//------------------------------//
// [Z] A Perfect End to a Perfect Day, in Spite of the Muffins 
// Story: The Last Illusion 
// by ScientistWD 
//------------------------------//

	After Amy and Rarity wished her luck and she fixed her kindly dress best she could, she took her bedroom window to the roof. Pegasi tended to meet in high places. Why Miss Doo had never taken this route to work was a mystery.
But she was taking it now.
The window shut, and she hung off of the sill for a moment. She blinked, twice, as a small smile tightened on her face. Red welled in wave crests on her cheeks, and she fluttered her wings. This made her dress ruffle, and her altitude tumble. Wings spread wide, and she rolled into the sky. Where she landed, her four hooves met the floor hard and she shook. Unable to help but peek at her knees, eyelashes drooping as she could barely keep herself straight.
“Ditzy Doo!”
The sun was in a volatile position, and time would soon give way to its descent. But right now, it was still very yellow, and it bounded over the bright rooftops of Canterlot. They followed the wind, bouncing through her mane and its golden bangs. Somehow, between the light of the evening, the hair in front of her face, and whatever fate had crooked her vision, it seemed that no manner of thing could keep her gaze from the affable grin of Sonny Weathers.
“S…! Sonny!” she shied. “Your collar looks good!”
“Ha-ha!” was his counterattack. “I know! But Ditzy Doo, you look fantastic today, too!”
“Oh!” She stroked her mane, and hid a bit. So shy, but so quick. “You don’t think it’s too… old fashioned, do you?”
“No, not at all. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it! Your mom and I were the first to ever see you in it, remember?”
“Gosh! I don’t know if I’m frustrated you remembered or glad!”
“Whaaat? Why’d you be frustrated?”
Miss Doo backed away a few steps, and Sonny Weathers raised an eyebrow, prying with it. “So I could make fun of you!” she answered, flicking his nose with her wing. “Of course!”
“‘Of course,’ of course. Sigh, am I so doomed to be made fun of all my life?”
“Heh heh! Yep!”
“Well, well, Ditzy Doo.” Sonny Weathers stepped toward the edge of the rooftop, tip of his forehoof clipping its edge. “I say, it is high time we get this evening underway.” He held out his free hoof, wind combing his fun, blue mane. “Wanna fly around? For old time’s sake!”
Miss Doo looked at his hoof, then at his face. So sincere, were his eyes. So green and kind, not alluring but inviting. And as she stared, as his smile fell to concern and he asked “Is something wrong?” she was lost for a moment. His words caught her back, and she blinked a few times. A clever smile made its way after that.
She took the hoof, and it tensed in his.
“Not a single thing is wrong at all!”
And she pulled him into the sky.
The horizon made a line across its canvas, and from it colors ran like paint. Yellow, blue, a bit of scarlet and purple; Miss Doo and Sonny Weathers flew from rooftop to rooftop, detouring with hefty spirals. It was easy to imagine. A dip, then a dive, one coming to take care after the other. These two had certainly flown together before. Their dance seemed rehearsed. But at the same time, it could not have been. Miss Doo fell, eyes closed and teary from the wind of flight, with complete satisfaction that this day could only end well.
“H…hey Sonny…”
“Hey, Ditzy Doo!”
“Um…! I was wondering the other day… Have you ever been in love?”
“Ha! Yes, definitely!”
They were moving so fast. It was a wonder how the two of them hadn't managed to collide.
“Actually, Ditzy Doo… If you couldn't tell I am in love right now!”
As they flew, the sky became indigo. Time was passing far too quickly. Clouds snaked across the yellow sky, making it purple and dark. Just as gently, Miss Doo and Sonny Weathers landed in front of a trellis overgrown with daisies: the gate to where they would be dining this evening.
“Whew!” he smiled, smoothing his collar and returning it to place. “That was fun, Ditzy Doo, it always is!”




The scribe was packaged into a small saddlebag for the evening. Actually quite cozy. Much like the restaurant.
It was lit by small candles. One on each table, hardly anypony out tonight. Miss Doo and Sonny took a table at the edge of the room, just near the corner to the hallway. It was probably too large for only two ponies.
“And then you were like, ‘Well, someone’s gotta eat this potato’! And his face got so red! Do you remember that, Ditzy Doo?”
“Heh heh! Yeah, I totally do; he made me fly for three hours after that!”
