24. Evaluations, Stations, and Recommendations - Part Five
Author’s note: There has been a bit of confusion as to what is going on in the story, and since the chapters come out so infrequently, I wanted to reduce the confusion by offering a quick summary. There are three primary locations for the action in the next two chapters: The Wedding, The Coffee Shop Table, and The Kitchen of same. Each of these locations contains one small but very powerful alicorn named Monster. All three scenes are taking place at the same time. This is not a typo, or a logical oversight by the author, or even the fault of Changelings. It is, however, very difficult to understand with a few weeks between updates, hence, the note. If you really want to know what is going on before hitting the end of the chapter after this, I am including a spoiler below:
Monster has split herself into three parts. This is not healthy for her. She has not thought this action through.
Thank you. We now rejoin our program, already in progress...
Letters From a Little Princess Monster
Evaluations, Stations, and Recommendations - Part Five
Inside the bustling coffee shop where quite a few of the elderly ponies had retreated to be away from the sun, three relatively younger ponies scratched away on their respective paperwork. The evening sun shone in the open window, bringing with it the happy sounds of a village preparing for a wedding outside, as well as a number of birds warming up for the music that would accompany the celebration. Inside the shop, it was relatively silent except for the scratching of three quills until Green Grass held up an evaluation and announced, “Twilight’s birth date is wrong.”
“Do I lose points?” asked Monster, slumping down to just barely above the table.
“No. You just wrote down that you’re a month younger than Trixie. Fix it and check the rest of your information while I work on somepony else’s test.” Green Grass hoofed the form over to her while digging out another student evaluation, which he hummed softly while working his way along.
Eventually Trixie said, “What’s so bad about your bride this time?” At Green Grass’ silence, she added, “You’re humming a funeral dirge.”
His humming abruptly cut off. “She’s a wonderful mare,” he said after a moment.
“Sure she is,” said Trixie. “So wonderful that you proposed to Princess Luna.”
“And what is wrong with that?” asked Green Grass, bending over his paper with intent concentration. “It’s an arranged marriage. If I happen to marry a more-qualified mare first, my mother and father will just have to deal with it.”
“Horseapples. You proposed to her so your blushing bride would think you’re crazy and call off the wedding.” The tip of one ear flicked as if he had been bitten by an insect, but other than that, Green Grass gave no signal that he had even heard Trixie. “You didn’t expect her to take you seriously, did you?”
This time both ears laid down flat and Green Grass bent over his student evaluation with a vengeance. Trixie grinned and leaned closer, putting her mouth right up to his ear and lifting it up with her magic before whispering, “Prince Consort Green Grass.”
“Ewww!!” Green Grass bumped the table as he jumped up and scratched vigorously at his ear, ignoring the laughing from Trixie as she sprawled out across the table in a wheezing fit that nearly knocked over her coffee cup.
Monster watched him with her head just barely above the table surface until he sat back down, picking up the student evaluation and glaring at her. “So. Aren’t you going to laugh at me too?”
“No.” She raised up just a little to look at Green Grass as he worked on erasing the long streak of red he had smeared across the evaluation. “Do you think she’s ugly?”
“Luna?” He sat down his red pencil and looked over his shoulder to make sure the door to the office downstairs was still closed. Lowering his voice, he continued, “You can keep a secret, right? She’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen in my life. She’s brilliant, powerful, witty, and so alone. I’ve never met anypony like her, wings, horn or not. When I met her, the words just kind of slipped out.”
His eyes never left her face while talking, but there was something he was still hiding. “Celestia too?”
Ignoring Trixie’s sudden gasp and outbreak of chuckles, Green Grass nodded. “With her, I’m afraid I was just desperate, and desperate ponies can do stupid things. You see, my father and I had just come from the wedding rehearsal last night, and I was still suffering from butterfly overdose.” Pushed by Monster’s inquisitive look, he added. “Lady Swamp Flower talks about butterflies. A lot.” Still squirming under her determined glare, he finally turned back to grading the evaluation and blurted out, “All she talks about is butterflies, how they look, how they feel, what they eat, how they breed, butterflies, butterflies, butterflies. She must have a few thousand of them in her house in display cases and mounted on the walls.” He shuddered. “They’re even in all of the bathrooms in these creepy lifelike poses on top of artificial flowers. If that’s not bad enough, she wears these little glittery things in her eyelashes like butterfly wings and puts these little fluffy things in her mane like butterfly antennae, she drinks nectar, not water, and I think she dreams of someday becoming a butterfly. It was driving me crazy after just one day; in a week, I’d be back in the hospital!”
Trixie managed to stop laughing for a moment and spoke up. “You’re so cute when you’re frustrated, Greenie. You know…” Trixie put a hoof on the evaluation he was working on and held it to the table, making him look up. “If you were to excuse yourself on a bathroom break, you could be out of town along the north-west road before anypony knew you were gone, and in Milo or Wheaton by nightfall. It probably wouldn’t hide you from Princess Luna, but your father would never find you. I’ll bet there’s a dozen towns after that who would take you in as hired labor, wagon or no wagon.”
“Earth pony towns. I wouldn’t be teaching unicorn magic.” The tutor resumed his progress down the page, slashing with such intensity that he had to be looking at Snips or Snails evaluation, but as he turned the page, he added, “And I promised to finish this.”
The paper abruptly glowed pink and flashed away from his hooves, as well as the rest of his evaluations which stacked themselves to Trixie’s side. “I’ll finish ‘em. Problem solved. Now scoot.”
With forelegs crossed, Green Grass glared instead of leaving. “No. You’re acting just like my parents. You’re not letting me make my own decisions.”
“What do you want to do?” asked Monster, peeking out just over the top of the table.
“I…” Green Grass scowled and reached out for the student evaluations, sitting back down with a thump as Trixie levitated them up to the ceiling out of his reach. It was still more than a little puzzling to Monster why he didn’t use his magic for anything, including grabbing the evaluations away from Trixie. She had a strong talent, but not quite as powerful as many other unicorns; her real talent lay in the ability to do fantastic things with her magic that nopony else had even thought about. “It doesn’t matter anyway,” he growled. “I promised to do what my parents told me until I was married. It was part of our agreement.”
“If you could do anything you wanted,” started Monster, lifting her head up above the table. “Anything at all. Anything. What would you do?” The low thread of pain she had seen deep in the tutor’s eyes since the moment they met seemed to fade into insignificance as he opened his mouth to snap out an angry comeback, but he kept looking at her until he laid his head down on the table and shoved his hat forward over his eyes.
“I wanted to visit northernmost Equestria and get the last interviews I need to finish my Master’s degree in history. There were some inconsistencies that the reviewing board brought up about my thesis that I need to get resolved before they’ll let it go through, and there is a Griffon aerie up there that should have the records to resolve the issues. If I had my Master’s degree, I could teach unicorn magic anywhere in Equestria, instead of just rotating through the little towns around here a few months at a time.”
He poked his hat back fractionally to reveal his soft blue eyes and looked at Monster. “That’s a very deep question for such a young unicorn, and I think it’s only appropriate for me to respond in kind. What would you do if you could do anything you wanted?”
Monster looked away and shuffled a few forms around. “Stay here with mom and my friends. And my sister.”
“And?”
She rolled one blank form up into a cone and batted it around for a moment before using her magic to fold it into a hat just like Green Grass was wearing. With a gentle magical push, she floated her new hat up and stuck it over her horn. “I want to get better, but everything scares me.”
