Genius, mad scientist or simple unicorn who caught a lucky break? Starswirl's journal shall reveal all.
The lack of private bathing facilities in a city such as Gilded Lily is shocking to me. It borders on scandalous. Though who am I to speak of scandal. And honestly, there's nothing all that bad about communal washrooms. I mean, you're only bathing in the filth of everypony who has used the bath before you. And my filth is particularly. . . filthy. At this point though, I'd be willing to douse myself in mud and peel the grime off layer by layer. Now that I think about it. . . no, that's a horrible idea. Anyhow, I'm going to try and wash the shame from my soul and then see the king. I've delayed my duties long enough.
Addendum: I'm foregoing my bath. I'd rather live with my shame one more day than watch wrinkly, old stallions bathe themsleves for one minute. So many wrinkles. . .
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Oh geez, what did he see? Wait, no, never mind. I don't want to know anymore!
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaand he's scarred for life!