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Forty Nine

You pick up the first book, weighing it in your hands. Twilight looks up at you brightly. “Oh, that’s one of my favourites!” she squeaks, opening it for you with a purple hoof. “Peace And Peace, by Leo Trotsky, he’s a fantastic writer!”

Shaking your head slowly, you laugh at the pony’s simple taste. “Twilight, Twilight Twilight…” you tut, ripping the book in half with your bare hands to show how superior you are to it. “Pony literature is nothing compared to human literature. Let me teach you about its wonders!”

Twilight gives a little shriek as she sees you tear up the book, but is curious, as you hoped she would be. “You mean… it’s better?” she queries, tilting her head slightly. “But pony literature is…”

You cut her off sharply. “No Twilight, human literature is far deeper and moving than anything ponies could write. For thousands of years, humanity has been writing, building upon creative genius to produce writers of towering intellect who have written the greatest works that have ever existed. Works which challenge the very fabric of reality itself! Shakespeare! J K Rowling! Rob Cakeran Fifty-Three! The list goes on and on!”

You look at the book fragment in your hands. “Peace and Peace Twilight, really? This is nothing compared to the masterpiece that is My Little Dashie, the greatest work of literature my planet has ever produced. “

“My… Little… Dashie?” Twilight raises an eyebrow quizzically.

“Yes!” You start to wave your hands about enthusiastically as you describe to Twilight the most moving work in the English language. “Imagine Twilight, imagine Rainbow Dash, but a filly! And one day you find her and she’s in a cardboard box and you have to look after her. Isn’t that deep?” You look into her bright eyes. “Don’t you love me now Twilight, knowing what a deep person I am?”

Twilight recoils slightly. “What? No! That doesn’t sound deep!”

“Oh.” You grimace. “Well, there are many other great works of literature. Take Past Sins for example, a rollercoaster of a novel about you, Twilight, finding a filly Nightmare Moon which you have to look after! Isn’t that deep?”

“That sounds… odd.” It’s Twilight’s turn to pull a face at your description. “Tell me more about it.”

You shrug. “Eh, I’ve not read it actually, but I know I like it because it is popular!” You snap your fingers. “Oh, and Fallout: Equestria! That’s another epic work of fiction! I’ve not read that either, but it’s one of my favourite stories because I really like the Fallout computer games.” You shuffle closer to Twilight. “Now you know how intelligent I am, do you want to marry me?”

Moments later, you find yourself flung onto the streets of Ponyville ass-first. Landing with a thump, you shake your fist in the direction of Twilight. “Uncultured swine!” you scream. You’re glad you got the witty last word in.

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