//------------------------------// // Part One - Not A Wonderful Week // Story: Wonderful // by JMac //------------------------------// Wonderful         Sweetie Belle hunched her shoulders, trying to force the fuzzy collar of her winter jacket further up her neck.           “I apologize, Sweetie Belle,” said Quizzical Greystone.  “I clearly need more practice with the hydrophobic shield spell.  It is not supposed to drip.”         The two fillies walked along the snowy street under a translucent dome.  The dome failed to shed all of the falling snow, and the flakes that clung to it melted.  Some of the water seeped through the magic.         “I should have borrowed an umbrella,” said Quiz.         “No, no, this is still better than than an umbrella,” said Sweetie Belle.  She shook her head, trying to throw the droplets off her mane before any more water ran down her neck.  “I think.  Maybe.”         “Thank you for walking me to the train station,” said Quiz.         “Sure.  What are friends for?”           It was a rhetorical question, one most ponies wouldn’t give a second thought.  But there was a time, not actually very long before, when Quiz would have found this simple question puzzling.   That was before she had moved to Ponyville to assist Twilight Sparkle in her research.  Since then Quiz had learned a tremendous amount about friendship, though she complained that much of what she’d learned still left her confused.  The shy little unicorn was no longer completely socially hopeless, but Quiz still needed a lot of help from her friends.         “So, why didn’t Twilight or Spike walk you?” asked Sweetie Belle.         Quiz sighed.  “Miss Twilight is very busy with her own travel preparations. She leaves tomorrow to be home for the holiday.  We said our goodbyes this morning before I left for school.  As for Spike… he did shout something from the kitchen that sounded like ‘goodbye.’” “Spike might have said goodbye?  Is he mad at you?  Oh, no, did something happen, Quiz?” “Um… there was an accident.”  This was all Quiz offered, and probably all she wanted to say.  She didn’t like to talk about herself.  But if Quiz thought she could just leave it at that, she should have known better. “Tell me what happened,” said Sweetie Belle.  “Tell me, tell me!  You know I won’t give up until you tell me, so just tell me.” “Very well,” said Quiz.  “To begin, the ‘Come To Life’ spell has been added to the long list of magic I am no longer allowed to practice inside.” “Oh, No!” “Oh, yes,” said Quiz.  She went on, sadly, “All I wanted to do was clear the breakfast dishes.  I had badly underestimated how much lift a spinning plate has.  They flew away much too swiftly for me to catch them.  I lost sight of them as they entered the kitchen.  Soon after this the crashing began.” “Crashing?” “Crashing.  There was a great deal of that.  Then the shouting began.” “Shouting?” Quiz nodded.  “Shouting.  Most of that was quite inarticulate, though interpreting the meaning was not difficult.” Sweetie Belle cringed.  “So, Spike was in the kitchen?” Quiz nodded again.  “Oh, yes.  He is unharmed, there is that, at least.  But I have completely ruined his holiday good cheer. Spike was preparing for an all day holiday baking session. We now know that, if we ever wish to remodel the kitchen, we should avoided painting the walls and cabinets the colors of batter and cookie dough.  It is not attractive.” “The walls and cabinets?” “All the walls and cabinets.  The fixtures and stove as well.  And the floor.  Possibly part of the ceiling.  I am uncertain of that, as I did not get a good look.  Spike chased me out of the kitchen with a mop.” Sweetie Belle let out a strangled squeak as she fought not to laugh. “The worst of it is that I left Spike alone to deal with my mess.  That is wrong.  But if I stayed to help clean I would have been late for school, and this is a terrible time for me to get into any further trouble at school.”  Quiz shuddered.  “Of course, even if I stayed, Spike made it clear he did not want my help.  Miss Twilight advised me to just leave him alone.” “Come on, Quiz. He wasn’t really that mad at you, was he?” “As I have already mentioned, he chased me out of his kitchen.  With a mop.” Sweetie Belle covered her mouth with her front hooves, trying to smother a laugh.  She squeaked again. “Feel free to laugh, Sweetie Belle.  I understand.  It is easy to see how most ponies would find this amusing.”  Quiz hung her head.  “It is, however, unlikely that Spike or I will see it that way anytime soon.” “Aww, now I don’t want to laugh anymore.”  Sweetie Belle pouted. On the street outside the station, Celestial Army volunteers, costumed as the founders of Equestria, were ringing bells for charity.  