This pair of ponies may have actually dampened the mellow atmosphere with their banter, always cheerful and a bit boisterous.
“After that day, I said to myself ‘There’s a swell pony I can get along with’. We had a lot of good times back then.”
“Well, Sonny, I just couldn’t let our teacher bully you!”
“That’s what makes you such a good pony, Doo. You always know what’s most important.”
One could barely hear the lousy raindrops pattering on the roof.
“Sonny Weathers…”
He smiled, and asked. “Yes?”
There was something strange about Ditzy Doo. She had her hooves in a bundle, dwindling them under the soft tablecloth. She hummed a little to herself, trying to catch whatever words had been on her tongue. Her eyes crossed, a bit more so than usual. And her insides were pounding something fierce. Her smile suddenly flashed on and off, as if her mouth had joined her eyes in disarray. Hooves clipped one another, rubbing as if they too could not manage to move. Her whole body was hot with friction, struggling to find its conclusion.
“Ugh!” she grimaced, almost sickly. “Sonny Weathers!”
“Ugh!” he replied in jest. “Ditzy Doo! What’s up?”
She lifted her head, scrunching her face like a frustrated foal. “Unbelievable, Sonny Weathers! I’m just… I’m just really glad we could become friends again!”
“Gad-zooks, Doo, me too!”
“No, I mean like…” She gave a rough sigh. “Like, I’ve been living on my own in Canterlot for a couple of months now, and it’s really hard and I’m kind of worried? Don’t get me wrong, I like living and making it on my own and finally being independent, but it’s way more stressful than I thought! Not to mention kind of lonely coming home to an empty room most of the time, and the scribe doesn’t even write most days. It’s like ‘what did I even do today’, you know? And on top of that, I swear, I almost lost my job the other week! Then where’d I be? The landlord’s a little bit miffed with me because I sometimes forget to pay him; what if I was unemployed, too, it’d all be a huge disaster! I… I like… I just… I have no idea what…” She paused. Then, she breathed in, and out. “Spending time with you makes me feel better about everything, is what I mean, Sonny!”
Sonny Weathers looked his best, and with his bottom dollar gave a firm nod. “Hey. No sweat. Life isn’t easy as you get older, you know? Way against the plan, I’ve been unemployed these past few months. Can you imagine what my old man would say? He’s always been trying to get me to work harder, to keep striving for higher and higher ranks in Weather Patrol, and I get that for some ponies, that’s what you do! But not me, I’m totally fine without my own sector, working some local thing. I don’t need to go any higher! So long as you have everything you need, nopony should stress themself out too much just for its own sake!” He reached his hooves across the table, rattling the silverware with their bold proclamation and lurching forward. “Don’t worry, Ditzy Doo! You’ve got a friend in Sonny Weathers! Just let me know, and I’ll do what I can, okay!?”
The tablecloth scrunched back to what was more or less its default position as Sonny Weathers returned to his seat like a civilized gentlecolt. “Now,” he continued, smoothing his mane in an attempt to look cool that was mostly just goofy. “‘Scribe’, you said? What is that?”
“Um… um um…” Miss Doo pink cheeks had to dampen a moment before she could continue. She pulled on her mane, only once. “Um, oh! That’s right, I… I should show you, it’s right here in my bag…” She undead its latch, and dragged a few papers to the table.
“Wait, wait, Ditzy Doo, me first,” he waved. “As much as I’m sure your random thing I’ve never heard of is super cool, I have to show you something first!”
Miss Doo’s naturally wandering eyes took notice of the scribe’s current activity, but it wasn’t enough for Sonny to take heed. Only paper. But in time, he would surely be impressed with the scribe like the others had been. “Heh. If you say so, Sonny, but my thing’s pretty cool.”
“Ditzy Doo,” he joked, rising from his chair. “As if. This is the reason I invited you out here! It’s a big surprise!”
With some fanfare, Sonny Weathers walked a very short distance to another part of the restaurant. From just beyond the corner, he called out to her. “Now presenting…” he began, with a voice that made Miss Doo’s chest swell for a moment. “A very special somepony…! Violet Covers!”
