“Grand Galloping Gala not perfect! Yaks SMASH!”
Princess Celestia turned her head away so she could roll her eyes. Who had invited these guests anyway? She was completely in favor of adding some excitement to the stale, exhausting Gala, but these yaks took everything they did too far. On second thought, what she craved was unpredictability, and the Yakyakistan style of emotional expression was more predictable than Celestia's daily sun guiding routine.
“Yaks SMASH!” they repeated. Suspended within the globules of Smooze that covered most of the ballroom, the yaks were barely able to quiver a few leg muscles. No matter how much they struggled against the incredibly viscous substance – and these yaks were quite used to struggling against their environment – it was like they were hardly moving at all. However, the futility didn't dampen their their destructive enthusiasm one iota.
Well, thought Princess Celestia, at least this took care of itself. I think I'll leave them in there until they calm down.
One thousand years later, the super-slow-motion smashing finally cracked through the load-bearing foundations of Canterlot Castle, sending it crashing down the mountain in a terrible rockslide.