As the two fillies passed, Quiz stopped and levitated a hoofful of coins.  They clinked merrily when they fell into the bright yellow kettle. The volunteers responded with added enthusiasm to their bell ringing and cries of “Merry Hearth’s Warming!” “Bless you, Dear,” said the mare costumed as Clover the Clever.  “The Princesses appreciate your contribution.” “That’s what I keep trying to tell her,” said Sweetie Belle.  “Thank you, Ma’am, and Merry Hearth’s Warming.” “Do not think that snarky comment went over my head, Sweetie Belle,” said Quiz, as they continued down the street.  “And I still feel I have done nothing to deserve… oh, bother!” “What’s the matter?” Quiz was rummaging in her saddle bags.  “That was all of my change.  I meant to hold a little back, in case I come across another group of volunteers.  I will have nothing to offer them.” Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes.  “Quiz, your family gives gazillions of bits to charity every year, and you’re worried about your spare change?” “Firstly, ‘gazillion’ is not actually a number,” said Quiz.  “And secondly, I just dislike walking by bell ringers without leaving them something.” Sweetie Belle stopped and turned on her friend.  “Okay, something is really bothering you, and it’s not just loose coins or spilled batter.  Are you really going to make me nag until you tell me what’s wrong?” “Is there a chance I could just say I have had a bad week, and we could leave it at that?” “No!”  Sweetie Belle stomped her hooves.  This shook the magic dome over their heads, and it shed drops on both of them.  Sweetie Belle ignored the water.  “You are infuriating!” “So you have told me,” said Quiz. “I know, it’s about that dumb poem, isn’t it?”  Quiz did not answer right away, and her silence told Sweetie Belle that she had guessed correctly. Because she was so far ahead of the rest of the class, Cheerilee had Quiz student teach several times a week.  Cheerilee had assigned Quiz a literature lesson in their section on poetry.  So Quiz had chosen a poem and gave copies to all the students.  Her plan was for them to take it home to read, and they would read it aloud in class and discuss it the next day. The trouble began when some of the children showed the poem to their parents. “It was such a stupid mistake,” whispered Quiz.  “I found the poem in the library’s adult section, but I thought that was because of the language level.  I judged it to be challenging, but not over the class’ heads.  I admit, I am not very worldly.  It never occurred to me that the poet was alluding to anything but romantic love.  I misinterpreted all the metaphors.  I did wonder why the poet seemed obsessed with peaches, but I thought that meant that love is sweet like fruit.  Now I have been accused of distributing smut in school.” “Oh, Quiz!”  Sweetie Belle gave her friend a big hug.  “Settle down, and try to breath normally.”   Sweetie Belle was afraid Quiz would faint again.  She’d swooned three times on the day of the lesson, after Cheerilee explained, as gently as possible, just what Quiz had read.  Quiz managed to recover this time. “Miss Pince Nez at the Board of Education has gotten a flood of complaints from angry parents.  I will likely lose my teaching certificate.”  Quiz paused to wipe something from her cheek.  It was not melted snow.  “Miss Cheerilee and Miss Twilight have come to my defense and I wish they would not.  It will damage their reputations, and threatens Miss Cheerilee’s job.” “They care about you, and you can’t expect them to just stand by when you’re in trouble,” said Sweetie Belle.  “You would do anything for your friends.  Why do you always object when your friends do anything for you?” “As their friend, I should not become a burden to them,” stated Quiz. Sweetie Belle gave up.  They’d had this argument before.  “Anyway, this can’t be all your fault.  I know you, Quiz. Almost all you read is non-fiction.  Poetry isn’t exactly your thing.  So, somepony must have suggested this poem to you.  Who did it?” “Um… I did receive some advice,” said Quiz, evasively.  “But I do not think this excuses me from blame…” “Who did it?” Quiz cringed.  “You are thinking I have been tricked.  I... might have thought that as well.  I reviewed the poem… I believed I was being careful.  It is my own fault for deciding it was safe…” “Who did it?!” Quiz sidestepped until she was at the edge of her magic dome, as far from Sweetie Belle as she could get without stepping into the street.  “When I tell you, could you please not shout and do a double face-hoof, as you usually do?  Diamond Tiara suggested the poem.” “I knew it!”  Sweetie Belle kept her volume just low enough to avoid causing a scene there on the street.  “Does Cheerilee know?” Quiz nodded. “And how is Diamond being punished?” Quiz sighed.  “Diamond claims that she also did not know what the poem was about.  I understand she and her parents had a long, uncomfortable talk.” “That’s it?!”  There was no attempt at volume control this time, and ponies stopped to stare at the two fillies. Quiz nodded again. “Arrrrrrg!!!”  Sweetie Belle did a double face-hoof. “Please, we are becoming the center of attention.  Could we just get out of the snow?”  Quiz hurried into the station, forcing Sweetie Belle to follow. Once inside, Quiz dispelled her magic dome and found an empty bench where she could wait for her train.  Sweetie Belle was reluctant to leave her.  “You know, I don’t think they’ll take your teaching permit.  Not when you’re the most popular tutor in school.” “Yes, well,” muttered Quiz.  “That argument would have more weight if I had managed to get any of my students passing grades this semester.  I failed to do that.” “That’s not really fair, since your students were Snips and Snails,” said Sweetie Belle.  “Besides, a D+ is a passing average.  It’s not a ‘Quiz-Greystone-Pass’ but it’s an ‘Every-Other-Pony’ pass.  And Snails did pretty good in science.” “Yes, because we covered the biology section on invertebrates, Snails did get a C-.” “See?  You didn’t do so bad.” “Science is the only subject I did not tutor Snails in.” “Oh.” Quiz folded her legs and lay on the bench.  Her whole body seemed to sag.  “It is my third student who concerns me the most.  I promised Scootaloo a passing grade in math and I did not keep that promise.” Sweetie Belle stood next to the bench and put a leg across Quiz’s shoulders.  “You never promised her anything.  You just encouraged her.” “It feels like a broken promise,” said Quiz.  “She tried and tried, and she worked so very hard.  And I simply could not help her.  Scootaloo cannot do word problems. She just does not get them.” “Scoot doesn’t blame you.  She’s grateful that you tried.” “Perhaps.”  Quiz had nothing more to say. The train for Canterlot pulled into the station, and Quiz stood and picked up her bag.  Sweetie Belle enveloped her in a huge hug, which Quiz returned with only slightly less enthusiasm. “You’re just feeling a little down, right now.  You’ll get over it,” said Sweetie Belle.  “Go home, be with your family, and enjoy your holiday.  You’ll be feeling better soon.  I’ll see you next week.” “Of course,” said Quiz, though she did not sound convinced.  “Goodbye, Sweetie Belle.  Merry Hearth’s Warming.” As soon as Sweetie Belle had left, the conductor made an announcement.  “Attention, all Canterlot passengers.  Due to bad weather along the route, this train is delayed and will remain in the station until further notice.  Thank you for your patience.” “Oh, darn it!”  Quiz’s father was an even greater stickler for punctuality than Quiz.  If he was not ten minutes early he considered himself late.  He would be waiting with the family carriage to pick Quiz up on time, and Quiz would not be there. “My father, and possibly my whole family, will be waiting in the cold for me for however long it takes to clear the tracks.  Am I able to do anything without becoming a burden?” With nothing else to do, Quiz went to board her train and wait.  As she crossed the station she muttered to herself, “I believe the world would be better off if I never existed.” Quiz was lost in her terribly depressing thoughts, and never noticed the overladen baggage cart.  The porter, pushing a cart piled higher than his head, never saw Quiz. Crash! # Quiz moaned, and slowly opened her eyes. “Oh, good. She’s awake.” Quiz found herself on the train.  Across from her sat two of the Celestial Army volunteers, the ones costumed as Clover the Clever and Smart Cookie.  She sat up with a start when she realized her head was resting against the flank of a strange mare. “Now, Dear, take it slowly.  You’ve had a nasty turn,” said the mare.  She was dressed as Private Pansy. “I do not remember boarding.  Did you help me onto the train?” The Smart Cookie player nodded.  “But don’t thank us yet.  We’re just getting started.” Quiz felt motion.  She asked, “How long have we been underway?” “Don’t worry about that,” said ‘Clover.’  “We’ll get to Canterlot as soon as we’re done here.  Time isn’t one of our problems.” “I do not understand.” “Well, we’re here for you, Little One,” said ‘Cookie.’  “You did summon us, after all.” “I summoned you?” “Not literally,” said ‘Clover.’  “But when you said ‘I believe the world would be better off if I never existed’ that counted as a summons.  It’s our duty to show you how wrong that is.” “We came to help you, Quizzical,” said ‘Pansy.’  “We’re angels.”