Rainbow Dash stared down at the assignment sheet given to her by her superiors. There was only one of them. As if she was staring at a pony with Parkinson’s, she was very uncomfortable and holding a pencil in defensive mode, as if the essay was going to attack her, much like she feared a pony with Parkinson’s would do the same. Only slightly worse.
“I can’t believe I have to write an essay!” she expositioned out loud, grumbling like a upset tum-tum.
The assignment was to write an essay all about clouds. She knew a lot about clouds, being a weather pony and all, but putting clouds on paper seemed like a bad idea. It would just make the paper wet. Which would do no pony no good. However, her teacher explained that she had to write an essay about clouds, which cleared up Rainbow-Dash’s confusion. Kind of like a weather pony clearing the sky... Of clouds.
“I don’t want to write an essay!” Rainbow- expositioned out loud once again, furthering her character development for this piece of literary garbage.
“That ain’t my problem. Now get to work,” condescended the teacher, Human-Centipedeing a stack of paper with a stapler.
Rainbow Desh too, felt like a sharp metal object was piercing her body like the many stapled papers on the teacher’s desk, or like Superman’s real, Kryptonian dad, not his stupid earth dad who just randomly shows up despite the fact that he died from too much tornado in Batman V. Superman, from Man of Steel.
“Why do I have to write this stupid essay about clouds?” Rainbow Dash questioned the teacher, like... I don’t know, a question? What do you want from me, good writing? What do you think this is, Bioshock?
The teacher smirked a smirk so smirkulous that it made Rainbow Dash frown a frowny frown that made her heart sad.
“Do you want to graduate, or not?” counter-questioned the teacher, like she was a contestant on Jeopardy.
“I don’t even go to school! Why am I even taking this essay?”
“Good question.”
Rainbow Dosh looked at the assignment sheet. It looked back at her.
And winked.
Maybe she was hallucinating.
Specifically, the assignment required at least three pages of facts about Clouds and the Strife they cause. Double-spaced, twelve-font [even though it is hand-written (even though she doesn’t have hands)], and half-inch margins. Which is kind of impossible, because this still isn’t typed.
Nervously, Rainbow Dash looked back at the instructions. They didn’t seem to be much help:
1. This essay is worth 70% of your grade. Don't screw up.
2. Your grammar and spelling are harshly graded, but no dictionary for you.
3. Paragraphs are to be at least 5 sentences, but at most 6.
4. We don't care how bad your mouth-writing is, you must follow the font guidelines to a tee.
5. Have fun!
6. Don't actually have fun.
7. Just kidding. Have fun!
8. Or are we?
The list continued for several points after, stopping at number 27 with, That was an Undertale reference in point sixteen. Did you see it? Go back and read number sixteen. Pretty cool, huh?
“These instructions are no help!” griped Rainbow Darsh.
“They’re not supposed to be! Now get back to your essay!”
“Nyeh!” Undertaled Rainbow Dash like a Doom Trot.
“Don’t ‘nyeh’ me. Get back to your essay, I will not tell you again!”
“Why do I have to do the stinkin’ essay?!”
“Once again. Good question. Plus five points to you.”
With new found hope and five extra points in the bank, Rainbow Deersh looked back at her essay in despair, like a little colt looking at his own broken legs.
“Oh gosh,” said Rainbow Dash quietly, like a whispering feather.
“Don’t you swear in my classroom!” reprimanded the teacher. “I will take away those five points!”
“Aw, dangit!” danged Rainbow Dangsh.
“And there goes your five points. Bad Rainbow Dash.”
“Ugh,” urged Rainbow Deesh.
Now was the time to get serious. Putting the pencil in her mouth, she started jotting something down to get her started.
Clouds are like emotions. Nothing is okay until you get rid of them all.
“Yeah, that’s good,” Rainbow Dash complimented Rainbow Dash on Rainbow Dash’s writing ability. “Now, what else do I know about clouds?”
“Well, they’re poofy,” said the teacher.
Rainbow Dash gave the teacher a long, strange stare. After a brief silence, Rainannanan Bow Dash returned to her paper.
“I like that. I’m stealing that.”
Some time passed.
A brief glimpse of a conflagrated Cloudsdale appeared briefly in Rainbow Dash’s mind eye.
What? Clouds can’t catch on fire, thoughted Rainbow Dash. Wait! Clouds can’t catch on fire! I can write that!
Scribbling the totally true fact onto her paper, the teacher returned from the other room with a steaming bowl of soup.
“Hey, that smells pretty good,” Rainbow Dash said, concerning the teacher’s soup. What else would it be concerning? Bones?
“Shut up. Go back to your - whoops!”
Time slowed down like a broken clock. The contents of the soup spilled forward like blood. Or soup. ‘Cause that’s what it was. Soup. Chicken Noodle to be exact.
And then time went back to normal. The soup fell at a normal pace. And then the room caught fire.
“What the-” exclaimed the teacher.
Rainbow Dash in a stunned stupor, looked bewildered at the flames. “But... Clouds can’t catch on fire.”
The glistening flames reflected off of Rainbow’s quivering eyeballs. Pure fear and agony were expressed on her face like a demented Picasso painting. Which don’t exist in Equestria. Rainbow wasn’t afraid that the room was on fire. But was instead devastated by the fact that she was wrong. So very wrong. Like Fluttershy about Tank that one time.
Turtles aren’t reptiles. Dumbhead.
“We need to do something!” interrupted the teacher.
“What do you mean ‘Wii?’ U were the one who spilled the soup and caught the room on fire.” Rainbow twinged, as if she had a Vietnam flashback. “For some reason.”
“Help me, and you’ll get a hundred percent on the essay!”
“Done!”
The two bucked the fire, and they bucked it good, and the fire went away.
Or so they thought.
The fire sprung back to life with burning passion. Li’lerally. And they fought the fire with fire. Which didn’t help.
The two weren’t having luck. They were having bad luck instead of good luck. Everything seemed lost. The two ponies were accepting their fates like they were accepting a bad present from their grandmares. I mean, I appreciate the thought, but I didn’t ask for another sweater and a VHS copy of Dude, Where’s My Car? starring Ashton Kutcher.
“It looks like this is it,” dramatically finaled Rainbow Dash to the teacher.
“The feeling isn’t mutual.”
And that was it. They died.
No, really. They’re dead. That’s it. They died. Like most of the ponies in Cloudsdale. They just died. There is no moral, there is no happy ending. There is sadness and lies. None of this even matters. The only thing that matters is that this happened, and you let it happen. Congratulations. You let innocent ponies burn. They all burned alive. You're a monster.