Chapter 7
Last time on Fear Of The Fall: It was his sled.
Pony society had always maintained certain rules in regards to the creation of top hats. As an article of clothing, they had always inspired a certain mystique that led itself to the creation of lores, rituals and half-baked prophecies; they had thus accumulated more than a few rules about their possession. Like the majority of rules dredged from the legends of old, most of them made sense at the time, but had since fallen into absurdity. It was still illegal to engineer a top hat to contain any kind of cannon. Likewise, it was prohibited to fill a top hat with pudding and attempt to float it under a bridge (mostly because the laws of physics said no, but also for fear of attracting hungry nixies with an eye for fashion). Despite this, the rule that a top hat should not be equal to or greater than the height of the wearer was, as of yet, a mere gentlecolt's agreement.
Spike was not a gentlecolt.
He did, however, have a new moustache – one of such fierce volume and unabashed masculinity that it nearly caused widespread fainting as he made his way through the streets of Canterlot towards the castle. He carried a cane, ostensibly to compliment his stylish new tuxedo, but which he found more useful for bopping ponies lightly upon the head. He had even, through strange and mysterious channels, acquired a monocle. It was safe to say, therefore, that Spike was down to party; that he was, in fact, eager to strut his stuff and boogie down to any phat beats that he might happen across.
Three hours earlier, the picture had been a little different. After days of scouring costume shops for easy outs, Spike had come to the conclusion that most ponies made costumes for ponies, and if you were going to wear them, it helped if you were a quadruped. Spike was not a quadruped, and he was also not very good at making costumes; alone, his greatest effort was a collection of pans tied to his body with string and prefaced with a declaration that he was a knight in shining kitchenware.
Luckily, he shared a house with Twilight Sparkle, who, when she wasn't using her considerable magical power to travel through time or transcend huge distances with a pop and some fire, was more than willing to use it for the purposes of light entertainment – for a price.
“Okay, Spike,” she'd said upon hearing his plight. “I can magic you up a costume for the night. But you have to do something for me. Just one teensy, weensy little thing.”
Spike had frowned. Usually, tasks preceded by the words teensy and weensy turned out to be death-defying stunts involving ridiculous amounts of derring-do and heroism. Nopony ever used teensy or weensy to describe a thing you'd actually want to do.
“All I want you to do is show up at the party half an hour early, and make sure everything's going okay. That's all. You just have to keep an eye on things until everypony's there,” Twilight had explained. “I'm going to be a little late since I need to prep my costume, so I need somepony reliable. Who better to ask than my number one assistant?”
Spike had frowned even more deeply. By his reasoning, if she was appealing to his pride as her assistant, then she really wanted his help. Which meant she was almost certain something would go wrong.
“What kind of costume are we talking about here?” he'd asked.
“Oh, I don't know. Something fancy,” Twilight had said. “I'll make whatever you like.”
At that point, alarm bells had begun ringing in Spike's head. Twilight did not write blank cheques if she could avoid it. He sensed danger in the immediate future – too much danger to risk for a silly costume. But then again, he was her number one assistant, and if she needed his help that badly…
“Throw in a moustache, and we've got a deal,” he'd said, against his better judgement.
Which was how he came to be the best-dressed dragon in Equestria, forging his way through Canterlot with such undeniable swagger that a passing street musician armed with a saxophone began following him, supplying a funky beat to accompany his journey.
“That was the best. Thing. Ever,” she remarked when they finally reached the castle. “I always wanted to do that. I gotta get back to my bandmates, though. The boss is in a bad mood today, and I was only meant to be getting my sax looked over by the pony who made it.”
“It was pretty rad,” Spike agreed, twitching his moustache. “Hey, what's your name? I'll tell my friends about your band.”
“Name's Brass Horn. We haven't really settled on a group name yet. But thanks anyway, little guy. Gotta go.”
He waved goodbye as she left, before self-consciously adjusting his hat and entering the castle. After a little light-hearted banter with the guards (who distinctly did not remember his moustache and were much amused by it) he made his way to the main hall, knowing the way by habit alone. He nodded to the suits of armor as he passed them, saluting the place he had spent his childhood.
