Shipshape's World

by WishyWish

6 - The Harmonious Muffin Equation

“It has to be some kind of holographic projection…or perhaps a shared mental image of some kind? Or a mass hallucination! The detail is incredible, I’d scarce believe I couldn’t just pick up one of these crullers and stuff myself silly!”

Dr. Hooves passed his foreleg around inside a bistro display case. Derpy watched him bemusedly, but placed a hoof on her growling stomach. One eye rolled heavenward, while the other dipped towards the dirt. She often wondered what it was like for ponies who could only see in one direction at a time. The thought of it was so…limiting. They sometimes gave her funny looks when they found her hanging upside down from a tree branch in the park. If they only knew.

“Doc,” the grey pegasus eyed the display case and gave voice to her feelings, “I’m hungry. I was having muffins in the bathtub when everything went POOF—” she waved her forelegs dramatically, “and now everypony’s staying up too late and I don’t have any muffins anymore. Can we go home now?”

Hooves raised his brow at the slight reflection of his companion in the ‘glass’ display case without turning his head. “Ah…yes well,” he faltered, “Apparently the paranormal entity responsible for this rip in spacetime is somewhat difficult to thwart without a ritual appeasement involving—you eat muffins in the bathtub?”

“Doesn’t everypony?” Derpy replied smartly. “I really like the blueberry ones. Except when they get soggy. I eat ‘em fast.”

“I…see. Well then,” Hooves turned, “Escape may not be evident yet, but such an environment is a rare opportunity for scientific study! Let us investigate that haberdashery across the street next!”

The Doctor made to gallop, but let out a yelp and just as quickly rushed to keep from trampling the two ponies that suddenly appeared under his hoof. Lyra Heartstrings and Bon Bon, wrapped in one another’s legs, were rolling down the street like an overturned garbage can. Their lips were locked tightly, and Hooves could still hear the smacking noises from twenty paces away as they rolled on.

“Fascinating,” the good doctor commented. “And with less than a two percent grade. How do they maintain perpetual locomotion I wonder? It bears further study.”

Derpy tilted her head and blinked. “When two ponies love each other very much, anything is possible, isn’t it Doc?”

Hooves smoothed his chaste mane with a hoof and regarded his companion. “My dear that’s…really quite profound. Perhaps you’re right.”

Derpy grinned and fluttered her wings. “I like strawberries!”

“Indeed!” Hooves replied, the spring returning to his step. He made to cross the street again, but this time the rumbling of his own stomach gave him pause. “Strawberries, perhaps…would be agreeable at present. I wonder if would could procure a few from somewhere.”

“Didn’t you have any muffins in the bathtub tonight Doc? You can have some of mine when we get back if you want. They might be a little soggy by now though. I eat ‘em fast.”

“Perhaps it would be best if…we didn’t discuss food.” Hooves caught himself when he saw Derpy’s expression saddening. “Not that I don’t appreciate the generous offer! We’ve much more to see and do!”

“You can’t do science stuff on an empty stomach,” Derpy observed. “We should go home.”

Hooves was watching a small collection of mares on the street corner. They were gossiping about every stallion that passed by, giggling, and daring each other to stop one and kiss him. When one of them caught the doctor’s wandering eye, he offered her a toothy smile he often practiced in the mirror at night. The mare blew a silvery bang out of her eye, snerked, and started whispering to her friends. They all glanced at Hooves, laughed, and trotted away.

“I believe I shall…be here for some time yet I’m afraid,” Hooves sighed. “This whole ‘shipping’ concept is not my area of expertise.” There was a nuzzle at his neck, and he felt a wash of warm breath over his jugular.

“Aw, don’t worry about that Doc,” Derpy cooed, rubbing her cheek into his nape. “It’s not so hard. You just gotta kiss somepony!”

“I…have yet to experience such an event.”

Derpy frowned. “You never kissed a pony before? Gee, that’s sorta sad.” The bubbly mare paused, wrapped in thought, until an idea hit her and the lightbulb went on full force. “I think you’re sweet. You wanna kiss me?”

Hooves paused. His cheeks felt faintly warm, and he found that for the first time, he couldn’t look his friend in whichever eye happened to be pointing at him at the time. “I beg your pardon?”

“Kiss me, silly!” Derpy repeated, flexing her wings and swishing her moon-yellow tail. “It’ll be fun! And then we can go home and have muffins in the bathtub together! They might be a little soggy though. I eat ‘em fast.”

“W-well I, that is, I…” Chuckling like a wallflower school-colt, he watched as Derpy’s other eye rolled down to greet him. He certainly could not deny her simplistic charms. “The pursuit of science and mathematics,” he said, trying in vain to change the subject “is a noble vocation, but…a somewhat unattractive one in a world dominated by the convenience of magic. Despite the affect that may or may not have on my…social standing, it is my belief that—did you say in the bathtub…together?”