The tutor made a noncommittal sound and looked at Trixie. “So what about you? Last I heard, you were at the top of the heap as Celestia’s private student, and now you’re in dull old Ponyville. Certainly this isn’t where you wanted to be.”
Raising an eyebrow, Trixie asked, “Dull? Where in Equestria have you been for the last few months?”
“Broadhoof Memorial Psychiatric Hospital,” he replied in a perfectly flat tone, looking out the window to where the wedding reception was taking place.
~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~
Out in the bright afternoon sunlight with the happy ponies gathered around for the wedding reception, Monster felt a lot like she was back in the forest. It was all legs in all directions, a veritable flood of hooves, knees and the occasional low-slung tummy, and when she looked up, it felt a lot like all of the ponies in her immediate vicinity had huge nostrils, some of the contents of which she really did not want to see. She tucked her wings tighter under her cloak and bit off a exclamation of surprise when a large adult hoof nearly stepped on her, taking the much safer location of standing between Tallgrass and mom.
It felt bizarre to meet other friendly ponies in a long series of smiling colorful faces, all of which were more than willing to shake hooves or even ruffle her curly mane. The fear that should have paralyzed her hooves to the ground was missing, giving her a strange elated feeling of near floating as she remained standing between mom and Tallgrass as the ‘guests’ passed by. Introductions filled her mind, a long string of names and occupations, some of which were from ponies out of town and just visiting, but all happy.
It was weird, but nice.
It was also overwhelming.
Even between her two parents, one short young pony in the middle of a bunch of large adult ponies had to make a lot of quick motions to avoid being stepped on. That many ponies introducing themselves to Monster when she had not even known more than a few little fillies (and one colt) a few months ago made her itch for a quill and notecards. The quill was easy, now that she was carrying two full wings of fairly small ones, and it only took a moment to pluck one out and sharpen it with her magic before she stopped with a scowl, trying to figure out how to juggle notes, quill, ink, and still meet the other ponies that her parents wanted her to meet.
“Smile!”
The brilliant flash of Featherweight’s camera surged through her in a climax for her growing frustration. There had been a moment when she thought the solution for her frustrating problems was just almost at hoof before his annoying distraction, and she turned to express her negative opinion just in time to catch another brilliant flash right to the face that blinded her to the surrounding maze of legs.
So when she lunged forward to make a more physical demonstration of her displeasure, she bounced off Zecora’s knee, rebounded off Tallgrass’ chest, and tumbled into a parental pile with a sweet-smelling filly jumping in afterwards, and joined almost immediately by Featherweight as he dove into the growing ponypile with a happy shout that turned into a yelp of pain.
~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~
A certain sense of inherent order filled the coffee shop kitchen, in that it was a place where coffee was meant to be cooked, and that natural order within the coffee creation process had helped their assembly of the cooking machine once Monster and the rest of the students realized that there were several machines worth of parts in the scattered boxes. It took far less time than she expected to get all of the parts for the first machine sorted out, but assembly had taken far longer. There were little scorch marks against the solid wood wall and more than a few scuffs where parts had been assembled, then removed and bent to fit, and then removed and bent again to go where they really needed to have gone in the first place. Most of the credit went to her new friends, who were more than eager to help with all of the pipes and fittings of the complicated machine, and perhaps some of the negative credit too, as certain parts became too bent or twisted to fit places where they belonged.
Everypony helped, or at least pointed and made suggestions if their contributions could be considered more anti-help, and they had only needed to reconstruct the boiler twice when Sweetie Belle kept turning on the switch before all of the connections could be double-checked.
Once all of the little boxes on the checklist had been checked, and ‘Make Sweetie Belle Stand Outside Before Activating’ had been added to the list, Monster tugged on a piece of string tied to the switch with her barrier spell ready just in case. Even though Scootaloo suggested they should have one of them play Igor to do the actual switch-flipping, the idea was firmly voted down by nearly everypony for lack of a fierce lightning storm to provide background sound effects as well as a lack of a hunch for her back.
This way was not really very dramatic. But it was safer.
While the first machine gurgled and perked like it was supposed to in a rather boring and predictable way, Monster doodled some improvements on the coffee machine plans and sipped on her lukewarm drink. It was from a box of bottles in the kitchen, which had drawn Monster’s immediate attention due to the large and shiny (and trivial to bypass) lock on the top. There had been a label of ‘Adults’ in large letters across the top, and since she technically was the oldest pony there, it obviously was for her. After all, if the lock had really meant to keep her out, it would have been more difficult to open.
Sweetie Belle poked her nose into the kitchen and announced, “Is the coffee ready yet? There’s a bunch of thirsty old folks who are starting to get cranky, and they’re drinking up the stuff from Trixie’s machine as fast as Spike can heat the water.”
“Just a sec,” said Wheat Shock, taking the first filled carafe and pouring Monster a cup.
She tasted the scorching hot coffee with a long gulp, feeling the fire across her tongue and down her throat with a detached sensation. It was bitter, astringent, sour and powerful, tasting so little like the coffee Trixie made that it was nearly a different beverage. Adding a little of the other drink made it taste better, and she took a second deep gulp with a positive nod. “It’s coffee.”
“Great.” Wheat Shock floated the coffee over to Sweetie Belle and marked off one of the checkboxes on Monster’s list. “It should take three of us in rotation to cover the customers, and somepony needs to check the reception outside to see if they need any too.”
“I’ll stay,” said Monster, laying down the coffee maker plans and inking her quill. “Need another machine. Better. Have parts.”
Firelock nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, one with more steam. This one barely whistles.”
“And a spout for hot chocolate,” suggested Berry Pinch.
“And foam,” added Snips. “The kind you can make moustaches out of.”
“Let’s grab something to eat first,” suggested Snails.
“Good idea,” said Wheat Shock “We can swap jobs around so everypony gets some cake before we get back to work. Let’s go!”
~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~
Monster slumped under the paper-covered table and watched as the happy wave of small ponies swept out of the kitchen, making one quick pass through the leftover snack trays that had been set out for the evaluation in search for anything sugar-related before heading out the door like some sort of horizontal avalanche. Although the concept of staying indoors and helping fill out paperwork sounded perfectly fine to Monster, her friends all seemed determined to scatter to the four winds, shouting something about meeting her in an hour or two to finish building their coffee project. She eased back up above the table once her friends had left, keeping her eyes on the studious tutor while balancing her paper hat on her head and waiting patiently. He was holding back something, and she had more than enough patience to wait him out.
Eventually he gave a guilty glance back at Trixie and Monster, continuing his story in a low tone of voice as not to be overheard by nearby tables. “I was released from Broadhoof a few weeks ago on my father’s word that I would behave myself. It seems there was a sudden influx of traumatized changelings, plus a very trendy mental illness called Nightmare Moon Syndrome that cropped up recently, and they needed the beds.”
He paused to finish off his coffee and extended the empty cup to Monster. “May I have some more coffee, please? At the hospital, they started sticking medication in everything when they found out I was skipping my pills. Made the food taste like cardboard and the coffee taste like—”
He cut off abruptly and took a sip of bitter coffee, relaxing with a smile that actually looked authentic for the first time since they met. Monster floated her remaining daisy sandwich in front of him and said, “You can have mine. No pills. Just parsley. You can pick that off.”
“Thank you, Twilight.” He took a bite of the sandwich and washed it down with coffee, taking his time as he ate until every crumb was gone. She was getting better at reading his concealed emotions, and rather than lose interest or change the subject as he seemed to want, she continued her questions.