Henceforth, a hoof emerged and landed on the soft floor as if it were wading through dark fog. In the company of Sonny Weathers was a pony who lurked like a firefly. Her fur was nocturnal, muddied and blurred between visceral blacks and purple hues. Her hooves had been properly done up for the occasion, as they couldn't utter a sound. Black wings, wide as the final notes of sunset, cast large shadows in the candlelight, indistinguishable from the silken dress she wore for the occasion. One would think her the incarnate of darkness if not for her eyes. As orange and as blinding as fire. Glowing orbs beneath the curled black bangs on her head. Her mane kept short and professional, save for the tail that trailed behind her like ripples on a pond at midnight.
She was the perfect end to his perfect day.
“So…? Huh…?" Sonny Weathers popped out from behind her. "What do you think! Say ‘hello’!”
The confusion on Miss Doo’s brow was observed by the austere Violet Covers. Somewhat like a hawk.
“Ditzy Doo,” she began, her demure voice like a drop into water. “I... am Violet Covers, the pony whose mail you have been delivering to 662 on ninth. It would seem… that my fiancé could better use his skull if it were splattered like a watermelon.”
This only made her more confused, some kind of heat still welling in Miss Doo’s small chest.
“Oh you kidder!” went Sonny. “I thought this would be more fun and exciting as a surprise!”
“You know I don’t do well like this.” Violet snapped back at him.
“Look, it’s okay, we’re all friends here,” he returned. He led Violet to the table, closing the distance between all three of them. With a hoof to emphasize his points, he spoke. “Ditzy Doo. This is my fiancée, Violet Covers.” He made a gesture. “Now say ‘Nice to meet you’!”	
“It is…” Violet’s eyes were peerless, staring directly at Miss Doo with precision and in a manner that was kind of scary. Violet swallowed, and held out her hoof. “It is wonderful to finally meet you, Ditzy Doo. Sonny has told me much about you, and I can only hope that we can be friends. Why he hasn’t told you about me, I can only guess.”
“It’s more fun! I wanted to give you your own chance at a first impression.”
“You are an idiot.”
“Don’t be nervous, Vi!”
Miss Doo’s eyes crossed, and she took Violet’s hoof. “Um. Hi? I’m… I’m Ditzy Doo?” The confusion in her voice may have been hidden from her hosts.
“Ditzy Doo, I’m terribly sorry,” her firm, but soft voice continued. “Sonny should have warned you about me. I can be very… forward. He is very fond of you, and there is nothing I want more than to… to…”
“Impress you!” Sonny piped.
“Shut up. I mean, sorry, yes.” Her face tensed its brow uncomfortably on Miss Doo as she continued. “You see, I… it’s… well, this is all very new to me, and… ugh.” She scowled, and put a hoof to her temples. “Forgive me.”
“Okay, settle down Violet, that’s enough.” Sonny put his foreleg over her shoulder. Despite her impressive wingspan, she was not very tall. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were so nervous.”
“Don’t talk to me.”
“Aww… Okay but, Ditzy Doo,” he returned to topic. “Violet and I are getting married, see?” Sonny spread his left wing near to Violet’s, revealing that they wore a matching pair of modest jeweled bands that for some reason the scribe nor Miss Doo had ever taken note of before. “When you came back into town I told her all about how we used to be friends! I told her all of the weird stuff that happened between you and me in the past, too. But seeing you again wasn’t as weird as I thought it was going to be! As it turned out, the more and more we talked the more I realized that all those unwanted feelings I had for you were gone! Violet is absolutely the love of my life! Isn’t that right, my nightingale?”
“I am going to eviscerate you.”
“And you and I were the best of friends, Doo!” continued the unencumbered Sonny. “And on the day Violet and I move forward into the rest of our lives, I want you to be there, too. So I invited you to dinner so we could all meet and hit it off and be best friends. The cunning Sonny Weathers strikes again!”
Violet Covers tried not to look menacing. “What my cannon fodder fiancé means, Ditzy, is that he’s brought us all here to clear the air.” Bowing her head apologetically, she looked like a princess. “If it’s what Sonny wants then I, too, would like you to attend our wedding. I hope that we can get along.”
Perhaps they all could.
The conversation held this gap, the one following the sentiments of Violet Covers. Miss Doo must have been very interested in them. For those that knew her as well as the scribe could answer the riddle of where her mismatched eyes were looking. The truth is, that of the two, one was pointed at the betrothed pair while the other was hanging low to the table. Drawn like bees to words on a page. She must have seen the glow, but instead was affixed on words that had since grown stale from their moment in the present. “My fiancée, Violet Covers”. Her eyes were void of substance, and of focus. Indeed. There was something strange about Ditzy Doo. Her throat was welling like she was about to swallow, but it got stuck. As if she was being choked.