“Uh-huh!” Derpy nodded rapidly. “And then we can do a sleepover! My bed’s pretty big!”

“Your…your bed,” Hooves found himself tugging at his collar. Variables and equations were like pink elephants on parade before his eyes. He considered them, tracing them from end to end like a proper mathematician, until they congealed into a gooey mass of sugary-sweet warmth in his mind, leaving behind nothing but a heart wreathing his feminine friend’s face. He smiled stupidly.

“I…I accept!” He began playing with his mane again, as if preparing himself for a high school dance. “How shall we…how shall we proceed?”

“You’re silly, Doc!” Derpy crept close enough to boop her analytic friend’s muzzle with her own. “It’s easy! You just purse your lips and you touch the other pony’s with them. Oh, and you should probably smile too.”

Doctor Hooves tried to purse his lips while smiling at the same time. All four of his attempts ended in failure. Derpy giggled at him again and let her eyes go crossed as she touched her lips to his.

A moment later, the two found themselves standing in the exact same spot, on the exact same street. Hooves didn’t open his eyes until he heard the sound of giggling from a passing group of ponies. Pulling back a bit, he glanced around to ensure that the night sky, the illusory buildings, and the thatched magic dome were all still there. He made to comment on the lack of change, but his voice was stolen by the look of his simple friend; her wings were stretched out, her eyes were closed, her lips were still pursed, and her tail was swishing hypnotically. Embarrassed, Hooves cleared his throat twice, finally opting for speech when his companion showed no signs of recognition.

“I believe…” he ventured, “that our theoretical hypothesis is just that. Merely a theory.” Crestfallen, he found himself glancing at his hooves, his mind curiously devoid of facts and figures. Derpy only giggled and nudged him again.

Don’t worry Doc. You’re still two bits and a bale of hay to me!”

Hooves touched his own cheek and smiled softly. “Y-you’re right!” He stood tall, his mind once again coming alive with analysis. “There are more ponies in the stable! Come! Let us seek them out while learning all we can, for learning is indeed the spice of life!”

His passion renewed, the doctor crossed the street at a gallop, hungry more for study than stable. He began inspecting a small ethereal garden outside a house, when his ears swiveled in the direction of something that didn’t belong. Given pause, he raised his head and followed the sound. Derpy had to stop short, and nearly smacked into his rump.

“Here now,” Hooves remarked. “Do you hear that? I do believe it sounds like…music?”

“Ooo,” Derpy commented, “it sounds pretty!”

“Fascinating…let us investigate!”

With only hazy images through the building at the corner to guide them, the two rounded a bend and encountered two mares in the street. One, a white unicorn with a shock of blue mane and sporting curiously inappropriate thick sunglasses at night, was beatboxing and tapping out a rhythm in the dirt. The other, a grey earth pony with a well-groomed raven mane, was playing, of all things, a cello.

“You know,” the musical grey pony paused, “while I acquiesce that this worked well at the wedding and I wholeheartedly support your idea of helping to make our fellows feel at peace through music, I hesitate to consider spitting and kicking up clumps of dust to qualify as an appropriate means by which to soothe the savage beast.”

The white unicorn only shrugged and spat out another series of surprisingly rhythmic beats. The grey earth mare sighed.

“I can’t ever get you to be quiet at home, and now that we’re in this situation you have nothing to say? Honestly.”

Hooves, ever curious, inserted himself into the conversation. “Excuse me madam, but may I inquire as to how you came across such a…tangible affectation?”

Octavia turned her attention abruptly towards Hooves and removed her bow from the strings. “I didn’t ‘come across’ it. It’s my personal instrument. I was playing it in the living room at the time, and we recently acquired a mirror for the mantle. And then all this,” she pointed the bow at the domed barrier above, “nonsense has taken me from my practice. Honestly. The idea that I would ‘ship’ myself just because some old nursery rhyme demands it.”

Vinyl Scratch broke up her rhythm just long enough to loudly kiss her own hoof a few times and blow it at Octavia. She grinned; her expression strengthening when the classical pony shrunk a bit.

“D-don’t talk to other ponies about that,” Octavia blushed, “I still say it’s your fault it didn’t work. A-and besides,” Octavia was glancing at Hooves and Derpy out of the corner of her eye, “I could just as easily tell a them ponies what you tried shortly after we arrived here. Rutabagas are not intended for such purposes.”

Vinyl’s shades slipped down and she peered at everypony from overtop of them, blushing in her own right.

“Yes yes, never mind that,” Hooves interjected. “May I say that the rhyme and meter of that piece was particularly compelling.”

Octavia raised a brow and huffed proudly. “I…well, thank you. It was, wasn’t it?”

“Indeed!” the doctor grinned, suddenly confident. “Tell me, are you familiar with the concept of mathematical theory as applied to music?”

Octavia blinked and flicked an ear. “Music has no axiomatic foundation in modern mathematics.”