When he finally reached the main hall, he was momentarily blindsided by what he found there. What he found was a feather boa that seemed to take up half the room. What he found was a hat that dwarfed even his own. What he found was a pony wearing a showgirl skirt, lacy stockings and a domino mask. In the second or so he took to process the sight, she bounded up to him and gathered him up in a huge hug.
“H-hey, Pinkie,” he gasped. She smelt faintly of talcum powder and bubble gum.
“Hey Spike! I love your costume, it's fantabulariffic! You wanna swap hats? Ooh, wait, you gotta try the punch. What a cool moustache! Hey, do you think moose get moustaches? Is moose the correct plural for moose? It sounds weird. Maybe it's moosen. Aren't you excited? I'm excited!” she said, at her traditional five hundred miles an hour.
“In order: nope, sure, I know right?, maybe, I think it actually is moose, it does sound pretty weird, yes, and I never would have guessed,” Spike recited, counting on his claws. “Are all the party preparations going okay?”
Pinkie merely waved her forelegs at the ceiling; streamers had been hung from it so densely that it seemed more like a canopy of multicoloured jungle vines. Somehow, though, it never quite got to the stage where it was unappealing; it was over the top, but always in the lovably goofy way.
“Cool. That means I did my job for the evening,” he shrugged, now happy in the knowledge that he had earned his facial hair. “You okay if I go and visit the kitchen? I know the chef, and he makes the best upside down ice cream cakes in all the world.”
“I like upside down ice cream cakes,” Pinkie said, her tail twitching under the showgirl skirt. “Do you think there'll be enough for two?”
Spike grinned. “Considering we're basically going to go raid Princess Celestia's icebox? I think there'll be more than enough.”
With that, he led the way to the kitchen, cane swinging and monocle gleaming, with Pinkie bouncing along in his wake. Their party was technically a birthday party, Pinkie explained, and what was a birthday party without cake? In fact, what was any party without cake? It was a philosophical question that echoed deep within the boundaries of Spike's noble soul, and he voiced his agreement whole heartedly. Without cake, the two decided, the party was a lie.
Back in the main hall, Princess Celestia stepped out from the passage where she had overheard their conversation, and smiled regally. Perhaps another ruler would have stopped them from raiding the Royal Larder, but she encouraged the pursuit of cake wherever it occurred. With a show of grace and dignity lesser ponies could only dream of, she drank a glass of Pinkie's punch. Somehow, she thought, it seemed as though it was missing something. But she couldn't decide what.
The rules of hats may have been a matter of tradition, but the rules of Plans were vast, cosmic and immutable. You could not, for example, explain a Plan before you had put it into action, or it would fail. The first step of a Plan could never be stopped, and therefore all Plans consisting of exactly one stage would succeed. If you had captured an arch-nemesis and had them strapped to a table, a failure to detail your plan would result in seven years' bad luck, and so on.
Rarity had analysed the rules of Plans. She had charted them in novels and in experience, mapped them out on graphs and pondered them in the night. As a meticulous, organised pony, it was only natural. Through all her research, she had come to one, unshakeable conclusion:
All the best Plans involved cross-dressing.
Furthermore, the more recursive the cross-dressing, the greater the chance of success for the plan. A mare dressing as a stallion enjoyed a fair rate of success, but a mare dressing as a stallion who was dressing as a mare was almost unstoppable. Such was the wisdom of the playwrights of yore. Which was why, on a fairly brisk and chilly Canterlot evening, Rarity was a mare who was pretending to be a stallion who was actually a mare who was disguised as a stallion. It was that kind of Plan.
Rarity had taken great care over her costume choice. Her main goal was that she would not be recognised as herself, and the safest way to ensure that, she had reasoned, was to come in as ridiculous a costume as possible. Nopony would expect her to willingly commit a fashion faux pas. In addition, she had been sure to get a store-bought costume. There was a chance that somepony like Fluttershy could pick out her stitching idiosyncrasies if she'd made it herself. In all ways, she had thought this through.
