatriot Breakfast Club looking at them with an unamused expression. “I also thought you two were keeping a look out for me, no?” “Let’s be realistic, here,” nickered Love. “You wanted us to stakeout the public library.” “Yes, the public library where the third most powerful magic using pony calls home-” “Third?” “You know what I mean!” growled Club, following up with a facehoof. “Do I need to explain the plan to you two dingbreezies again?” “Honestly? I think you’re just making a big deal about this, since…well, are you actually going to be doing anything illegal anyway?” Club was about to give a reply, but then mulled it over. “Touche.  Besides, it’s just getting information supposedly available to anypony in town. But at the same time, this is the big one in terms of putting Cheerilee in her place.”  “So, uh, what do you want us to do in the meantime?” “While I’m doing…this thing, you two go figure out what that stud of a stallion is doing with the gold digger. If I remember correctly, Cheerilee’s got the hots for him and Rarity just loves the lovey-dovey crap, so if anything she’s trying to get them back together.” “Wait, they were a thing?” asked a surprised Love. Failing Grade just groaned. “Is there anything you were actually around to see within the past few years, Toughie?” “I have a lot of family all over this planet, okay?” “Ugh!” interrupted the irritated leader of the trio. “You two, go! Now!” With sheepish grins, the other two unicorns quickly apologized before departing to shadow Rarity and Big Mac. Club could only shake her head. “Idiots!  Can’t believe they’re what I have for best friends…” “Look, Rarity, Ah ‘preciate you goin’ to the lengths that y’ done for mah sake, but Ah don’t think bein’ a hunnerd percent formal is going to work.” Rarity nickered lightly. “Oh come now, Big Mac, you want to impress the mare, do you not?” Mac nodded cautiously. “Eeyup, that Ah do, but Ah also know that Cheerilee’s not had th’ best luck when it comes to love.” “Present company included?” teased Rarity. Big Mac nickered. “As much as Ah don’t like how mah sister an’ her friends drugged Cheerilee and Ah into nearly gettin’ hitched like we were in Las Pegasus by makin’ the two of us fall into some fake-kinda  love, the fact she and Ah keep schedulin’ trips to th’ market at the exact same time and seem to have agreed without words to meet at the exact same place where we just waste an hour or two just talkin’ before realizin’ we need to head home…well, Ah’d like to think that’s both of us tryin’ to make a step to findin’ real love between us.” “I see. At least I know that if this does work out and you really do finally hit it off with Cheerilee for real this time, it’s not going to make your sister try to play matchmaker with my life. Goodness knows I worry she’s going to end up in some bizarre, multi-decade on-off relationship and never…well, enjoy marriage’s benefits.” “Uh, arentcha single?” “Oh, um, yes, that is true,” replied Rarity, blushing from having been caught off guard with such a remark. “But a lady can fantasize how having their true love to spend the rest of their lives with in a happy home, can she not?” “Eeyup” was all the stallion said, not wanting to go into the details of the next level of what Rarity would consider “intimate” given that at the rate of insanity her concepts of close relations, it wouldn’t surprise him in the slightest if complex, obscure unicorn fertility rituals were the height of her wildest fantasies. In fact, he already would have told Rarity to stop helping him after she’d revealed how elaborate her plans for a simple date were going to be, but her natural Generosity had kicked in and she’d offered to reimburse Big Mac for how much this plan was going to cost him simply for dinner. After all, when the first words out of the mare’s mouth to describe the restaurant she’d picked out for him to take Cheerilee was “only the most high-class establishment in all of Ponyville,” the actual air inside the building probably was going to be valued as being worth more than the entire acreage of Sweet Apple Acres. Pleasant Demeanor hated his job. As the maitre d’ of Le Cheval Epicurien - “The Epicurean Horse” to the peasants that didn’t know Prench, as his employer would often lament - he basically was the second impression ponies got when they entered the restaurant...the first being the giant brass door that reputedly had been imported from Bitaly and was worth more than his house. Having to stare at the damn thing all day when not running around dealing with rich bigots who were outraged that they got two or four pieces of garlic toast for their overpriced bowl of spaghetti instead of the three exactly specified on the menu, Pleasant was of the opinion it was a waste of money. As was the fountain that continuously ran behind him and probably sought to destroy his bladder control; and the hideously expensive - and in his opinion, gaudy as could be - crystal chandelier that the owner of the restaurant always claimed had been recovered from the ruins of the former castle of Unicornia, when in truth it probably was a cheap fake like most of the other things of “value” in the restaurant. For whatever reason, this establishment existed solely to give middle-class ponies the impression they were dining in the lap of luxury, no different than if they were at the ritziest diners in Manehatten or Canterlot. Unfortunately, it did the job a little too well as while the majority of the clientele were well-mannered (enough) average working ponies, there always was the occasional snob who believed the hype and just had to make a show of coming down to quaint little Ponyville to inevitably give their rave review of the restaurant because as Demeanor had come to realize, the size of a pony’s brain was directly inverse to the amount of money they could throw around like confetti. There were exceptions to this rule, of course: the first was two of the most well-to-do ponies in Canterlot high society, Fancy Pants, and his ladyfriend Fleur Dis Lee.  