Which was odd. 

Continue to bake for upwards of four hours 


“I…!” Ditzy Doo’s voice shot across the table. “I think I have to go!”
“Ha…? Really?” Sonny Weathers chuckled nervously. “Is something wrong, Ditzy?”
“No, nothing’s wrong! I-I-I think I definitely left the oven on!” Miss Doo stood from her chair, so abruptly and clumsily that it fell backwards to the floor with a loud crash. “I… I was making muffins before, and…! And…” With a sloppy pair of hooves, she stumbled to the table to retrieve her pages, shoving them quickly into her saddlebags. A bunch of them fluttered the floor. “And I guess I left the oven on! It’s no big deal, I’ll take care of it!”
“Oh, um…” Sonny turned a nervous glare to his special somepony. Violet was holding a frowning scowl to the corner of the room. “Hey, I’ll come with you! It’s no worry, we can still—“
“DON’T COME WITH ME. I mean…! It’s fine, really, just a little mistake, I just don’t want to burn my apartment down or anything completely stupid like that!” Miss Doo wasn’t looking at anypony. Objects fluttering to the floor and exits that she turned to were all her eyes saw. “So I’ll see you guys again sometime soon, okay? I’ll see you, goodbye!”
She almost galloped out of the restaurant. When she pulled the door open, harsh winds from the storm blew all around the room. They stirred up a fair few napkins, overturned a chair and a tablecloth, put out more than a few candles, and chased the pages she’d forgotten out the door with the fleeing pegasus. Miss Doo looked back for a single, subtle moment. Escaping down the sidewalk, she was completely aware of the disarray that she had left blankly standing there.




Wow, the rain had intensified. Miss Doo galloped down one street, then turned a corner, then continued down another street and another corner until she had gotten sufficiently far enough away to warrant taking a break. The scribe’s pages, on the other hoof, were stacked on top of each other such that the unwritten ones were on top, to protect the others from getting rained on. They joined Miss Doo beneath a particularly wide overhang, settling beside her as she panted for air.
“What the heck? What? What!?” She rustled through the pages, spreading them all out across the dusty pavement. Her eyes scanned them all, jumping sporadically from page to page. “Where is it?” she asked. “Where is it!?” she hissed. “Here!” A hoof dropped on “upwards of four hours”. “I can’t believe it! How could I have been so stupid!?” She sifted through more. “When did I even…!?” She found what she was looking for. Her eyes prattled around the pages, still struggling to keep up with words. “It… what was I even making? Why would I start making muffins before going out!? Ugh!” 
Pages fluttered again as she slammed them to her forehead, grunting angrily at herself. “How stupid can you get, Ditzy Doo!? Whatever, I have to hurry and get home before my stupid apartment burns down and my life turns into any more of a disaster!” A scowl most unbefitting stained her face. Paper crumpled in her hooves as she tensed them. “I’ll get struck by lightning or something stupid like that if I try to fly…” She looked left. Then, she looked right.
“Ugh!” she groaned, taking a gallop down the street to her right. Water kicked up from the puddles she splashed through, unimpeded by what was currently her emergency. She stopped at a corner, and looked both ways again. The gray and shining streets were mostly empty. Weather like this was uncommon in Canterlot, where the the sky was aptly monitored, but a single storm like this a year was not unprecedented. Nopony would risk coming out at a time like this. “Which way is it!?” she growled. It seemed that she had lost her way. She hustled down another road, scribe attempting to hide beneath her wings or its own paper umbrella. No luck. Still lost. She backtracked a few stops. “For crying out loud…! I’m a mail carrier!” The anger in her voice was rising, transforming into something furious. “I should know where the stupid streets go!!” She took another road and saw something.
She was back where she started.
Down the road, in her panic to find the way to Drury Lane, her feverish glances took a moment too long to settle on the restaurant she had only recently escaped from. Her mouth twisted, first to a frown before the toothy scowl returned. “Anywhere’s better than here…” she muttered before turning around. A growl in her throat stirred.
Just then, some magical event of massive proportions occurred far outside of town. Lightning struck. Canterlot’s local Leylines became contorted and violently confounded. The rain and weather flickered on and off, as did the lightning in the sky, the streetlights, and Miss Doo’s increasingly irritated face. Water in shallow puddles rippled for what time they had left.