What she had done was simple. She had gone out to the local sports retailer and purchased a stallion's leotard (helpfully fitted with a cup to protect 'sensitive areas', as the shopkeeper cheerfully informed her), before immediately going home and tie-dying it. She had then attacked it with rhinestones, stitched on lightning bolts and go-faster stripes, done her level best to make it as gaudy and ridiculous as possible. She'd bought a pair of ridiculously huge sunglasses and replaced the lenses, one green and one blue. She'd purchased a huge sombrero, in which she hid her glorious mane. When she put it all together, the result was spectacular. It was perfect.
That did not, of course, mean she had to like it. The leotard was far too tight on her, a far cry from the billowing roominess of a good old dress. The cup, which was necessary to suggest she did indeed have the requisite parts to protect, rubbed annoyingly against her hind legs. The affront against fashion that she was committing burned in the very depths of her soul. But, with steely determination, she put up with it – all for the sake of promoting true love.
Of course, she drew some strange looks at the door. Mostly from the guards. And everypony else. It was probably the sombrero. Sombreros, she thought, were a very stately and dramatic style of hat, well suited to attract the eye. They were also quite itchy. She almost lost hers when she went through a doorway that was a touch too narrow, but it was fine. Nothing suggested that anypony had identified her yet.
When she entered the main hall (ignoring any and all flabbergasted expressions), she began to mingle. Or, rather, circulate. One of the great advantages of a sombrero was that it established a circular radius of personal space equal to the size of the brim, and the brim of Rarity's sombrero was very wide indeed. Unfortunately, this made it hard to speak to anypony without shouting, and even when she tried, she found they were generally too speechless at her attire to form coherent replies. Still, she was technically the co-hostess of the party, and it would simply be a breach of duty not to go ahead and see how everypony was doing.
Once she had made a full circuit of the room, she settled down to her objective; slowly, carefully, she began to rake her eyes across the masked faces, looking for a Mare Do Well. This was the most important part of the plan – to find and approach Rainbow Dash. For a second, she wondered if her colourful choice of apparel might make Dash think her too weird to talk to, but it was a worry quickly swept aside; after all, they both interacted with Pinkie on a regular basis. After that, nopony was too weird to talk to.
Eventually, after a few minutes of studied observation, she caught a glimpse of that oh-so-familiar purple mask slipping in and out of the crowd. With careful deliberation, she set off in pursuit – not so fast as to attract attention (well, more attention), but not so slow as to lose sight of her quarry. She made it look as natural as possible, even stopping once or twice to give a friendly nod to the braver gawkers, picking up a glass of punch as a prop. A lifetime of aspiration had taught her the proper way to approach somepony at a party without being too forward.
She did get the feeling, however, that Rainbow Dash was trying to evade her. Each time she got near, her target would suddenly feel the desire for punch or snacks or something else, always conveniently located at the opposite side of the room. But then, Rarity thought, Twilight had hinted that the pegasus was going to try to set up a prank; she was probably just trying to do it whilst nopony was looking.
In the end, though, Rarity would not be denied. Working slowly and tactically, she began to herd her quarry towards a corner, one flanked by a large crowd of dancers. It would be near impossible to move through them without crashing into one or two and drawing unwanted attention. With her unwitting conspirators guarding one direction, she approached from the other, walking towards her victim with the slow, inevitable pace of the executioner.
“Why, hello there!” she greeted, as the Mare Do Well cast her eyes around for an escape and found herself without one. “My name is...”
She fell silent for a second, realising that she hadn't actually thought of an alias. “Elusive,” she invented wildly. “Yes, that's my name. You must the famous Rainbow Dash that I've heard so much about. Such an athletic grace simply can't be hidden by a costume.”
“Um, no, you see, I'm-”
“Mare Do Well, of course,” Rarity winked. “Don't worry, I won't keep you long. Aren't you going to say hello?”
To her great surprise, Rainbow Dash began to look around in what she would almost call a shifty manner. It seemed like she'd caught her right in the middle of a prank after all.
“H-hello. That's, um, a nice h-hat,” the pegasus replied. Rarity frowned. Was that a stutter she heard? She couldn't tell. The mask muffled the voice. Then again, it might just be that Dash was giving her a backhoofed compliment, and was trying to suppress her laughter at the outfit. That seemed like something Dash would do.