“Why did you have to go to the hospital?” asked Monster, the rolled-up form on her head fluttering to the table as she stopped concentrating on it. “Were you hurt?” She watched a thoughtful expression grow on his face that reminded her so much of mom trying to convince her to take bitter medicine and added, “Don’t lie.”
“It’s a painful truth for a little filly,” he said. “And I’m not going to inflict it on you. A lie is better.”
“Lies hurt worse,” she replied. “Truth. All of it.” Monster sat down the papers she had been shuffling and untied her red cape, allowing it to fall onto the booth seat as she slumped down so only her horn and wings were visible over the table edge. “I’ll go first. I’m not a unicorn.”
The green pony blinked a few times, but he did not go screaming away in terror. He did exchange an incredulous look with Trixie, who simply shrugged, and a questioning look at Scootaloo, who zoomed by on her roller skates without a pause, but eventually he cleared his throat and said, “I see.”
Then after a minute of silence, “That explains a lot, actually.”
And finally, “I really need to read my new student profiles.”
Monster sat back down and started to put her cape back on, settling down in her chair with a distinct hunch to her back. “Sorry.”
“Au contraire, little sister,” said Trixie, moving up beside her and helping tie the string for her cape. “I believe Greenie has been concealing something from you too.” A pink aura formed around the magic tutor’s hat and plucked it away from his frantic grasp, revealing a somewhat round head with a short-cropped dusky mane.
But no horn.
“Did they cut your horn off at the hospital?” gasped Monster, stepping across the table full of forms to put one hoof on top of his head, as if she expected his horn to be invisible. There were no scars or any sign of an accident, and the strange feeling she had been getting from him ever since they met finally made sense. “No, you’re not a unicorn. You’re an earth pony.”
Green Grass grabbed his hat and jammed it back on his head with a firm shove while Trixie carefully lifted Monster up and put her back in the booth seat. “I would have told you earlier, Menace, if I had known he was showing up today. He used to love doing that to the teachers in college.”
“And allow me to answer your next question,” announced the young stallion with a grumble, “which is normally stated in a loud voice with more than a little outrage by the pureblood unicorn parents of one of my students.” Green Grass scrunched up his face and whined, “‘He’s just an earth pony. How can he teach magic if he doesn’t have any magic?”
He gestured at his cutie mark, a rather small outline of a unicorn horn with a few small sparks around it. “They can all kiss my cutie mark.”
Green Grass leaned back with a sour smirk that turned into surprise as Monster replied, “I wasn’t going to say that. Mom is a zebra. She taught me all kinds of magic. Anypony who says something like that is dumb.”
~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~
The dusty bandages that Twist was pulling out of Trixie’s medicine cabinet in the library seemed excessive for such a minor injury, and Monster held her forehoof up with a frown. “It’s only a sprain. Not my fault.”
Featherweight held up his own foreleg and pointed unnecessarily to the brown-streaked section of fur that surrounded a small nick, which had quit bleeding just a minute or two after they had managed to un-pile themselves out of the pony pile at the reception. “Well, if I didn’t have a loose bracket on my camera, I wouldn't have gotten this cut.” He winced while dabbing at it with an applicator of some red fluid that he had found in the medicine cabinet. “It’s partially my fault too.”
“I jutht jumped in the pile becauth everypony elth did,” said Twist, wrinkling her nose at the taste of the old bandages as she wrapped Monster’s ankle.
“Could you keep it down, girls?” said Rainbow Dash while examining Monster’s ruffled wing.
“Hey!”
“And Featherbrain there,” added Rainbow. “Nopony got seriously hurt, so let’s just get cleaned up and back to the party before they cut the pre-wedding cake. Pinkie Pie really went all-out for this one.” She looked around with a short complaint about Trixie’s bathroom and its lack of preening supplies before bending over Monster’s wing and sticking her nose right into the feathers.
“It’th just a—” pthooy “—couple of bent secondaries, Twilight. Sheesh, don’t you ever preen these bad girls?”
“I don’t know how.” She lifted a wing and looked at the ruffled multicolored feathers before giving them a lick. “Ick. They taste terrible.”
“You don’t lick them, kid. You just… Well, you get your teeth in there and…” Rainbow Dash paused with an iridescent feather in her mouth. “You just preen. It’s natural. Didn’t your mom ever teach you how to preen?”
Featherweight’s wrinkled his face up in a grimace. “Twilight’s mom is a zebra. Don’t worry, Twilight. I can show you how to preen.”
“Whoa there, kid.” One blue wing scooped Featherweight up like a… well, a feather, and tucked him next to Rainbow Dash where he was subjected to a rather intense glare at close range. “What did I tell you about preening when you and Scootaloo started running around together?”
“Not to?”
One blue hoof tapped him gently on the nose while Rainbow subjected the little colt to more intense scrutiny. “Or?”
“Or I’d find out if the Tooth Flutterpony has a bulk purchase plan?” Featherweight grinned, and even though there was a lot of nervous tension in his smile, it still made Monster feel better.
“Good,” declared Rainbow Dash, turning back to her work. “Twilight, you need to find some female pegasus to — mumphth — teach you how to preen. I’d volunteer Fluttershy, but — ptooey — she vanished this afternoon like some — umph — ninja. She’s a great preener.”
“Does preening have anything to do with sex?” asked Monster, fascinated with the abrupt response the question triggered in her friend. Both wings fairly exploded into full extension, her pupils shrank to pinpoints, and Rainbow Dash began to stammer as she tried to change the subject.
“N-no! Of course n-not. It’s like… baths. Yeah, that’s it.”
Monster cocked her head to one side and considered asking if Rainbow thought she was going to have sex with Featherweight just because he would bite her wings. It seemed like a silly question because the little colt probably was not even sexually mature yet according to the chart in The Physiology and Development of Pegasi by T. Bog, but it did bring up a different question that sounded more logical.
“Do you think I should have Green Grass teach me?”
“No!” Rainbow Dash had just managed to get her wings under control, and now they popped back up again as she grabbed Monster’s face with both forehooves and looked her right in the eyes. “You should never let an adult male pony touch your wings, Twilight.”
“Oh. But he’s preening Princess Luna now; is that wrong?”
“Greenie?” Rainbow Dash looked up in shock, the red stump of a cracked feather still stuck in her teeth. “Equestria’s geekiest geek is preening a princess? No way.”
“Yeth, Mith Dash,” said Twist, paying her full attention to wrapping Monster’s swollen ankle. “They’re over at the coffee houth in the offith now.” She looked up at the sudden breeze. “Mith Dash?”
“Hey!” Featherweight looked around. “Where did my camera go?”
* * *
The breeze from the coffee house window had been fairly gentle this afternoon, but the arrival of Ponyville’s most famous weather pony at nearly top speed sent every paper on the teacher’s impromptu writing desk flying all over the room. Holding a camera in the crook of one leg, Rainbow Dash grabbed Trixie by a shoulder and panted out, “Green. Grass. Preening. Princess?”
“Green. Grass. Sitting. Here,” muttered Green Grass as he grabbed for a few loose sheets of paper that had not made their escape in the brief hurricane that accompanied Rainbow’s entrance. “Do you think you could — Oh. Thank you, Twilight.” The burst of papers that had exploded out into the room reversed their paths with a purple glow, floating back in the direction of the table with little shuffling noises as Monster ran through the sorting spell Wheat Shock had taught her last night. Neat stacks of evaluations and government forms segregated themselves out to the front of their respective responsible pony, an overturned inkwell soaked up the puddle it made while returning to a fully upright position, and a coffee carafe wrapped in Twilight’s magic topped off all three coffee cups.