The good doctor’s jaw nearly phased through the sidewalk. Variables and equations were again like pink elephants on parade before his eyes. He considered them, tracing them from end to end like a proper mathematician, until they congealed into a gooey mass of sugary-sweet warmth in his mind, leaving behind nothing but a heart wreathing the musical mare’s face. He smiled stupidly.

“Ah, but mathematics is the basis of sound, my dear! The attempt to structure and communicate new ways of composing and hearing music has led to musical applications of set theory, abstract algebra and number theory. Some composers have incorporated the golden ratio and Fibonacci numbers into their work. Why, I myself have even composed a melody or two when inspiration strikes!”

Derpy was examining other ponies wandering the street while at the same time staring up at the moon. “Wow Doc, that’s heavy. The last time you talked like that, you asked me for 1.21 gigawatts of electricity, but I dunno what a gigawatt is.”

“Weight has nothing to do with it!” Hooves declared. He broke Octavia’s personal space bubble and touched her on the shoulder. “Please! I insist that we engage in the concept known as ‘jamming’!”

“You…you what?” Octavia, taken aback, withered under Hooves’s piercing gaze and dapper smile. “You can’t be serious. You don’t even have an instrument.” Vinyl opened her mouth, but Octavia pointed her bow accusingly at the electronic mare. “No spitting!”

Vinyl Scratch stuck her lower lip out and sat back. Derpy patted her on the head and engaged her in a one-sided conversation about the Equestrian postal service.

“Ah, but I do!” Hooves went on. “Believe it or not, I was actually quite the young vocalist back in my Manehatten East Bend Colts’ Choir days. Here then, here,” he cleared his throat dramatically and stood up tall. “Da da da DUM da da DUM dat da dat DAH! Dum dum da da da da dat da DAT da!”

Vinyl cringed. Derpy winced. Octavia beamed.

“Why, with form and structure like that, perhaps…” The grey earth mare touched her bow to the strings of her cello and strung out a melody to match the intensely logical collection of random notes the doctor had put forth. Her tune was more like actual music, but it somehow complimented the strange concoction of mathematical sound.”

“Great whickering stallions!” Hooves cried, rearing up and kicking the air with his forelegs. “It’s like an equation of pure sound!” Desperately he tried to catch up with the runaway freight train that was his mind, “Square the roots, carry the fours, sine the cosines, and….AND—!”

They played. Some ponies tapped along. Some covered their ears. Many however, would remember the bizarre pentameter for years to come; its perfect poise, its romantic yet powerful logicality, and its romantic, incalculable, algebraic grace were the stuff of Ponyville legend.

Octavia sawed away with all the tenacity of a Georgian devil. “Doctor! I demand we collaborate on an album!”

With Astaire in his hooves and an old Casablancan grin on his lips, Doctor Hooves slid up next to his instrumental accompaniment, took her in his arms unabashedly, met her eyes with the unfathomable depths of his own, and forgot all about his days as a fly on the wall or his four left hooves. Quelled, she could only touch the tip of her nose with his and let out her passion in a series of heaving breaths.

“Allons-y!” Hooves cried just before burying himself into his second ever kiss.

POOF

Disappointed, the ponies who had gathered to view the piece of musical history departed until nopony was left on the side street except Vinyl Scratch and Derpy. The inexplicable sound of cricketsong, which may or may not have even been real, met with a soft breeze that scattered dust down the street.

“Gee, that was kinda pretty,” Derpy mused. One of her eyes caught the pensive look on Vinyl’s face – the unicorn was just lying in the dirt, her chin supported in her hooves, watching the spot where her friend disappeared. With a huff and a scattering of dust, the grey pegasus plopped thoughtfully down on her rump beside the other pony.

“You tease her sometimes, huh?”

Vinyl nodded.

“And she teases you.”

Vinyl nodded again.

“But you really kinda like her, huh.”

The unicorn nodded a third time. She looked up at Derpy from behind her sunglasses. Honest, exposed magenta eyes seemed a little distant. For a time, the two just sat there, silently musing on their predicament by the light of the high moon.

“Do you like muffins?” Derpy finally inquired, her lazy eye drifting off in another direction. “I like the blueberry ones the best. When I get home I’m gonna finish the ones I left in the tub. Muffins taste better in the tub. They get soggy though. I eat ‘em fast.”

Vinyl laid there, and said nothing. Derpy smiled a silly smile.

“You want some too? You can come over if you want to. You seem nice.”

The unicorn let out a small sigh.

“You know what? I really like electronic music. And strawberries.”

Derpy found herself flat on her back so fast, she couldn’t say which one of her eyes was getting a view of the stars. The other, however, was filled with the grinning visage of the white unicorn with the shock of blue mane, who was now firmly above; her hooves planted to either side of Derpy’s head.

A pair of sunglasses with purple lenses clattered to the ground. Vinyl Scratch waggled her eyebrows.

POOF