“It is, isn't it? Yours is very nice, too. Very stylish,” Rarity continued, fighting her urge to say the word debonair. That would have her rumbled for sure. “But then, there are quite a number of well-dressed ponies here tonight. Don't you agree?”
Rainbow Dash gave an awkward cough, and visibly avoided looking at Rarity's costume. Rarity decided to apply a little more pressure; after all, the costume gave her carte blanche for personal interactions. It wouldn't reflect badly on her after this evening.
“In fact, the stallions here are very good looking – even under all those costumes, wouldn't you say?” she asked.
“Um...Yes?” Dash replied hopefully, plainly wishing for the conversation to be at an end so she could carry on with whatever scheme she was planning.
However, the lack of substantive response gave an answer to the first of Rarity's many questions – that of gender preference. Although rumours were certainly abroad that Dash favoured the fairer sex, she'd never really said so herself, and it would be folly to assume based only on hearsay. It was plain, however, that Dash hadn't even bothered to look at the stallions at the party – which meant that her interests, if any, probably lay elsewhere. With satisfaction, Rarity filed the information away in her head, and went on to question two.
“That's not a very strong answer. I take it none of them are your type? Let me guess. You're into independent ponies with a stubborn streak. Or, wait; perhaps you'd prefer an energetic pony who's the life and soul of the party? Or maybe you just want a quiet, kind, gentle soul to come home to after a hard day's work. Am I correct?”
“A-actually, I, um, already have a mare I like,” the pegasus replied quietly.
Immediately, Rarity knew it was a lie. There was a certain nervousness in the tone of voice. Still, this could be profitable.
“Do tell.”
“Ah...” Dash gasped, evidently inventing furiously. “Um, well, she's an athlete…”
Aha! I knew it. There IS something going on between her and Applejack, Rarity thought. “Go on.”
“Well, um, she's going to try out for a flying team. I'm sure she'll make it. She's very good,” Dash mumbled.
Rarity fought the urge to roll her eyes. Of course. Ask Rainbow Dash who she liked, and the answer was herself. Wonderful. It seemed like she was going to have her work cut out for her if she wanted to lead this mare to true love.
“Well, I won't pry any more. Good luck with her, and enjoy the party. I may speak to you later, if I see you again. It's been a pleasure,” Rarity said, hiding the note of dejection in her voice. This never happened in the novels. She began to trot away. As she did, she was too distracted by her own thoughts to hear Rainbow Dash make a pronounced squeak.
Sergeant Pinkamena Diane Pie was on a mission. That mission was to track down the immortal Princess of the Night and deliver unto her a hug that would make her implode with joy. Her previous mission, securing and devouring every single piece of upside down ice cream cake in the castle, had gone incredibly well. Now, fully concentrated on the task at hoof, she decided to show off her military credentials by travelling exclusively via emergency combat roll.
The newly drafted Lieutenant JG Spike was in a rather less energetic mood, having contracted the dreaded 'brain freeze' disease during his brief insertion into kitchen territory. Unable to procure medical supplies on-site, Spike was now feeling the full effects of the malady, made more annoying by the fact that he was a dragon and therefore used to a much higher internal temperature. To make matters worse, he had sneezed and set fire to his precious moustache; in mere seconds, it had burnt to a crisp, leaving only his monocle. What kind of dragon, he lamented, wore a monocle without a moustache? Still, ever the professional soldier, he plodded along after his comrade, assuring civilians that the whirling ball of pink and showgirl skirts was nothing to be afraid of.
Upon reaching the corridor that led to the main hall, Pinkie abruptly stopped rolling, stood up, and retrieved her hat from inside a nearby suit of armour. Spike had been fairly sure she'd put it in the one at the other end of the corridor, but decided not to question it.
“Okay, we're in position,” she hissed. “You remember the signal? Well, give it to me.”
“You're the superior officer, why don't you do it?” Spike asked.
“I can't. Hooves,” she said, clopping her own.
“Oh, yeah. You need claws to do the signal,” Spike said, and repeated the routine of claw wiggling that Pinkie had taught him at the other end of the corridor. “But wait, why do you even need a signal? You just said we were in position, so it's not like you didn't know-”
He was too late, since Pinkie had already bounded into the main hall and shouted, at the very tippy tops of her lungs, “Freeze! Nopony move, or the mare gets it!”