“Coffee?” asked Monster, moving an empty cup and the coffee pot in Rainbow’s direction.
“How did… Weren’t you in the…” Rainbow Dash fumbled with her camera before turning on Trixie. “How did she do that? What have you been teaching her?”
“A good magician never reveals her secrets,” said a familiar voice from behind Rainbow Dash, and the weather pony gaped in shock as Trixie came trotting up the stairs.
It took a few looks back and forth between the Trixie sitting behind the table and the Trixie on the staircase before Rainbow scowled. “Oh, I get it. This is just another one of your pranks, and you got Peep Sprout to sit in for Twilight here. Good one, Trixie. Nice work, Peeps.” Rainbow Dash ruffled the little alicorn’s mane and winked at Trixie. “I’ll get you back good for this one. Well, gotta fly.”
There was a second burst of air as Rainbow Dash zipped away in the direction of the library, only this time Monster was ready, and not even a single piece of paper escaped into the sudden hurricane.
“Very nice, Flower,” said the Trixie on the stairs before flaring with changeling magic and transforming back into a male zebra. “Zecora just wanted me to check to see how your ankle is feeling.”
Monster picked up one forehoof and rotated it several times before setting it back down on the stack of papers. “Little stiff. Lots of paper.”
“Good, good.” The disguised changeling looked around the coffee shop and took the cup that Monster passed him, taking a sip before continuing, “Her Majesty has already left, I presume?”
“She’s sleeping,” said Monster. “Coffee good?”
“Fairly, I suppose. Thank you.” The experience that Tallgrass had with his earth pony disguise was obvious as he manipulated cup, spoon, sugar cubes and saucer in several smooth motions, only slowing when he took another sip of the sweetened contents. “You don’t suppose she would… No, it’s a silly idea. She’s much too busy.”
“You want her to marry you and mom?”
“Um…” The changeling paused with a faint tremble to his cup, obviously thinking of his last close encounter with Nightmare Moon. “Your mother does. She said with her expression that it was a natural progression of the chaotic way that things were going today.”
“Your meter is off.”
“I know.” Tallgrass frowned while finishing off his coffee, sitting the empty cup down with a faint thump on the paper-covered table.
“You’re afraid of Luna.” Monster nearly ducked all the way under the table as Tallgrass turned to look at her, leaving only a multicolored horn and her violet eyes visible. “Are you afraid of me too? Don’t lie,” she added as Tallgrass opened his mouth.
“It can be just fine to be afraid, Twilight,” said Green Grass, putting down his papers for a moment. “Fear is normal. We fear that which we don’t understand. Sometimes we fear that which we do understand, but that fear can cause us to make very bad decisions if we are not careful. We need to face our fears.”
“Even the butterfly ones?” Monster lowered herself another fraction as Green Grass flinched.
“Particularly the butterfly ones,” said Trixie, casting a compassionate hoof around her back. “You have to think out the long-term consequences of any decision you make, Menace. Like your goofy father figure there. What do you think will happen if Princess Luna doesn’t marry your weird parents?”
“Well.” Monster blinked, looking between the two dissimilar stallions. “She’ll be sad that we don’t trust her, but she’ll hide it, just like she was hiding how bad she felt when she showed up this morning. She’s really good about hiding how bad she feels. That’s why she became Nightmare Moon.” Monster patted Green Grass on the hoof. “Thank you for being brave enough to preen her this morning so she feels better. Sometimes we all just need somepony to care about us, I guess.”
“Trust is the building block of nations,” said Green Grass, “as well as ponies. If you trust her enough to be friends with your adoptive daughter, and enough to be your Princess, you should trust her enough to bless your wedding.”
Tallgrass considered for a while before blowing out his breath in a long wheeze. “I suppose. Can you ask her when she gets up, Flower?”
Monster cringed back down so only her horn was visible above the table. “I suppose. I have another idea for the wedding, but I don’t think you will like it.”
~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~
The bushes outside the Ponyville Golden Oak Library rustled with the sound of thrashing ponies, nearly drowning out the sound of Rainbow Dash calling, “Featherweight? Twilight? Twist? Where are you?”
“Down here, Rainbow Dath!” Twist had just managed to pull Featherweight out of the bush and stuck her head back in to grab onto her other friend when the colorful pegasus dropped down beside her.
“Cutie Mark Crusader Bush Flatteners?” she hazarded.
“Ow!” Featherweight pulled a thorn out of his foreleg and spit it to one side. “We went flying off to follow you, and something went wrong.”
“I’m sorry,” drifted out of the rose bush.
With a titanic heave, Twist pulled Monster out of the bush in an explosion of leaves and the inevitable tree sap. “Twilight followed you, Featherweight,” she added, “but thee forgot to flap, so thee grabbed your tail, and I grabbed her tail, but I can’t flap and nopony grabbed my tail.”
Rainbow Dash shook her head and held out one of Twilight’s wings to full extension. “And you messed up your wings again. Let me get to work. Maybe there'll be some cake left when we’re done.”
The preening continued as Featherweight finished getting the last thorns out, making only a few comments before getting his camera back and taking a few pictures, but being uncharacteristically quiet during the whole process. Finally, he burst out with a question that seemed to be bothering him.
“Rainbow Dash, were you teaching Trixie how to preen so she could do Twilight’s wings?”
“Wha?!” Rainbow spluttered with a feather in her mouth as she whirled to face the little photographer, who — of course — took her photo at that exact moment. She spat the feather out and took the photograph that Featherweight hoofed over, gawking for a moment at the picture of Trixie falling out of a hole in the bottom of her cloud home with Rainbow in a power dive to catch her.
“No!” she protested, quickly shredding the picture into tiny pieces, but not before Monster had caught a glimpse of it over her shoulder.
“Were you two having sex in your house?” asked Monster.
“NO!” Both wings popped back up and Rainbow stomped at the little scraps of photograph. “We weren’t. I mean, I’ve never thought of her — My cloud does not float that way! We weren’t kissing or groping or anything!”
Monster’s eyes narrowed. “You’re lying.” She took the duplicate copy of the photograph that Featherweight hoofed over and compared it to the next three, showing Dash making a daring catch at nearly ground level, diving in the library window, and returning to her home without a passenger. “You were teaching my sister how to preen.”
“No! Really!” Rainbow grabbed the rest of the photographs and shredded them, stuffing the remains under the nearby bush and scowling as Featherweight pulled out another set.
Monster looked the photos over before walking towards Rainbow Dash, who had backed herself up in front of the thorn bush. She sat the photos down, and then lunged forward, grabbing the stammering pegasus in a crushing hug.
“Thank you, Rainbow. I can hardly wait for Trixie to teach me.”
~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~
It was almost silent in the coffee shop kitchen except for the gurgling perk of the wall-mounted coffee machine and the occasional zip of one of her roller-skate wearing friends as they dashed in to refill their containers. Several times they had asked her to see if she wanted to try delivering coffee in the same way, but after trying the skates on and proceeding to fall down with a horrible crash several times, she returned to her ink and quill. There was a subtle wrongness that she tried to ignore as she worked, as if the world disapproved of her actions, but the song of creation hummed in her mind loudly enough to block it out, and the new machine grew on the paper with every stroke and line as the level dropped in her bottle.