Every light in Canterlot went out after that. Darkness fell like a stone beneath the waves, victim to the dire undercurrent of night. And slowly, a low rumble was heard. Not unlike the thunder up above. It sounded like stew. Murky stew left in its pot, sitting there, boiling quietly for far too long. That groan, steeping in Miss Doo’s throat, barely audible over the loud thrumming of rain, was kept aptly quiet behind quivering lips.
Aptly. Quiet. The way most pain was harbored.
Except for the scribe’s immature glow, the city of Canterlot was completely black. Despite this, Miss Doo was making headlong dives down the road. Fleeing the restaurant yet. She was flying close to the ground, mane and wings easily becoming soaked. The scribe was at its best to keep up, a bit disregarded. But keeping up would not be too difficult as—
“Oof!” 
Some structure cracked, broken in the crash. Also, some things may have rolled to the floor. They were impossible to see. Miss Doo growled again, taking a few hoofsteps back and staggering on a fallen thing. It took three tries to relocate her stance. Her dress was getting soaked, the poor thing. With barely the time to recover, she bounded off again. Only to immediately—
“OOF…!”
cross the road and hit her head on something again. Nothing fell this time, but the hard surface she’d hit was much less forgiving. She rubbed her forehead, trailing a bit of grime from the streets into her mane. She shook it off. Well, no, most of the grime was still there. But she shook, a little, in an attempt to shake. Something off.
There she goes again. The scribe made its way after her.
“Gotta get home…” she whispered through the gales. “Gotta… oven, it…” The murmur trailed off. So did her haste; the scribe nearly passed her as she slowed down in the road. Maybe she had been in the road, it was impossible to tell. “The power’s out,” she said, voice dry and tasteless. “The oven’s… probably off now.”
In the rain, Miss Doo’s bangs were probably hanging quite far over her eyes. Her fur was so wet it was slick now. What had been a warm and lovely dress was now mopped with sogging water. And what had been glimmering with promise, hope, and optimism were now very, very warm. Her entire face was warm, closing and twisting all over itself as her shoulders hung low.
“Come on, Ditzy Doo…” she whimpered to herself. She slammed a determined hoof to the ground, softly so water didn’t splash much. “You can do this. You can still get home!” With visible effort, she came shakily to her hooves and began wading through puddles. Little bits of progress at a time. “Stay positive!“
She took a deep breath, which was difficult with water constantly flowing over her mouth. Carefully, she felt her way down her path. It was too dark to see, and also water was weighing her mane and eyelashes over her eyes. She tried many different directions. Left, right, further this way and that; with a wall, she could begin to find a place to rest and try to re-locate where she was. Or, better yet, find a way out of the rain.
And then she tripped again.
“WHAT!?”
Like an earthquake, with a jagged and reckless resolve, she stood back up in anger.
“What did I trip on!!?” she yelled, turning around to look at the ground. “What!?” as her bangs dropped lower. “Where is it, what could it POSSIBLY have been!?” She pawed at the space she’d been walking in, sliding her hooves along the ground to find her culprit. “I was JUST here! There was nothing!” she continued. “So what was it!?” She kept searching, wandering around in the dark. “There HAS to be something!” Her hooves stomped on pavement now, dirty water caking her clothes. “Come ON! There’s not NOTHING!” she rocked, swaying in the dark like a detached pendulum. “There’s not!” Her hopping slowed, her breath quickened. “There’s not…!” Weary, her neck declined until water ran from her shoulders to her drooping ears. “There’s…”
She stopped, her power lost. Even the dull light of the scribe began to wane.
“Tch…” she scoffed, mouth caught heavily between emotions. “Only Ditzy Doo could be so stupid that she trips on nothing… I’m just bad at everything, aren’t I?” She wiped her face, warm tears quickly cooling in this weather. Her shoulders trembled, and so did her words as she asked little questions to herself. “I just get really lucky, huh? What if the power didn’t go out? What if somepony else saw me open those packages? What if I lose my job—what if I had accidentally hit Rarity??” With shaking hooves, she fruitlessly tried to smooth her dress and pull her mane, all without moving her crooked, empty eyes. “What if… what if I’d said something back there…?”
Chances are, there were at least a few stray feathers and hairs floating in the waters surrounding her. She was absolutely still in this world of pure blackness. The sky was dark as ink, still as night, and mercilessly waiting.
