//------------------------------// // May Drabble - // Story: Auto's Authentic Anecdotes // by Autocharth //------------------------------// Twilight and Pinkie Pie play chess. Twilight smiled across the table at her opponent, not without a tiny hint of condescension. She shouldn’t be so cocky, she knew. It was unbecoming, and certainly rude to her guest. How would she have felt, had she been sitting opposite an ingenious unicorn who had dominated every tournament in Canterlot with ruthless, Princess-trained efficiency? ‘Oh Celestia, I’m turning into Rainbow Dash.’ “Sooooooo…” Pinkie dragged the word out, bouncing her hoof from piece to peace moment by moment. “What’s the little tower do again?” ‘Don’t...be...smug...’ “It moves in a straight line,” Twilight answered. Her gaze locked on the chess board with unwavering focus. “As far as you want, so long as it’s unobstructed.”  Pinkie nodded, and moved an entirely different piece. ‘Ah, a Baltimare pincer.’ Twilight’s mental image of the board jumped forward a few turns. ‘I move my knight, and next she’ll move her...yes, that pawn, which means after my next turn...’ Her smile trembled, the urge to smirk nearly overcoming her modesty. ‘Checkmate.’ “As I was saying; ‘I looked at him all like ‘whoa, too far!’ but he didn’t notice, I think because of all the hot sauce in his eyes,” Pinkie said, resuming her story. Her attention didn’t so much ‘waver’ as ‘skitter about wildly’. “Mhmm.” Nodding, Twilight carefully moved her piece. “Your turn.” Pinkie moved a piece, giggling as she bumped over a rook. “There was all this shouting and yelling, but don’t worry, I have some vinegar to help clean him up! I dunno why, but that didn’t make him happy either! I don’t suppose you can use that big brain of yours to work out why?” Twilight nodded again. Her magic gently shifted her queen. ‘Nearly...’ “Great, what do you think-” Pinkie tapped a knight from one step to the next. “-checkmate- you can tell me?” ‘Alright, time to...’ Her magic grasping a bishop, the magenta aura trembled. Pinkie’s voice rang in her ears, bouncing about the scholarly mare’s head with a word she knew Pinkie couldn’t possibly have said. “...checkmate?” “Uh huh.” Pinkie’s smile was wide and genuine. “Do you think I should have used some lemonade to clean it out? I heard that’s good.” She blinked, cocking her head to the side as Twilight’s mane came to life. At least, locks began to spring out, turning the neat style into a ragged mess in seconds. Twilight’s eyes never left the chessboard. Pinkie leaned forward, trying to hear the words whispered from Twilight’s twitching lips. “When did- no, couldn’t have, I was- yes, was it- oh, no, maybe…” “Uh, Twilight?” Pinkie felt a flutter of worry. Fortunately it was completely dissipated when Twilight’s head jerked up, and her eyes pierced Pinkie’s soul with uttered need. “Rematch.” The word came out mechanically. Magic swirled around the board, gathering pieces, putting them in place. “Gee, I’d love to play again Twilight, but I gotta go foalsit-” began Pinkie Pie. Magic cut her off, sealing her mouth. “Rematch.” Twilight pinned her in place with a glare. “That was….that was a statistical error.” Pinkie was all smiles, and she was all smiles until she won. “Rematch.” “...I guess the Cakes won’t mind if my lunch lasts a little longer…” Half an hour later… “Rematch.” “Just one more…” “Rematch.” “I’m getting kinda hungry.” “Rematch.” “Are you sure?” “Rematch.” “...” “Rematch.” Pinkie yawned. Rubbing her eyes, she blinked slowly. “Rematch.” Twilight sat as she had for the past few hours, her intense focus unbroken. Her stomach, she distantly noticed, was grumbling. This was regarded as irrelevant and promptly discarded by the rickety mooring that was her mind. “Twilight…” Despite her best efforts, Pinkie yawned again. Her eyelids drooped. Her body cried out for sleep, yet she forced her hoof to move her pawn. Each movement was slow and uncertain. Compared to machine-like speed of the unicorn opposite her, she was practically slothful. Twilight said nothing. There was no space for words in her mind. Only chess. Only the impossibly that she was losing to Pinkie Pie. As Pinkie’s rook slipped into place, she twitched and looked up. Their eyes met. “...” Pinkie shuddered. Why? She hadn’t meant to win. Why did every random, aimless movement win her each and every game? She gulped. “...c-checkmate…” “Rematch.” Hope arrived without warning, the door opening. In the moonlight of an unnoticed moonrise, Carrot Cake, Mister Cake, strode in. "Pinkie! You were supposed to come back from break hours ago!" "Help me Mister Cake! She won't let me leeeeeeeeeave!" Pinkie rolled onto her back, legs kicking in air like a turtle rolled onto its back, unable to save itself. Mr. Cake's eyes meet Twilight's for just a second, as a cold feeling begins to seep into his heart. Those eyes... They held a promise. He saw his life flash before his eyes. He saw every moment with his wife and children he had enjoyed, and how much he would miss those if he interrupted. He gulped. "... I'll just leave you to it then." “Noooooooo!”