“This one will be just perfect,” she whispered as she drew a complicated aroma catcher. “The kid of coffee la da dee dum dee dah hm… Missing something. Ah. A schecondary boiler. That should do it.”
~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~
The little carrot sticks and sandwiches that had been provided for the student evaluations did not survive inside the coffee shop for very long after the students had left. Trixie made one epic ‘clean up’ pass through the leftovers and brought the overflowing plate back to the table to nibble on as they worked their way through the forms. She even made a little games out of the food, like ‘How many different scoops of dip will fit on one celery stick’ or ‘cherry tomato juggling with your eyes closed’ that Monster tried to play along with and failed, although with very funny consequences. It even made Green Grass giggle along when Trixie began bouncing the tiny tomatoes off his head while quizzing him on his time in the hospital over the last few months.
From his responses, apparently it was rather bad social form to grab the cake slicer in the middle of a wedding rehearsal dinner and take over the buffet line, waving the plastic blade over your head and threatening to do unspeakable things to yourself, but Green Grass excused the ‘faux pas’ as a measure taken only as a last resort after having lived through his bride-to-be’s laughter for several hours of the rehearsal and the realization he would be living with it for the rest of his life. He refused to try duplicating her laugh, other than to describe it as a cross between a peacock, a hydra, and a terminally wounded bagpipe, and when asked how he would be able to handle his upcoming butterfly-obsessed bride, he promptly changed the subject to Trixie’s activities for the last few years.
Monster was fascinated by the conversation as it progressed over the next few hours. Each of them seemed to know each other’s weaknesses just like old friends and crafted their portion of the discussion into lines of questions that would dig up facts that the other wanted to know, while the other would deflect those questions into lines that they wanted to know. It was like a battle for domination that Monster had seen in the Everfree between two males competing for a female to have sex with, only there didn’t seem to be any sex involved here at all.
On the surface, Trixie seemed at a considerable disadvantage. Monster knew she loved to talk about herself in a constant line of patter that glossed over any embarrassing details while making her look good, and Green Grass was just as reluctant to talk about himself as Trixie was happy to talk about herself. However, deep under the conversation it was a battle of pure willpower where Trixie would bore in on Greenie’s time in the hospital, and he would redirect the conversation to Trixie’s injuries from saving Princess Luna, which made her try to get him to talk about the doctors and if he might be able to persuade any of them to make a trip to Ponyville for Monster, which he then turned into a discussion about trips and what he might need to consider if he ever managed to make his trip to the northern mountains.
The little tidbits of information about both of them added up as the two adults continued to talk, the forms and evaluations ignored on the table while Monster faded into the background the same way she used to do when watching interesting things in the Everfree. She even suspected some of the elderly ponies in the immediate vicinity who were engaged in their own quiet conversations while playing cards just happened to be listening in too. Even Mister Breezy’s two sons who were installing ceiling fans in the coffee shop seemed to be taking an inordinate amount of time on a nearby fan, with ‘Big Fan’ on top of the ladder fiddling with loose wires in the device while ‘Little Fan’ was holding the stepladder.
“Pardon us. Is Princess Luna in here?” Looking down into the center section of the coffee shop, Monster felt her heart skip a beat as she waved at a charcoal-grey mare with membranous wings. Laminia was being escorted by the ‘mayer’ of Ponyville, whom Oz had described as the best customer of their ‘Distinguished Grey’ mane dye, as well as a bulky Nocturne dressed in formal purple armor who was standing back a few paces and watching every single shadow in the shop. When Laminia saw Monster, she waved back with a broad smile that seemed to fit so much better on her face than the irritated scowl she had worn when they first met.
Spreading her flawless wings, Laminia took a hesitant flap before thinking better of it, deciding instead to trot up the stairs with her bulky husband right behind her. The rest of the elderly ponies at the other tables sat down their cards and stared at the sleek dark pegasi while more than one older pegasus mare fluffed up her feathers and ran a quick comb through her mane. There was something magnetic in the way the armored Night Guard and his broad shoulders attracted the feminine eye, and quite a few elderly stallions checked their pockets for their heart medication as they watched the way Laminia’s flanks swayed back and forth while she sauntered up the stairs.
“Hail, she who rescued our Princess of the Night and returned her to us.” Laminia dropped to one knee in front of their table and spread her wings slightly, with Pumpernickel dropping to one knee with a clank of his violet armor to her side. “Blessed be your name, which shall be written in the Nocturne Books of Tradition for all future generations of our kind. May you live forever in our hearts.”
Trixie stood up and looked around with a faint blush. “Thank you very much. It really wasn’t all that much. My friends did some of the work.”
Laminia looked up. “Hail to thee also, Trixie Lulamoon.”
Trixie sat down.
The sultry golden eyes of the Nocturne mare swept slowly to one side, capturing a suddenly nervous Green Grass in their penetrating gaze. “Hail to thee, Favored of the Moon. May the colts and fillies from your mating be as numerous as the stars, and—”
“She hasn’t said yes!” squeaked Green Grass, scooting back as far as he could in his chair to get away from those sharp teeth and the vulpine smile that spread across Laminia’s face.
“They were preening,” said Monster, trying to be helpful.
Whatever Green Grass was going to say in response was cut off in a dry gurgle, much as if a sharp feather had gotten caught in his throat.
“Beg pardon, honored concubinus.” Laminia stood up and gestured out the window with one wing at the dance floor and potluck buffet line that was being set up out in the town plaza. “When the Night Guard unit responsible for Princess Luna’s protection came on duty and discovered that she had reassigned her Royal Guard unit to the—” a rather peculiar ‘stuffed’ expression passed over Laminia’s face “—substitute, they became disturbed.”
“Concerned,” rumbled Pumpernickel from behind her, still on one knee.
“Twelve full-grown Night Guards flapping around the castle like frightened chickens warrants a stronger word,” said Laminia, rolling her eyes.
“Who is substituting for Luna?” asked Monster.
* * *
A tall bureaucrat in a formal jacket escorted the petitioner through the doorway into the throne room, clearing his throat before announcing, “Mister Tutwiller of Tuttle’s Turtles has a petition for the Evening Court to be presented to the reigning Diarchy of Equestria.”
“Advance and state your case.” The pet store owner gaped a bit despite himself as he approached the Solar and Lunar thrones, each being occupied by a substitute diarch. The appearance of Princess Cadence with her hooves in a tub of water and lying a little on her side as accommodation for her enlarged tummy did not seem to phase the petitioner as much as the substitute for Luna.
Prince Blueblood sat rather uncomfortably on the throne next to his cousin, looking very much like he would have rather been elsewhere. There was a certain altitude to his tail that showed the Royal Cushion was lacking a certain dent near the rear for the comfort of stallions, along with a degree of discomfort from the ebon cloth around his neck that bore the symbol of the moon, but the pet shop owner could not take his eyes off the bright blue wig and tiara that topped the whole outfit.
* * *
“I am glad that ‘Princess’ Blueblood has risen to the occasion, although I am given to understand that he refused to wear the dress that went with the title. In any regard, His Highness suggested that we seek Her Highness in the company of her best friend.”
“She’s taking a nap,” prompted Monster, pointing downstairs. “Will you stay for mom and Tallgrass’ wedding? Luna is going to—” Monster stopped with a thoughtful frown. “What does a wedding pony do? What was yours like?”
Laminia snorted. “Ours played an Elvis Przewalski song on his guitar and gave us two free coupons for the buffet after the ceremony.”
