//------------------------------//
// The Gift of the Maud Pie 
// Story: A Dream 
// by totallynotabrony 
//------------------------------//

	Rarity knocked on the door.  Sunset answered.
“Good morning, Sunset.  I was hoping I could make a small request of you.”
Sunset looked as if she hadn't slept in too long.  “What do you need?  I’m working on something.”
“I was hoping Pinkie and I could borrow Tin Mare for the day.  We’ve scheduled a visit to Manehattan and flying would make the trip much quicker.”
Sunset considered it and then shrugged.   “I don’t see a problem with that.”
“Thank you, dear.”
“Rarity, did I ever tell you that I find you the third least annoying pony in the group?”
Sunset didn’t mention group size.  Third out of six left a ways to go.  Rarity decided to assume she meant more.  “For what it’s worth, Sunset, I appreciate that you’ve involved me in far fewer crazy schemes than Valiant.”
“We’ll see,” said Sunset.  She closed the door.
Rarity was suddenly unsure if she really wanted to borrow Tin Mare.
Still, when it came time to leave, she and Pinkie boarded the aircraft.  Braeburn was already there.  “Tin Mare said she was going to Manehattan.  I thought that sounded interesting.  I’ve never been.”
A moment later, Twilight and Cordoba came aboard.  “Cordoba mentioned Tin Mare was making a trip to Manehattan, and I thought it was a perfect way to introduce some friendship lessons,” said Twilight.
Cordoba smirked behind Twilight’s back.
Tin Mare flew them.  When she landed in Manehattan, the group split up.  Rarity and Pinkie went to meet Maud.  Twilight and Cordoba went to see the sights in hope of encountering a friendship problem.  Braeburn stayed with Tin Mare.
“What’s that on your tail?” Braeburn asked.
“Cordoba painted ‘hashtag Valiant did nothing wrong.’  It seemed to amuse her.”
Tin Mare, as has been established, didn’t give a shit.
Braeburn had seen the phrase around and while he didn’t like the implications, decided to change the subject.  “What do you think of Manehattan?” he said.  “I sure haven’t seen tall buildings like these before.”
“The buildings increase the difficulty in targeting,” Tin Mare noted.
She saw the look Braeburn was giving her and added, “I can understand how the architecture can be quite striking.”
“I think it’s interesting how you can learn,” he said.  “You may not feel something like most ponies do, but you know what to say to acknowledge that.”
“I have a brain.  Of course I can learn.”
“So why can’t you learn something besides your programming?” Braeburn asked.
“To avoid logical paradoxes, I was programmed not to think about such things,” said Tin Mare.  “I have no desire to do so.”
“What if I asked you to?”
“I would have to decline.”
“But why?” Braeburn insisted.  “If Valiant told you not to think about your programming, why can’t I tell you different?”
“Because you are not Valiant.”
“Valiant’s dead.”
“I know.”
“Do you feel some kind of remorse or loyalty for him, even now?” Braeburn asked.
“I do not feel.  His death inconvenienced me.  Nothing more.  He did not tell me to do anything more.”  Tin Mare paused.  “Though, I understand that there may be some expectation that I would mourn my creator.”
“Well, if you don’t mourn him, he can’t have been that important.”
“Valiant was hella important.  He said so himself.  Praise Valiant.”
You’re welcome.
Braeburn glanced at the sky in annoyance before turning back to Tin Mare.  “But he’s dead and you don’t care about him.”
“I am unable to care, just as I am unable to violate the programming he gave me.”
“Doesn’t that frustrate you?”
“I have no feelings.”  Tin Mare examined his face with her camera.  “Though, you seem frustrated.  Is it because of something I did?”
“This stubborn refusal.  You can learn.  You can change.   But you refuse to use your brain for its true purpose.”
“I do not refuse.  Rather, I am unable.”
Her quiet admission changed Braeburn’s mood in an instant.  He shouldn’t be arguing with her.  Not that it would hurt her feelings, but because it simply was not possible for her to budge, even if she did want to.  He would have to find another approach.
“Would you like a tour of Manehattan from the sky?  I think that will make you happy.”
Braeburn nodded.  “I’d like that.”
Elsewhere, Maud was meeting up with Pinkie and Rarity.  Maud appraised Rarity’s body while Rarity studiously pretended she wasn’t.
Pinkie had already gotten Rarity to agree to help her get the perfect gift for Maud.  Pinkie had decided on a pouch so Maud could carry around her pet rock.  Trouble was, she hadn’t bought it yet.  When Maud stepped away for a moment to look at souvenirs, they talked.
Rarity quickly came up with a plan.  “Luckily for you, I know exactly what you should do!  Why not sight-see on a path that leads right to the pouch store?  That way Maud won’t get suspicious!  I’ll come with you to, um, distract Maud.”
“So I can sneak away to pick out a rock pouch!” finished Pinkie.  “And if you're coming with us, you can look at boutique locations along the way!  And Maud can ogle you some more!  It’s the perfect plan!”
“Yes, yes, let’s not get too excited,” Rarity reminded her.
The plan worked pretty well.  They saw some sights and played tourists, including going to an all-year ice rink.  Even if Rarity wasn’t attracted to Maud, she had to admit her ice skating skills were impressive.
They ultimately ended up at The Cantering Cook restaurant for lunch, only a block away from the pouch store.  After another quick bit of planning, Pinkie snuck away to buy the perfect pouch.
She almost got arrested.  In Manehattan, ponies actually called Pinkie on her tomfooleries.  She came back to the restaurant.  One ice cream sundae later, she’d discreetly explained to Rarity that the door to the rock pouch store was locked because the owner was on a sudden vacation to Canterlot with his grandniece for a few moons, so there was no way Pinkie could get the perfect present for Maud, and now she don't have any present for her sister at all, so it would be be the worst Pie Sisters’ Surprise Swap Day ever.