Everypony in the main hall abruptly froze, looking for the mare who was supposed to be 'getting it'. Conveniently, she didn't exist, and the confusion caused by that fact gave Sergeant Pie enough time to combat roll across the room and accost a hapless party-goer.
“Hi. My name's Pinkie. It's really nice to meet you. Say, do you know where Luna is? I've been looking for her everywhere. She needs a hug,” she explained politely.
“Are you insane?” the party-goer asked, sheer befuddlement visible even on their masked face.
“Wow, philosophy! Well, it depends on whether insanity really exists or is just a label applied to us by society! Y'see, my friend Twilight says-”
“She's with me,” Spike interjected. “Uh, Sarge? Luna's at the other end of the hall, near the punch bowl.”
“Good reconnaissance, soldier! But how did you find out?” she asked.
“Well, she's like, twice as tall as everypony else? Also she's the one wearing the incredibly realistic Nightmare Moon costume.”
Pinkie nodded, before hurling herself into another combat roll and spinning her way to the other side of the room. Spike walked. When he arrived, Pinkie was already staring down the Princess, who, despite her size advantage, looked concerned.
Time, it has been remarked, is truly the rudest of dimensions. It waits for nopony, flies in no-flying zones and would probably be liable for a speeding ticket if anypony could catch it. Knowing this, one can probably guess that time did not stand still for Pinkie and Luna's epic showdown; there was no slow motion, no blur of flying hoofs. In fact, the whole encounter was over in the time it took for somepony on the other side of the room to dip their head into the punch bowl and take an uncomfortably loud slurp. Pinkie feinted to the left before diving straight ahead; Luna tried to go right but simply wasn't quick enough.
“Hello, Princess Luna! I'm giving you your super-special surprise birthday hug!” the pink mare said happily, dangling from the Princess' neck.
“Art thou – no, of course thou art serious. Well met, Pinkamena Pie,” Luna said, recovering bravely from the surprise.
“Wow, Princess Luna! You're really doing well on the whole volume thing. Even I have trouble with that sometimes. Are you enjoying the party? I wanted it to be super awesome, but Twilight said I couldn't have any cannons or elephants or marching bands or any of the good stuff. So we just had to go with regular awesome instead.”
“I wonder why,” Luna remarked dryly. “The current levels of fun are quite acceptable. You have my gratitude for all your hard work setting up the event.”
“But...but...Don't you wanna...you know? Increase the fun by a certain amount?” Pinkie asked, eyes round and tearful.
Luna furrowed her brow. “Whatever could you mean?”
“Oh, she just wants you to say that the fun needs to be mphfh,” Spike began, his voice suddenly muffled as Pinkie dropped off Luna's neck and clamped her hoof to his mouth.
“It doesn't count unless she says it by herself! Ssssh. I know what the audience wants,” she hissed.
“...Ahem. Well, regardless, I am enjoying myself quite thoroughly,” Luna said with a regal smile, before adding, as a curiously deliberate afterthought: “By the by, I have heard tell that some form of jape or prank has been planned to occur tonight. I don't suppose you would know anything about it?”
Pinkie flopped one ear down. “Huh? There are japes going on and I wasn't told?”
A soft, relaxed giggle came from behind Luna's shoulder. “If there are any pranks going on tonight, I should be most surprised if my dear sister didn't have a hoof in them herself.”
Luna wheeled around to find herself face to face with Princess Celestia, who wore a helmet much like those of her royal guardsponies for a mask. As always, she seemed to exude calmness.
“Ah, Prin – I mean, dearest sister. I was not aware you were standing behind me,” the Princess of the Night said, somewhat taken aback.
“Really? She's not very hard to notice. She's pretty big,” Pinkie pointed out.
“Good evening, Pinkie. And you, too, Spike. I see you're keeping things eventful as usual,” Celestia smiled. Pinkie and Spike looked at each other, thought about how they'd just eaten everything in Princess Celestia's icebox, and agreed that, yes, the night had been pretty eventful.