When they had come to sample the restaurant’s fare, they’d treated everyone within the place practically as peers, comporting with a style and grace that Pleasant wondered if he could bottle and sell to etiquette teachers in Canterlot.  If he could, he could retire as rich as a dragon.  The second case was the local Princess, Twilight Sparkle, and her retinue.  Though they didn’t come often, their status as some of the most well-loved ponies in the land and the veritable embodiments of friendship had shown through in their own courtesy and kindness...even if Lady Pinkie Pie was a bit more rambunctious than what the restaurant was used to. For everypony else, though, well…he wasn’t named Pleasant Demeanor for nothing. As evidenced by the yellow circle on his flanks bearing a simple, smiling face, his special talent was being able to keep a professional calm no matter how dire the situation. Sure, inwardly he could be screaming bloody murder out of raw frustration due to snobs trying to question the smallest things nopony in their right mind would care about, but outwardly he would be the picture of calm. He’d always thought being able to keep a straight expression in the worst of situations would have made him prime material for a political office, but after his brother turned himself in for trying to con an entire town some time back, PD’s job prospects quickly dropped from those lofty ideals and so he had to take what came his way. Unfortunately, between a restaurant maitre d’ for occasional snobs and a position as an entry-level insurance salespony, PD often wondered if he’d chosen the wrong job. All thoughts of the benefits of a career change were quickly dashed, however, when the giant brass door started to creak. Since the lunch service had just wrapped up and dinner was not to begin for another few hours, it was rare that somepony came to dine between those times. Of course, those ponies who did defy normal considerations of when to eat tended to be the most stuck-up and problematic. Then PD really saw what he was going to have to deal with and immediately put on the biggest, authentic-looking fake smile he had. While Rarity was, surprisingly, down-to-earth when it came to respecting others, she was more than simply known around town for her dramatic “episodes” and her devotion to living the high life. She’d also been the reason for several Canterlot elites having come to town to visit her shop…and inevitably be total pains in the plots when they wanted to dine fine. But it was the presence of the large stallion – Big Mac was his name, right? – that confused PD. What was the polar opposite of a pampered pony stallion doing coming to a restaurant with the local diva? The answer was not evidently to actually dine with him, for PD instinctively reached for a pair of menus only for Rarity to raise a hoof. “I do apologize, but my friend Big Macintosh and I are not here to have a late luncheon at your establishment, my good sir,” explained the alabaster mare. “I see,” cooly replied PD. “I presume you wish to make a reservation, madame?” “Well, to be fair, I’m not the mare who the reservation will be for, I’m simply helping this stallion set up the perfect date for his special somepony. Is there an availability for a party of two this Saturday night?” “There is, but I’m afraid there is a minimum dress requirement, this establishment does have to keep up a reputation, you know. The kind of clientele who frequent our tables normally don’t wear…” he glanced over at the strange harness the big red pony had fastened around his neck, “…draftpony attire.” Big Mac’s eyes seemed to harden a little at the dismissive comment, the beginnings of a scowl forming at the ends of his muzzle. Fortunately, Rarity quickly took control of the situation lest her plans of matchmaking assistance crumble before they’d even  been set up. “Sir, I would recommend you pay my friend a little more respect.  He is the elder brother of Applejack, one of Princess Twilight’s court, as much as I am.” Great, so he’s a draftpony and related to somepony with a lot of social clout, internally grumbled the maitre d’.  This was a nightmare in the making, the worst case scenario: having to deal with somepony who clearly was going to be out of place in any situation, but had enough going for them that they were in a way somepony that everypony was going to want to know. The only means of survival PD knew to get through this kind of problem was, essentially, kissing as much plot as possible. “Oh, then I presume he will have proper, formal attire when he and his hopefully-also-formally-dressed companion will be making good on this reservation?” Rarity nodded eagerly. “But of course, with attire designed by yours truly, as you might have realized. Ah, I see you have an opening late Saturday night right here…” She leaned in close to the podium to point out the open reservation slot, but subtly positioned herself such that all Big Mac could see was her backside. PD, for his part, was suddenly wide eyed as the hoof on the podium suddenly produced what appeared to be a magnificent red ruby the size of a robin’s egg. “Make this stallion have the best night of his life,” whispered Rarity, knowing she had the maitre d’ attention, “and I’ll make sure you’re rewarded properly.” “And you’re trying to bribe me because…?” quickly replied PD, eyes narrowing slightly. “Because I’ve heard what can happen to ponies that upper class