A harried day followed Twilight’s impromptu nap at her desk and now Twilight was showing signs of strain while she ate a hayburger loaded down with extra-extra-extra fried pickles and kumquat chutney, a taste sensation picked up from none other than Pinkie Pie. This was Twilight’s seventh such burger, and Spike had no doubt that she would eat the remaining five before there was even a hint of cold upon them.

“Fried Pickle-Burger Kumquat!” as Pinkie Pie was fond of saying.

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Mindful of his hard claws scraping or tapping against the floor, Spike crept through Twilight’s study with nary a sound made. Twilight had fallen asleep at her desk—again—and as her most trusted assistant, it was his duty to check on her. Her face was smudged with ink and the corners of her mouth were crusted over with what appeared to be peanut butter. Probably peanut butter. Twilight had whole lectures prepared about the effectiveness of peanut butter as a provider of quick, efficient

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