Rarity assured Pinkie that it would be fine and that they could find another gift elsewhere.
We just skipped a lot of overdramatic, sappy dialogue.  Hope you’re happy.
Meanwhile, Twilight and Cordoba were in a museum.  It featured various Bridleway performers.
“Trixie could take any of them in a fight,” Cordoba insisted.
“It’s about stage performers,” Twilight argued.
“Trixie’s the best stage performer.”
“But she’s not in the museum.”
“It’s not a hall of fame,” Cordoba pointed out.  “Trixie once took Ponyville hostage and since her renaissance as my sister has fought in many battles for the sake of Equestria’s future.  That’s more notable than some old ponies cavorting on stage.  She deserves to be mentioned in the museum.”
It was honestly hard to argue against that.  Trixie was notable.  Twilight liked when things were factual.  “Let’s see if we can find a curator.”
“Who?” said the museum staffer when they talked to him.
“Trixie,” repeated Cordoba.  “The greatest magician that ever lived.”
“Self-proclaimed,” Twilight corrected out of the corner of her mouth.
“She beat you once and she could do it again,” Cordoba said, not bothering with discretion.
She turned back to the curator.  “So are you going to do this?”
“I still don’t know who this Trixie is.”
“Do you have kids?” Cordoba asked.
“No.”
Cordoba drew her cutlass and extended it beneath the stallion’s body, where the tip poked a very sensitive place.  “If you want them, you’ll find out who Trixie is.  And put her in the museum.”
Twilight quickly pulled her student away.  “You have to stop threatening ponies to get what you want.  It’s illegal, on top of a whole lot of other things wrong with it.”
A mild reminder of Twilight’s current immunity status went through her head, but Cordoba didn’t know about that, Twilight thought.
“If I have the ability, then why should I not try as hard as I can to achieve results?” Cordoba asked.  “Do you not want me to succeed?”
That tripped Twilight up for a moment, but she came back with, “You can’t do it at the expense of other ponies.”
Cordoba processed that.  “Not even if they have wronged me?  Don’t you care about justice?”
“I care about righting wrongs.  Teaching somepony they did something wrong and rehabilitating them is more effective than punishing them.”
“I have no rainbow-colored friendship-compelling mind-control magic,” said Cordoba.  “I must use my own methods.”
Twilight gave an involuntary shudder.
Back with Rarity, Pinkie, and Maud, a potential solution had been reached.  While not in the intended pouch shop, the desired double stitched pouch with a red drawstring, ochre-flecked velvet lining, and reinforced triple-crosshatched seams had been located.  The problem was, it already had an owner.
Long story short, Pinkie traded her party cannon for it and it was ironic because Maud’s gift to Pinkie was confetti for her party canon.  We’ve seen this trope before, so let’s move on.
When the error was discovered, Maud was upset that Pinkie would make such a sacrifice and tracked down the sleazy pony to whom Pinkie had traded her cannon using a deus ex machina skill she called Maud Sense, which really isn’t that big of a deal considering all the meta shenanigans Pinkie routinely pulls.
“I’d like to return this pouch for my sister’s party cannon, please,” said Maud.
“Sorry, missy, all sales are final,” he replied.
Twilight and Cordoba joined the scene, having exited the museum.  “What’s going on?” Twilight asked.
Pinkie told her the whole story, and told it Pinkie-style.  Dialogue omitted here for obvious reasons, natch.
“Well, Rarity’s really good with fabric,” said Cordoba.  “Why doesn’t she just make a duplicate of that exact pouch?  Or buy it, considering she’s rich enough to be shopping for a third store location.  And Pinkie surely has money for money emergencies.  She’s also one of the best bakers in Equestria, able to use pastries for currency.  And what about Maud?  Surely she knows the most precious gemstones.”
“You were also endowed with quite a few finances after your father passed away,” noted Twilight.
“And you still own shares in Valiantco® so don’t give me any caca about being the one to buy it for Pinkie.”
“But you could,” said Twilight.
“I could also just take it from this guy,” said Cordoba.
“Don’t do that,” Twilight implored.
Cordoba shrugged.  “I know you think of me as a loose cannon, and I will admit that I am highly prone to violence and mayhem, but I don’t do things without a reason.  I have no reason to be involved in this party cannon versus pouch dispute.”
“No reason?” said Twilight.  “What about helping your friends?”
“I just pointed out several ways they could help themselves a minute ago.”  Cordoba turned.  “Now if all of you do not mind, I am going to get a coffee.”
“Hold on,” said the sleazy pony.  “All this talk about stocks and gems and pastries makes me think we could have a little auction for the highest bidder.”
Cordoba whipped out her cutlass and sliced his head off.
“What did you do that for?!” screamed Twilight.  “I thought you said you didn’t do things without reason!”
“I had a reason.  He was in my way.”  Cordoba stepped over the body.
Twilight shook her head.  “Forget friendship training, you need a mental institution.”
“But wouldn’t that mean you failed as a friendship teacher, Twilight?”  Cordoba smiled.  “You just stood there and let them psychologically torture that poor pony, leading him on and making him think he was going to get a huge payday.  Then not intervening before I killed him.  You’re a terrible friend, Twilight.”
Cordoba bent down.  “Oh look, someone dropped this party cannon and this rock pouch on the ground.  Pinkie, Maud, you look like you could use these.”
Cordoba handed them over and went on her way into the coffee shop.
Twilight’s eye twitched.
Oh, and later that day Rarity found a place to put her new boutique.