restaurant staff like you deem improper patronage and since I’m going to be footing this stallion’s bill out of generosity, I’m being a little generous in the interest of covering all the bases.” “And if I refuse?” Rarity’s hoof clenched, crushing the illusionary ruby into dust. “I’m not afraid to get my finely-pedicured hooves a little dirty by asking a party-planning friend of mine I’d like my next birthday party to take place here. I’m sure you heard what happened at Princess Twilight’s party a while back, no?” “Eh, well, that shouldn’t be necessary, I’ll make all the arrangements, Miss Rarity, for your friend and his date!” blurted PD. “Actually, make that two reservations for parties of two, since you’re being so accommodating to me, I may as well eat the food I’m paying for with a friend of my own.” She then glanced over to Big Mac and gave him a wink. He merely smiled in response. PD, on the other hoof, knew his hooves were tied. He’d have to micromanage everything while that stallion was here with his date and whatever sinister plan Rarity was suddenly pulling on him, too. And it wasn’t the chance something could go wrong that scared him so much as it was the thought of Twilight Sparkle’s infamous birthday party happening in an enclosed area instead of the open air garden party that had been destroyed in the aftermath. He was never going to be prepared for that kind of apocalypse. “I must admit, it is refreshing to have somepony come in here and want to talk to me like a regular pony and not shower me with the kind of worship the other princesses deserve,” confided Twilight Sparkle, bringing out a pink tea set for both herself and her guest. “To be quite honest, aside from the fact you can fly,” said Breakfast Club, levitating one of the cups in a pale gray aura, the matching teacup plate following suit, “there doesn’t seem to have been any lasting effect of you attaining such a prestigious title, your majesty.” “Please, no need to be so formal. I get enough of it from everypony else.” Twilight then sat down at the table across from Club. “But you said there was something only I could provide the help you needed?” Club donned a beatific smile. “Indeed, if it’s not too much to ask. There’s just a general subject coming up for the class I’m teaching over the summer and, well…” Twilight’s ears perked up as she visibly started to take a great interest in what was being suggested. “Well, I do take some pride in my ability to be a walking encyclopedia on many subjects, though it’s rare somepony needs my wellspring of knowledge.” “Oh, don’t sell yourself so short, you are Celestia’s prized understudy for a reason after all. Furthermore, if there was anypony I could reliably go to for a refresher on the history of magic, it’s the pony whose cutie mark is all about magic knowledge.” “The history of…magic?” It was immediately obvious that the young alicorn was resisting the urge to immediately explode and flood the immediate area with historical jargon. The grin on her face already looked like it belonged on another physics-breaking pony. “Like…what part of magic history?” Club shrugged. “Oh, just in general, I guess. The curriculum just has ‘Magic History’ listed for the next subject but to be honest, I normally just teach civics courses. Magic History isn’t a subject I normally need to cover so I figure a full, if brief, refresher from the virtual authority of the subject would help me get ‘into the zone’ so to speak. So…why don’t you just start from the beginning?” The gleam in Twilight’s eyes signaled that if there was any hope of this being a short review – short being “within the next five hours” – that such hopes were to note the proverbial “abandon all hope, ye who enter here” sign now hanging above Twilight Sparkle’s head. “Well, in that case, it would be best to start at the beginning. For all of recorded pony history, as well as the truly early era of when the pony tribes of earth, pegasus, and unicorns formed their uneasy understanding that they each needed the others to survive as each subspecies had a connection to the natural energy that runs through all living creatures. But we ponies have a higher level of magic that our sapience allows us to directly manipulate to our will, though that’s kind of a misnomer since only unicorns or, obviously, the rare alicorn among them such as myself,  can control the magic forces through our natural cranial endowments of our horns. For earth ponies, their magic is mostly passive in that they’re naturally the most durable of the three pony types and tend to specialize in artifice or agromancy. Then for pegasi, they can innately use their magic to fly like birds and manipulate the very clouds right down to their density between firm enough for them to stand on or thin enough to vanish at the slightest touch. It’s actually kind of a shame that many ground-bound ponies can’t easily visit the great cloud cities of Cloudsdale or Stratusburg. Admittedly, I’ve only been to Cloudsdale once, by use of my old balloon of course, but now that I’ve got some pegasus magic myself with matching wings I hope to visit there with my friends sometime soon.” “Fascinating, really,” said Club as she feigned a level of actual interest. Truth be told, she didn’t need a refresher on things ponies learned in middle school, or “secondary school” as it was called in Trottingham for whatever reason, but so long as she kept the princess thinking she was legitimately interested in the verbal vomit coming out of her muzzle, it would give Club the cover she needed for the real business she was at the library for. To Twilight, it wouldn’t seem like anything funny was going on outside of Club keeping her teacup perpetually levitated. But to anypony