“I can’t do this,” she cried.
Rain was falling very hard. Without the sky, there was no way to know for how much longer. There was no way to know if Drury Lane was just a block away, or miles. Perhaps if she felt around a little more, she could find shelter without tripping this time. Maybe this time she could get dry, gather her bearings and find a way back home. If she tried really hard, maybe took the schedule with her this time and made a little reminder every day, she wouldn’t be fired. Maybe she could do… some other things, too. Maybe things would be different this time.
“I’m so tired!” came her wailing in the dark. “I’m SO tired! Of being so optimistic! ‘Oh, just keep your chin up, Ditzy Doo! Keep on trying!’ Well, you know what!? Forget it! I give up, I’m too stupid and dumb to figure this out! I can’t do this, I just CAN’T do it! I’m too stupid to have a full time job, I’m too stupid to pay rent and apparently I’m too stupid to notice an engagement band, too!? And! And I guess I’m just so FUNNY and stupid! That I can trip. On. NOTHING!”
A drop of liquid fell onto the scribe’s pages. Salty. Another fell, dark and drawn from her wounded nose. Bitter.
"And you..!" she shouted, snapping to the scribe's glow in the abyss. “You KNEW! You knew I left the oven on! You knew about Sonny’s wedding band and you DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING! I’ve read you a bunch of times! What, did you think I never did!? Did you think I just glanced over all the ‘it better be enough’ and the snide little comments and the ‘maybe she woulda been smarter if she remembered her package this time’ and all those little things and didn’t get hurt!? I’m not that stupid! I’m not…” She let out a sigh, and curled up on the ground again. Her voice was trembling. She continued with reverence. “I’m sorry…” she said, hugging herself best she could. “It’s not your fault I’m stupid, it’s my fault. Just like it always is..."
Her head turned up. And with a fluttering sigh, she lay right down in the cold and torrential rain. Clenching eyes relaxed. She was drifting to sleep, her poor heart too exhausted. Defeated.
“I wish I was stupider," she said. "I wish I was so stupid that I didn’t realize how stupid I was. Then maybe I could be happy.”
She fell asleep. In the rain, and in the dark, and all alone, she fell asleep.




But it wasn’t night forever.
Miss Doo’s eyes opened slowly, but she quickly rose to her hooves with a start when she realized that she’d been laying in the middle of the sidewalk. She put a hoof to her chest. Her fast-beating heart must have been aching.
A slow self-examination with her reddened eyes revealed a few things. Canterlot was bright, but this morning wasn’t too intense. Clumsily, she pulled her dress off over her head, and gave her mane a quick shake to dry off.
“Oh,” she said, looking the sagging thing over. It had not fared well. The fabric had become too heavy last night, and stretched itself out. Not to mention the flower patterns were soaked, both eroded and faded. Miss Doo looked it over, inside and out. There were small rips in the wing holes from violent activity. “Dang,” she sighed. “Oh well! I guess I probably don’t really need it for anything, anyway.”
She looked to her fallen saddlebag, scribe barely poking out of it. Fortunate that it had found shelter. “I’m sorry I was so mad last night,” she said to it. “I’m just… coming to terms with how my life’s gonna go, I guess.” She put a hoof to her chin. “I… definitely can’t go back to work, is the thing. Guess that… hm… I’ll ask my mom to help me with the last rent payment, and then I’ll go back home to Cloudsdale. A couple of weeks at the weather plant, and I could probably pay her back. Sigh.” She took a moment, laying back onto her haunches and looking up at the clear sky. “Oh. I know where this is. Nice.”
From that sky, a letter came tumbling down. It presented itself to Miss Doo and leafed open its seal to hey that’s one of the scribe’s pages. It hastily joined the rest of the enchanted papers, adding to its neat stack. Though, it already had writing on it. Writing that was now stuck in the narrative.


She would be glad to see you attend



Despite the above intrusive text, it made a fine new page.
Also enclosed in the letter was another piece of parchment, one to which Miss Doo held a glance somewhere between bewilderment and confusion. Its contents were transcribed below:

Benevolent Ball, Guest
Time: First Day of Summer
Place: Magmia
On Behalf of: The Great and Powerful Trixie, the Evening’s Entertainment


Ha. Leave it to Ditzy Doo to be invited to the same party twice.