“Did you at least get to fill out all of the paperwork?” Monster waved a hoof over the paper-clogged table with a shy smile. “It’s a lot of fun, like a giant puzzle.”
“Um…” Laminia looked over the staggering piles of paper. “We were both pretty drunk at the time. I think it was written on the back of the coupons. Their lasagna was fairly good, I think. That’s as much as I remember.”
“You mean… you’re not really married?”
“The paperwork is not really important,” rumbled Pumpernickel as he rose to his hooves. “What really matters is—” The big stallion winced as a noise like a dull bell sounded, and continued after taking in Monster’s pained expression. “Well, if you are already filling out the papers for your parents, I suppose you could fill out replacement paperwork for us.”
“You still need to be married,” said Monster. “I think I saw a guitar in the office, and Luna can sing.”
Pumpernickel shook his head. “That’s really not necessary—” The metallic noise repeated and the stallion winced again before continuing.
“Thank you, Twilight Sparkle. We will accept your offer, but I really don’t want to bother Her Highness.”
“I’ll ask.” There was only a stub of horn sticking up above the table, and Monster’s voice was muffled to near inaudibility. “Asking for mom and Tallgrass too.”
“Pull up a seat, you two, and have some coffee,” said Trixie. “Menace told me about you, but I’ll bet she left out the interesting parts. Heck, you might as well have your whole crew out there join the party instead of lurking in the shadows.”
“Thank you, Trixie Lulamoon,” rumbled Pumpernickel, “but we are all on duty. I’m sorry—” The big stallion winced as the noise like a dull bell repeated before continuing, “As I was saying, we will ask Princess Luna for permission to take some time off when she rises. Until then, the rest of the guard detachment will remain on alert—” The metallic noise repeated, and the stallion winced again. “I’ll assign two guards to her door while the rest can mingle, provided they are ready to return to work at a moment’s notice. Will that be acceptable, Hoofmaiden Laminia?”
“Excellent idea, guardstallion,” Laminia beamed at Monster, adding a wink.
“I’ll just limp downstairs and tell them.” There was a certain hesitation to his step as Pumpernickel trotted downstairs, after which Laminia promptly plunked her rump down on the bench next to Trixie and rubbed her hoof.
“I keep forgetting they wear those stupid shinguards. Good evening, Twilight Sparkle. Allow me to apologize for all stallions everywhere.” Laminia spent a few moments looking over Green Grass with an uncomfortable intensity that had him quickly picking up his student evaluations and a red pencil. Finally she looked over to Trixie while shaking her head. “I don’t see what Her Highness sees in him. Is he any good in bed?”
Monster perked up. “Do you mean sex?”
While Trixie spluttered and Green Grass tried to become invisible behind his evaluation forms, Laminia patted Monster on the head and said, “Yes, but we don’t use that word in polite company. You need to use a euphemism.”
She wrinkled up her nose in response. “A what?”
“A euphemism is a word you use when it’s impolite to use another word.”
“Oh.” Monster drooped. “You mean a lie.”
It took both Trixie and Lamina to entice Monster out of her depression after that, but they compensated by turning it into a learning experience. There was not just one euphemism for sex, there were hundreds of them, and some of them were weird. Like ‘doing the spider’ for example, which was somehow related to the number of legs involved, or simpler ones like ‘scratching her back’ or ‘draining the canal’ which just did not seem very pleasurable at all. She could easily judge how ‘dirty’ they were by the amount of blush that was showing up on Green Grass’ ears as the two mares chattered. They had hit a certain degree of pink at the beginning, but ‘drowning the snake’ reddened up both ears quite well, and ‘playing the foghorn duet’ turned him almost as red as Big Mac. There was even a number of euphemisms that directly related to social status, such as ‘polishing the crown’ or ‘promoting a peasant,’ which gave Monster another idea.
“Laminia,” she started, working through the words, “as Princess Luna’s Hoofmaiden, do you evaluate…”
While trying to figure out a word for whatever Green Grass was, Trixie’s eyes opened really wide and she blurted out, “No!” Then after a pause and a look at Lamina, “No, right?”
“No, what?” asked Laminia with a puzzled frown.
Green Grass responded without looking up, “Are you going to have sex with me for—”
The grey Nocture mare was faster than any creature Monster had seen before, managing to lunge across the table and plant a solid punch on Green Grass’ face before he could even blink. There was a slithering noise as the unconscious stallion slumped to the floor, a muffled snort from Trixie as she put both hooves over her face to keep from laughing out loud, and the skidding of roller skate wheels on floor as the coffee delivery fillies coasted to a stop to look.
~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~
“Almost finished. Need #4 pipe.” Monster squinted at the maze of pipes on the wall, then at the heavily-scribbled set of plans. With a snort of exasperation, she wadded up the plans and tossed them over her shoulder before taking another drink out of her nearly-empty cup and belching quietly.
“How long?” asked Wheat Shock, hoofing through a box labelled #4 and gauging the worth of his rapidly diminishing stockpile of metal parts.
“Oh, about…” Monster leaned back on the stepladder while Snips and Snails braced it against swaying. Holding her forehooves apart and squinting, she said, “Eighteen and a half or so, with a thingie—”
“Flange,” prompted Oz.
“Yeah, on both ends.”
“Got it. Last one.” The pipe of the respective size and length floated out of his collection, boosted by Oz’s magic up to Monster’s precarious perch, where she pinned it up against the wall and added pipe supports and braces to control any vibration. The terms ‘sympathetic vibrations’ and ‘destructive resonance’ were welcome additions to her knowledge, and Scootaloo had both described and demonstrated their definitions during the construction, testing, and reconstruction of the first machine.
“Ready for welding.” She struggled to hold the pipe steady, which was difficult as parts of it passed through sections where other pipes theoretically existed in slightly different phases. The end of the two joined pipes glowed cherry-red with Firelock’s magic, and Monster touched the ‘lead-free rosin core solder’ to the joint in precisely the same way as Plumbing and Pipes for Dummies said. There had been a number of items in the messy kitchen that had proved helpful, from the Do It Yourself Without A Fire set of instructional manuals, to the tools and supplies that made the job so much easier. Including the bottles.
There was an additional taste to the coffee that continued to tingle all the way up and down her throat to the warm spot in her belly, and she suspected that the reason the job was going so well was partially due to its assistance. And strangely enough, it made her want to sing a song that perked up from inside.
♫ All I wants is a propper cup of coffee
made in a propper cup of copper pot
I must be off my lot
But I want a propper cup of coffee in a propper copper pots ♫
Snips and Snails were hard put to control the swaying of the stepladder as Monster continued to add pipes and fittings to the growing machine, leaving behind glowing little knots of magic and copper pipes in bright shades of red and blue. It was going to be a magnificent creation, as beautiful and as perfect as the sunrise this morning, and the happy caffeinated neurons in Monster’s head made prospective plans for a grander and more powerful big sister for it. Sitting the last empty bottle of coffee liqueur off to one side, she bent a short pipe through a secondary dimension for length to reach the coffee grounds steamer, tying in a pressure gage marked only in imaginary numbers.
“Fini!” she shouted, sliding down the stepladder to grab the power switch in one hoof and slam it up into the copper busbar. Power crackled, steam whistled, and a low thrum filled the kitchen as the coffee carafe began to fill.