who knew Club’s tricks, it was only to draw attention away from the similarly colored aura of light gray stealthily making its way around the shelves of the library. It was an unusual spell that Club happened to naturally be adept with, what as a teacher she would describe as a magical twist on sneaking glances at cheat sheets. With enough focus, she could generate a magical wisp of energy that, in effect, acted like a third eye that could remotely project what it saw into her mind. She’d often used it to get a leg up on tests she hadn’t studied for because she’d had better things to do, her wisp hidden in her saddlebags where the textbook would yield all the info she needed and its existence hidden by her simultaneously using her magic to levitate her writing utensil. In class as the teacher, she used it as a stealthy means to watch the students if her back was turned, often living up to her name by dealing out detentions to fillies and foals who thought they could break the rules when she wasn’t looking. Now? It was her tool of choice to browse the catalog of Golden Oaks to try and find a particular book necessary to her ultimate plans. Years ago, she’d heard that Twilight Sparkle had used a spell in a book she’d found in the library to grant one of her friends temporary wings and, more importantly, the ability to fly like a natural. Why she hadn’t brought this up and decided that turning Cheerilee into an actual pegasus who had to learn to fly on her own seemed…strange, to put it mildly, for a pony whose accomplishments already had begun to outstrip the famous Star Swirl the Bearded. All the better for showing her up, Club mused, as a smile came to her muzzle. Of course, she’d need to find the bloody book with the spell first, assuming it even was still in the tree library after all this time. And since she didn’t know the title of the book, she had to skim through potentially every last tome in the place to find the spell. An extremely daunting task that under normal circumstances would have been obvious to an observer. And especially somepony like Twilight who truly was so powerful that it was likely her veins ran hot with raw magic than actual blood. But as long as Club kept Twilight distracted and talking, she was in the clear. All in all, noted Club, it’s not that much different than talking to my therapist. Or one of those kinds of parent-teacher meetings. “You have been taking up all of Rainbow Dash’s time that she was going to spend with me and you can’t even really teach her how to fly again!” raged Scootaloo, who for the whole day had been fruitlessly trying to rush through the basics as explained by Mrs. Chalkboard. Naturally, she failed to do more than sustain a hover no more than four feet off the ground. And her plan of using the time to at least have sister experiences with Dash failed miserably and so she needed to blame somepony for all the frustration. “Now, Scootaloo, please…” began Cheerilee, the recipient of the verbal outpouring as of the second she landed back at the schoolhouse.  “That’s why you have somepony else trying to cover for why you can’t teach us both at the same time! You’re a terrible teacher!” Out of words, Scootaloo decided to just turn and run home, the tears beginning to flow freely. Rainbow sighed. “I’ll chase after her, but don’t take it too hard, Cheerilee. She’ll get over it and be back to trying to put you on blind dates in no time.” The recovering pegasus then galloped off after her younger counterpart, glad that the thunderstrike hadn’t robbed her ability to rival Applejack in land speed. Dusty looked apologetically at her sister in law. “Sorry, Cheeri, I guess I screwed that one up, didn’t I?” Cheerilee shook her head. “No, no, it’s not your fault Dusty, it was just a bad situation all around. Especially when it involves the one filly pegasus in the whole town wanting to learn to fly alongside the pony she views as being important to the existence of reality as the Princesses.” The schoolteacher then put a hoof to her head. “Just wish it wasn’t true about how she’s also one of my regular students, either…” Silver’s ears twitched as he registered something in Cheerilee’s voice that didn’t seem right. “Hey, sis, you okay? Given lessons are done, apparently, we probably should get home for some R&R.” The younger sibling waved off the former. “Yeah, I guess. I’ve got some things in the schoolhouse I need to set in order, but I’m okay. I can get home by myself.” “Well, if you’re sure…” replied Silver, before walking off with his wife toward his parents’ house. Cheerilee watched them for a brief second before turning back into the school and closing the door behind her. She needed to be alone after what Scootaloo had said, because while she knew ultimately the filly would beg for forgiveness for meaningless words having been thrown, the bliss of fillyhood ignorance would blind Scootaloo to what meaning had been held by Cheerilee. The self esteem issues she thought she’d buried started to rise again, not invincible but there was a lot for a lot of ponies riding on her ability to get Rainbow back to prime condition, meaning there was a lot of accompanying stress as well. And then, of course, was the inevitable effect of having partaken in some of her booze stash over the past few days as what promised to be a killer migraine started to rise in her head. “Unnnhhh…” she moaned, unused to the feelings of a pre-hangover again. “Maybe I’ll just lay my head on the desk for a little while instead of doing more work.” The second her forehead touched the polished oak of the table, however, Cheerilee was out like a light with a head swimming in a sea of self-doubt and stress and worries of the troubles she would need to face.