“Ahaha. Forgive me for being so surprised, sister. I had thought you were unable to attend…” Luna trailed off.
“I was, but certain circumstances meant my schedule was cleared,” Celestia explained, before looking meaningfully at the punch bowl. “Hm. We appear to be running somewhat low. Spike, Pinkie, could I trouble you to run to the kitchen and check if we have enough in stock? Feel free to help yourself to anything you might fancy whilst you're there.”
“Sounds good to me! Come on, Lieutenant. We've got a mission to fulfil!” Pinkie said, realising she was being given an out for having eaten all the cake without asking. “Come on, let's see your best combat roll.”
“Sorry, Sarge. Can't. I'd gouge holes in the floor, on account of the obvious,” the dragon said, pointing at his namesakes.
“Ugh! This is why we wear helmets, soldier. I guess we'll have to march.”
“They are so very lively, aren't they? It's quite charming,” Celestia remarked as they left. “Are you enjoying the party thus far?”
“I-indeed. Very merry,” Luna replied, a hint of discomfort in her voice; the feeling never quite reached her face, however.
“I was expecting something more, if I'm quite honest. My favourite student was under the impression that something extraordinary was going to happen. Still, I suppose there's still time.”
“But, sister, what if it turns out to be something bad?”
“Well, it probably wouldn't be anything we would have difficulty in handling. We are magicians of some moderate talent. After all, art thou not-” Celestia replied, before stopping sharply.
Luna narrowed her eyes, then widened them in shock as her mouth dropped open in an expression that was quite unlike her. She closed it, and, lowering her voice to a whisper, asked: “'Art thou'? P-princess Luna? Is that you?”
“Drat. I was having such fun, too,” the other princess said; for just a moment, her illusion spell flickered, revealing the Princess of the Night underneath. “And after I went to all the trouble of getting my sister's permission to copy her. Although I see that I am not the only one who wore somepony else's face tonight. Well met, Twilight Sparkle.”
A crack appeared on the other Luna's face, spreading quickly across her body until, like a pane of glass, it shattered, revealing a purple unicorn wearing a look of absolute panic. “Um, I can explain.”
“Explain what?” Luna asked, using her real voice now. “It was a fine trick, and I applaud the audacity. In addition, it was quite amusing to see you so flustered by my appearance.”
“Then you don't mind?” Twilight asked.
“Think not of it. Although,” she continued mischievously, “I shall hold you to account for the embrace you purloined. Stealing the love of my subjects from beneath my very nose is not something I smile upon.”
Twilight opened her mouth, stammered, closed it, and opened it again.
“Fear not, Twilight Sparkle; I am, as the saying goes, messing with you. I must say, though, that your Royal Canterlot Voice could use a little work. It simply isn't the same without the volume.”
“Um, Princess? Can I just, um, talk to you about something very quickly? Do you remember a pony called Rainbow Dash?”
Luna furrowed her brow. “Hm. A pegasus? Quite colourful?”
“You shocked her with lightning once?” Twilight added hopefully.
Luna paused. “Properly or in jest?”
“Wait, you actually shock-”
“Ahaha. Once more, I am messing with you. I do recall the pony you speak of.”
“Well, um, she wants to get you back. I'm pretty sure she's planning to play a trick on you,” Twilight frowned, one ear flat.
“Oh,” Luna said, “very good. I shall look forward to it.”
Twilight tried very hard not to throw a funny look at the Princess, but evidently not hard enough.
“Very few are the ponies brave enough to attempt to play practical jokes on a member of the royal family. I miss it somewhat, so please, don't do too much to dissuade the attempt,” Luna explained. “Now, your friends will be getting back quite soon, I imagine, so pray resume thy disguise. Do talk to me later, though; I wish to have a word with you privately about some mailing arrangements.”
Frowning, Twilight obeyed; like pieces of stained glass, the image of Luna began to rebuild itself around her, until finally the whole structure settled into a convincing illusion. She shook herself, getting used to projecting the appearance of walking with much longer legs again; she had only just finished when Pinkie and Spike came barrelling back across the main hall towards them.
“There's plenty of mix, but none made up. Also, we ate some cake. A lot of cake. And some ice cream. We might've smooshed a watermelon by accident,” Pinkie gasped as she arrived.