Instead of a boring perking noise like the first machine, it made a musical tune as bubbles flowed around glass pipes and through filters, resulting in an irresistible toe-tapping melody from multicolored steam gusting out of various tuned vents. Shiny spigots and containers had been welded on for cream and foam, and even an attachment to make hot chocolate with little floating marshmallows. All of the little students sampled that particular spout before declaring the weather a little hot for chocolate, but when winter was rolled out again, they would be first in line with a mug. Monster even tasted the coffee once it was done, declaring it to be much better than before and turning off the power to the first machine.
“Just in time,” said Snips, pushing the stepladder up against the wall. “It’s going to be dark soon, and there’s going to be fireworks!”
“Come on!” shouted Firelock, the first one out the door and followed by nearly every pony left in the kitchen. Apple Bloom hesitated at the doorway, looking back at where Monster was staring at the remaining wall space with the leftover pipes and other mechanical gadgets beginning to float out of boxes and surround her.
“Twilight?” she called, softly as not to disturb her friend. “Would you like to come and see the fireworks? I’ll sit right next to you so you’re not afraid.”
“No.” Monster’s voice was almost a whisper, barely spoken above the imaginary construct of steel and glass that filled her vision. “Make another. You go. Please. Have fun.”
Apple Bloom stayed put at the door, distracting Monster from the prospective coffee machine she was trying to visualize. Even a few waves of her hoof did not chase her away, and as the remaining pipes began to lift up into the air and piece themselves together on the wall, she could still feel the presence of her friend at the door, alone and sad-eyed.
Finally, she said, “Well. Okay. I know how much fireworks upset you. But I’m comin’ back to get you afterwards.”
The door closed with a quiet thump, only to reopen just a crack. Apple Bloom’s voice could barely be heard as she added, “Be careful, Twilight.”
And then she was gone.
~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~
Streaks of pink and gold were coloring the evening sky as Zecora and Tallgrass gathered together on the stage with a somewhat bandaged Monster tucked between them.
“I was told your injuries were not that serious, and that you would be back in plenty of time for Princess Luna to marry us,” said Zecora with a pointed glance at the bandages wrapped around both of Monster’s ankles almost all of the way up her legs.
“I’m sorry, dear,” whispered Tallgrass. “She said her ankle was only a little stiff.”
“Fell out the window,” said Monster with a sniff. “Wasn’t thinking. Can’t fly.”
Zecora gathered her child to her side with a soft nuzzle and faced her future husband. “The sun is almost set and Luna we have not yet met. Could you go inside and bring she who will make me a bride?”
“No need indeed, oh wife of my life.” Tallgrass turned in the direction of the back door of the coffee shop and the distinctive form who had just emerged into the light, dropping to one knee in a bow for the Princess of the Night.
~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~
The click that echoed around the interior of the coffee shop seemed as loud as a firework, followed promptly by the creaking and popping of aged joints as the elderly ponies got off their chairs and cushions to give proper respect to Princess Luna when she emerged. There was a more normal ‘elegantly ruffled’ air to her now as she strode out of the small room, trailed by her flowing star-strewn mane and tail. Small tufts of hair still stuck up where she had not troubled herself to brush upon her awakening, and a single feather on one wing stuck out at an awkward angle, only emphasizing the perfect preening that made the rest of her wings fairly glow in the shop lighting. More than one elderly pegasus of both genders took one look at Luna’s wings, cast a particularly knowing and horribly embarrassing look at a certain cringing green tutor, and returned their attention to their ‘other’ princess with a proper bow. Scootaloo skimmed up to Luna’s front with a steaming cup of coffee on her head, grinning maniacally as the princess picked up the cup and took a sip.
“Do you like it, Your Highness? We all put the machine together ourselves!”
A single sugar cube from a neighboring table took flight, darting across the room and vanishing into the coffee with a faint ‘bloop’ before Luna took another sip and ruffled the young pegasus’ mane with one hoof. “Indeed, young one, it is better coffee than I have ever tasted in Canterlot.” The Royal Gaze swept up the stairs to the busy table where three older ponies bent down in various intensities of a sincere bow, and Monster could barely be seen above the table top.
There was a silence, stretched thin by anticipation, then four voices spoke at once.
“Your Highness…”
“Sister, do…”
“Trixie would like to ask…”
“I’m sorry…”
A second silence filled the coffee shop, broken only by a few elderly ponies chuckling, before Trixie stood up. “Let’s try this again in order of importance. Twilight has a question she would like to ask, Your Highness. Go ahead, Menace.”
“could you marry mom and tallgrass?”
“And now you.” Trixie gestured to the charcoal-grey Nocturne who had not removed her face from the floor yet.
“Your Highness, I would consider it an honor beyond any others if you were to preside over…” Laminia trailed off to a dead stop and tried to mash her face even further into the floorboards.
“Aaaand now for Greenie,” said Trixie with a roll of her eyes.
The green stallion stood stock still with his mouth open and a red pencil still dangling from his lip like an unlit cigarette.
Trixie shrugged. “I was just going to ask if you had a pleasant nap. Anyway, Twilight would like you to preside over her parent’s wedding out on the town square tonight, and so would your lo—” Trixie hesitated just long enough to edit her next syllable “—yal hoofmaiden. And Greenie…” A sharp-driven elbow into his ribs seemed to restart the language section of the tutor’s brain as he lunged to his hooves and began to talk.
“Princess Luna, what would happen in the event I were to withdraw my request?” The words all rolled out in one quick line, and Green Grass stood silent afterwards, obviously attempting to breathe through his nose instead of panting in panic.
Every eye in the room looked at Princess Luna, who stood in a pool of perfect tranquility with just the ghost of a smile on her relaxed face. She shook her head in a slow motion before chuckling in such a natural fashion that half the room joined in.
“That is a hypothetical situation that I have never had to face, Lord Green Grass. Presumably, we would be most upset at the removal of thy promise before we have even had a chance to make a decision. We might even act irrationally, as mares are wont to do when deprived of promised affection for no good reason. Which reminds me, I simply must ask Celestia where the Royal Gelding Irons have been placed.” A second wave of chuckles swept through the room, although a considerably paler tutor did not join in the humor. “Will there be anything more, Lord Green Grass?” she added, as Laminia took her cue to slip down the stairs and hold the outside door open for her princess.
“No?” said Green Grass in a near inaudible squeak.
“Very well.” The Princess of the Night strode proudly out into the town square with two guards and a multitude of happy little ponies at her heels. Trixie took a moment before picking up the rigid tutor with her magic to put him back in his seat and give a quick brush across his educational-toy laden vest.
He still had that cute glazed look that indicated an emergency concentration of thought processes on a critical problem resulting in immobility, but she could not help but tweak his present panic by saying, “You know, Greenie, if she’s anything like her sister, I think she really likes you.”
“Butterflies,” he whispered in return. “They’re starting to look a lot better.”
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Note: Next chapter is done, I'm putting it up tomorrow.
So Monster is in Spark mode with the Coffee machine... oh dear
Hilarious chapter, lots of funny moments. I honestly find myself rooting for Greenie to end up with Luna, at least that way his parents can't complain but they wouldn't be able to do much else since his wife would out rank them. I loved Luna ruffling Scootaloo's hair, I can totally see her coming to visit whenever one of the little Element bearers has a birthday. 
I can't wait until someone figures out the multiple versions of Twilight are NOT changeling related and she's been messing around with time and space.
And Laminia and Pumpernickle should get married again to make it official, plus it would be the first Notcturne wedding presided over by Luna.