“Very well. Thank you both. I shall go and see to it that some is made,” Luna said, in Celestia's flowing tones.
“Are you sure, s-sister? The kitchen staff will no doubt-” Twilight began.
“-enjoy the brief respite. Worry not, sister. This is a party in your honour, and I shall see to it that all goes well. You would do the same for me,” Luna said, and for a moment, an ominous grin settled on her face.
“Ah...Well. I'm sorry, Spike and Pinkie, but I too must go. I have something to check on in the library. I'll be back momentarily,” Twilight said as Luna left, her voice still a few shades short of where it ought to be. She fought the urge to teleport as she walked away.
When all had fallen still, and Pinkie and Spike had launched themselves off on another grand adventure, there was a stirring underneath the tablecloth. With practised subtlety, Rainbow 'Danger' Dash peeked out, appraising the situation on the dance floor. Rule one of hiding from somepony: hide under their nose. Well, preferably not right under their nose, since that was pretty dumb, but somewhere in and around the vicinity of their nose. It was a strategy that had served her passably in the past, and it had done so again tonight. Besides, she was pretending to be Fluttershy at a crowded party. Where else would she be but hiding under a table?
“So, Luna is Twilight, and Celestia is Luna. Sweet. Now I know who to aim for,” she muttered to herself, retreating back underneath the table. “Pinkie and Spike are accounted for, AJ doesn't matter… Yeah, I think it's time for phase two.”
With no small amount of undignified wriggling, she began to move. After all, she thought, they all had a part to play in making sure the party was a memorable occasion. She just had to give Luna something to look forward to.
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Ah ha I knew this is going to a Futterdash fic. Just wait until Rarity finds out she was wrong.
2012789
Also, I'm looking forward to writing the bit where Rarity discovers she's wrong. I already have plans for it. 
I do try and do stuff like that, simply because it helps flesh out the characters (or, rather, my take on the characters) in my own mind as well as in the minds of the readers. Also it's fun and I apparently cannot keep my attention on the plot for more than half a chapter.
2042196
I always thought Pinkie would care more about the experience of playing the game with her friends than she would about winning. I think I planned that chapter around Christmas (when I myself was playing board games) so there was a tiny bit of real life writing the pointless fluffy scenes.
2132577
Ah, if only things were that simple!
Okay, I'm afraid I'm going to have to dock you half a point for neglecting to do the gag where Applejack strolls by and says, "Hey Rarity, how's the party?"
And Rainbow is going to end up pranking the real Celestia, isn't she?
2132698
As for what will happen to Dash, well, spoilers. 
The obligatory gag where AJ walks by and says "Hey Rarity, how's the party?" Wait for next chapter; such a thing was already planned to occur in a somewhat different form.
2132709
To be fair, chapter one was before I really got a handle on the story, and I keep meaning to go back and make a more fitting prologue. Originally, the whole thing was meant to be a fairly simple RainbowPie emotional shipfic started to allay my own boredom, but about halfway through chapter two or three, I just threw my hands up in the air, started shipteasing everypony with everypony, took a more comedic narration, and rolled with it. (Also, Spike's later appearances in the story are somewhat more favourable to the little guy. It's funnier that way.)
i very much enjoyed this.
2132577
Perhaps or you have been fooled by Rainbow Dash dressed as Mare Do Well acting as Fluttershy really stating that she loves herself (lol). That would be hilarious considering that in that case she would be pulling a similar gambit as Rarity with her feint within a feint within a feint.
2133050 She'll learn the hard way unfournately.
I honestly have no idea who is going to end up with who. At this moment I am seriously considering that Spike and Pinkie could be a legitimate pairing. And Twilight and Pinkie. And Pinkie and everypony. Of course, I ship Pinkie with everyone normally so that could be my own bias speaking.
I'm really enjoying it.
Ship fics are always a tad too predictable for me, and you've basically turned this on its head- even if it didn't start out that way.
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Spike and Pinkie are always a legitimate pairing!
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Pinkie and anybody is always a legitimate pairing.
This is gold.
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Can't ait for the conclusion, it's been almost a year. This is actually the second story I started reading on this site, and that was back in April/May. So more like nine months, but I can't wait. Your writing style is hilarious.
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I very specifically have not planned the eventual outcome of this story, so even I don't know exactly what's going on. On one hand, this means the wait time is a little higher; on the other hand, it allows for current levels of ridiculousness.
It takes me a long time to do stuff. It has become somewhat of an in-joke.
2132977
Yay!
2133050
I'm not actually a fan of Rarity myself, which her importance to the plot baffles me. It just sort've... happened.
2133131
Double recursive impersonation action? That would be even more insane than what I already have planned. However, that can change!
2133244
You're not the only one.
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...always believe in your soul! You've got the power to know, you're indestructible! Always believe in, 'cause you are gold! [/spandau ballet]
2139846
I'm gonna love it, and hug it, and pet it, and call it George.
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Well, the conclusion to the party, at any rate. Sorry to say it, but the actual story has a bit left to go (probably). Well, my upload times are long enough to be a running joke...
2145735
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So Fluttershy likes Rainbow Dash. Interesting.
I forsee that Rainbow is going to pull a prank on the Celestia she believes to be Luna, except it's going to be the real Celestia who's come back from wherever she was, and Rarity is going to make a fool of herself.
Even if this isn't the case, I still look forward to the next chapter, as always.
And damn you for that bloody almost-portal reference.
2145735
So, hypothetically, this could all be a lead up to a Gummy x Angel Bunny adventure/romance story. Y'know, maybe.
I don't mind the wait time. If the events are a shock even to you, then this is most definitely my kind of story.
Secret ending: LunaDash!
I still have no idea what's going on in this story, and I'm still totally okay with that. Lots of great moments here, but I think my fave part was the conversation between Luna-Twi and Celestia-Luna.
Dammit Dash, you will eat those words, AJ still has the Canterlot dialect to call upon, and many a cunning disguise passed down from Granny Smith's earlier years in which she procured many a masquerade outfit. Calling it now, everyone's favourite farmpony has some part to play yet...
Okay I started reading this on a whim, kept reading it because I was amused, but at this point I feel I have to ask
Are you by any chance a Discworld fan? Because they are some of my favorite books, and one of the top reasons for that is the method of description (in a way most people wouldn't think of describing the thing, and in a way that simultaneously sounds weird and makes perfect sense) and the (paradoxically) illogical logic.
The things that I see that prompted me to ask: (also, coincidentally, a collection of several of my favorite quotes from this)
Maybe not something I'd see in Discworld, but definitely seems to point to you being a troper. Am I right?
Exactly the sort of unusual similes that I'd see in a Discworld book - my favorite type of simile, one that most people wouldn't think of and yet is much cooler than the ones that people would think of.
Brilliant. Unusual and slightly amusing description while not being too distractingly funny to convey the actual feelings of the character.
I have no idea what to say about this other than that it is beautiful, makes absolutely perfect sense, explains a lot, and has the tone I'd expect from a Discworld book.
And last but certainly not least, a near-perfect example of the sort of (paradoxically so) illogical logic that I love so much.
Anyway, if the kinda-random throwing of quotes at you is too annoying/long to read, here's a summary: Your writing amuses me greatly, reminds me of my favorite book series, and I shall keep reading this because of that. Five mustaches for you, and if you haven't read any Discworld books, you probably should, if your writing is anything to go by.
Mulan and Viola would agree
I love the level of shenanigans that's managed to build up. I have a stupid grin on my face pretty much the whole time I'm reading, and I think the sheer unpredictability (combined with the hilarious descriptions) has something to do with this. I can't say I expected Flutterdash (although you left some doubt with Dash saying she was trying to impersonate Fluttershy) but I suppose I can roll with it. Well, I've still got some stuff to catch up on - onward!
Damn. When she learns he's friends with the Elements of Harmony and the princesses, she's gonna be bucking herself in the ass so hard her grandfoals will still feel sore from time to time... :D
100
This is a universal law of Garnering Foe Attraction. The first stage of the plan puts you on the Universe's radar, and from then on it's actively playing against you - but the first move is always free. ;)
She was going to ditch her sister's party for ice cream?! :D