I was rolling on the floor laughing at Cadence and Blueblood filling in for Celestia and Luna, especially the Princess Blueblood in drag.
So, multiple Twilights are running around, but nobody save Dash has even an inkling of them. Did she make clones or is she playing fast and loose with time and space?
Has Twilight been spiking everyone's coffee? She's a bit buzzed herself, and she apparently crafted some harmonious monstrosity of a coffee machine.... that works!
I got a real kick out of Featherweight pulling out multiple copies of the photos for Rainbow Dash. Poor Dash can't speak to Twilight very well.
Poor Blueblood...everyone's always so mean to the guy. I mean the scene was funny as heck, but...poor poor Blueblood.
I honestly think he's probably a nicer guy than the fandom gives him credit for. I mean the only time we've ever seen Blueblood interacting with other ponies was during the Gala...and to be honest Rarity kinda deserved what she got.
Actually....
You were tackled by Monster, Twist, Featherweight is the one that jumped in the pile because other ponies were.
That Monster is quite the little girl genius... Fun stuff!
Great
No Twilight! We do not use non-euclidean geometry when building coffee machines, that way lies madness (and horrible horrible tentacles).
4472056 Oops, need to somehow indicate that mom and Tallgrass fell down with her. (fixed)
4471901 Good question. She probably should have asked that before splitting herself.
4471722 yes, she should do the wedding, but I think she should be kept away from any guitars
Way back in the day Mr Fantastic had a coffee machine just like that one ...
4471671 4472132 4472787 4471769 4472853
I'm guessing that Monster's Coffee Engine Mk. II™ (pat. pending) looks a bit like this…
girlgeniusonline.com/ggmain/strips/ggmain20070618.jpg
4472863
I love that comic, been a fan of Foglio's work since the 80's in Dragon Magazine.
4472853
4472863
4472887 Adding this to the bottom of the next chapter (can't believe I forgot to credit P. Foglio and his amazing Girl Genius.
Inspiration for the coffee machine provided by Girl Genius and Phil Foglio.
I see we're all in good company as readers of both this story and Girl Genius.
And maaaaaaaan, poor Greenie in this 'verse. I'm kind of rooting for him to end up with Trixie, but I'm not sure I expect it to actually happen, They do have fun chemistry though. And Dash's reaction to the preening talk was fairly hilarious, especially her protectiveness of Scoots.
Yeah, between the injury, the alcohol, and the triplicated memories, I do not expect Monster to enjoy her reunification...
Also, as Contraptionology! taught us, drunken mad science is the best mad science.
In any case, this chapter read like "Georg's Greatest Hits," and I mean that in the best possible way. Most enjoyable. I'm eagerly looking forward to tomorrow's installment.
4472787
But the tentacles make it taste even better!
4471802
Five year old girl who speaks with multiple clear impediments to speach, and who you know suffers from atleast one mental illness, starts asking you questions about sex. How do you respond.
Honestly, dash did better than I ever would.
10k words of Monster-y goodness, sweet.
That song is stuck in my head now, thank you very much.
All I want is a proper cup of coffee
made in a proper copper coffee pot.
I may be off my dot
but I want a proper coffee from a proper coffee pot
Iron coffee pots and tin coffee pots,
they are no use to me.
If I can't have a proper cup of coffee from proper copper coffee pot
I'll have a cup of tea.
That sounds like it could be potentially painful.
Now you can all have it stuck in your head.
Actual name: Trixie Lulamoon
So are you having them call her the wrong name on purpose or is it a typo?
4474675 Somehow Autocorrect got a hold of it. I fixed it in the source document everywhere and reuploaded the last 2 chapters. Hope there aren't any others in there.
4473766 Well, Trixie's going to enjoy her time in the spotlight sticking Monster back together. Or at least it will look that way.
4474363 Women wear the most amazing things on their lashes.
4474362 I love that song, and I don't even drink coffee
When Tall Grass first asked if Luna could marry him and Zecora, I thought he meant being in a relationship with them. Took a bit to realize what he meant, but it was a funny thought. I can't wait for Big Mac to smack Green Grass around for eyeballing his mare.
4473993
The problem is that Twilight is not really a five year old (I would say her age is somewhat ambiguous in fact) and is by nature inquisitive. Not only that, but she doesn't seem to have the same inhibitions anyone else would. How much does she really remember anyway? I mean she had that brief, and rather physical incident with Big Mac in her former body and she's easily as old, technically speaking and going by length of existence, as Trixie. Doesn't make it any less confusing to figure out what to say to her though, although green grass is pretty in the dark on the whole thing...
P.S.
Five year old's generally don't help resolve serious magical conditions and build working coffee machines from spare parts based on designs only found in their heads. I don't know that she's really suffering from any mental illness unless you consider past trauma a mental illness.
4471722
Greenie x Luna +1 -- Not terribly likely, but I still really like the idea. Especially since I think Luna would enjoy making him wish, at least initially, that he'd just let himself get roped into marrying that other pony. Besides, I get the sense that this Luna (as opposed to other stories) might enjoy messing around with the other nobility by just marrying one or more ponies as she wishes. I mean it's not clear that his (Greenie's) father has any actual authority to marry him off to someone, aside from wringing his arm and it's reasonable to assume that Luna may accept or deny any request of such sort that she pleases...
That bit with Blueblood is pretty hilarious.
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Is this "lifted" from or inspired by something else? It feels familiar somehow.
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I'm not really for that, although they do seem to make for good friends... It would be an interesting take/result. I mean if he proposed and she actually agreed, would Celestia intervene on one side or the other?
I think you mean:
All I want is a proper cup of coffee
Made in a proper copper coffee pot
I may be off my dot
But I want a proper coffee in a proper copper pot.
...Iron coffee pots and tin coffee pots
They are no use to me
If I can't have a proper cup of coffee in a proper copper coffee pot I'll have a cup of tea!
Still loathe that scramble cheat of a ponified Elvis Presley. Seriously, you can say Elvis Impersonator. Most people do, and that mark of evil in word form can be cut.
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While I'm disappointed in the lack of Big Mac action. I'm liking Greenie and Luna. And I hope he ends with her, rather than be a pony that's brought up and then disappears.
Dat spiked coffee. :D
What? That LOSER and Luna?
Monster Twilight Sparkle Menace, Princess of... Coffee?
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Here! Coffee's ready!
That is the exact scene I was thinking of while reading this chapter.
Wait. Is the mental institute Broadmoor or Broadmore?
6316382 I understand the confusion. Broadmoor Hospital is Britian's highest security mental institution (other than Parliment). If you want a real giggle, Google 'Broadmoor hospital' and read the reviews.
Ex. "One of the worst hotels I have ever stayed at, staff were friendly enough but I am pretty sure I booked a VIP room and I was put into this silly children room with pillows on the wall. Also the food was pretty crap not going to lie and the fact the guests who stayed there would a little bit on the odd side lets just say, but the banter was great, some joker even claimed he had killed people - what a laugh! Cheap holiday goers beware!"
This is Broadhoof. It's different. It has ponies. I used the name as a homage to the famous Asylum fic that I follow, favorited, and anticipate every chapter. (although I maintain my sanity while waiting.)
There's also a group on Fimfiction where the inmates hang out.
faze
I've seen Twilight compared to Agatha Heterodyne in several fics. Points for not copying the scene verbatim if the reference was intentional.
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It was. There's even fanart somewhere of Luna trying thr perfect cup.
This chapter was a delightful trainwreck of madness.