• Published 23rd Apr 2017
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Magic School Days - Dogger807



When the CMC asked Discord to help them attend magic school, he pulled an owl out of his hat. Only he didn't exactly have a hat. Which was okay, since their new school had a singing one laying around. Where the hay was Hogwarts anyway?

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Chapter 77: Chocolate Mint Confections

Author's Note:

The story has been getting a bit heavy lately so, I thought I'd put down the outline and write a lighter bonus chapter.

Please enjoy.

As she looked over the holly and tinsel that decorated her shop, Mystic Books sighed. It was time for a cup of cheer, or perhaps just a jigger; it would not do to start the workday inebriated. Hearth's Warming was mere days away, so she had no expectations of any customers until after that holiday. Specializing in components was both a blessing and a curse. Since ponies used her wares to make custom presents, her holiday customers came in weeks earlier than they would for an ordinary retailer. Conversely, her holiday sales tapered off weeks earlier than they did for an ordinary retailer. So, close to the holiday, the best she could hope for was a panicked hobbyist shopping for a replacement for a critical component that they had installed in just the wrong way.

The melodic jangle of sleigh bells startled her from her reverie as her first, and quite possibly last, customer of the day stumbled through her door.

Mystic rushed over to help the fallen unicorn. With a smile, she said, "Bonjour. Welcome to Enchantment Essentials."

Unsteadily, the unicorn rose to her hooves. "What?" Turning to Mystic, she struggled to focus. "Is this Essentially Enchanted?"

"Assez proche." Mystic Books eyed the unicorn critically. “If you do not mind me saying, you look à l’ouest, er, frazzled. Is everything all right.”

“What?” The unicorn appeared startled by the words. She shook her head before focusing on Mystic. “Yes. Yes. I’m okay. I’ve just had an unbelievable night. Luckily, I have a day off today.”

“You do look as if you could use the break,” Mystic said.

“I don't know how much more I can take. This is my last stop before I can go home and have some liquid stress relief.”

“That doesn’t sound good.” Mystic pursed her lips. “Perhaps it would be better if you talk about it instead.”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.” Mystic trotted behind the counter and retrieved two shot glasses and a green bottle of creme de menthe decorated with a festive red ribbon and bow. She might not be getting a sale, but playing bartender could still make the day profitable in a different way.

“I don’t know where to begin,” the unicorn said, staggering along until she could lean on the other side of the counter. “My last day at work was already all kinds of crazy.”

“Work can be stressful,” Mystic agreed.

"No argument here. The weirdness meter wrapped its needle just when I was about to head for home." The mare greedily eyed the bottle. “There I was, minding my own business, dreaming about my bed when a filly appeared in front of me in a ball of flames.”

Mystic gasped in horror. “Comme c’est terrible. I hope she wasn’t badly hurt.”

“No, she was completely unscathed. She was using the fire to travel.”

“You can do that?” Mystic asked.

“Apparently, yes.” The unicorn took the proffered shot glass and took a verdant sip and sighed. “She asked me if I was a doctor. When I said yes, she grabbed me and teleported us.” She slurped a bit more. “I should mention, she was a human filly. If I hadn’t spent the prior eight hours in the presence of a human stallion, I probably would have freaked out.”

“A human filly?” Mystic took a sip of her own. “I had a human mare in my shop recently, so I do have some reference.”

“Would you believe the human stallion was more likable than our own Dr. Splint?”

“Oui, that is not hard to imagine. The mare I met was amiable.”

“Anyway, the filly took me to a human hospital. She wanted my help saving the life of a stallion who had been attacked by a vicious animal. The human healers were fighting a losing battle, and she thought I might be the push they needed, differing medical backgrounds and all that.”

“Please tell me you were able to make the difference.” Mystic would have been on the edge of her seat if she weren’t standing.

“I can’t make that claim. If it weren’t for the phoenix, we would have lost the patient.”

“I can see why you found that stressing,” Mystic confessed.

The unicorn took another sip. “That’s part of the job and all. Unfortunately, we can’t save everypony. It hurts like Tartarus each time, but it's something you have to learn to live with or find another line of work.”

“You are a better mare than I,” Mystic said.

“Hardly,” the unicorn said. “Anyway, they offered me a cot to sleep through the night, since the filly who had brought me had disappeared with her friends. Things were mostly uneventful. Well uneventful in the sense that things had become non- life-threating.”

“I guess being in a hospital full of humans would be exciting,” Mystic said.

“The humans were perfectly welcoming.” A shake of her head preceded another sip.

“Then what?”

“Have you ever heard of the Element of Laughter? Pinkie Pie?”

“Of course, I have,” Mystic said.

“The rumors don’t do her justice.” The unicorn shook her head. “Not by a long shot.”

“Oh,” Mystic said. “I suppose you didn’t get much sleep.”

“I got plenty. I just woke up to a bunch of frosted human healers.”

“The heater broke?” Mystic asked.

“No, I meant with rainbow sprinkles and a cherry on top.” The unicorn emptied her shot glass.

“She really does that?” Mystic shuddered. “Ponyville must go through shampoo like crazy.”

“Anyway, the filly who had brought me had come and gone while I slept. I had no idea how I was getting home.

“Well, you’re here now, so I assume you thought of something,” Mystic said.

“The healers directed me to a friend of the first filly by the name of Lavender Brown.”

“I’ve met her,” Mystic said. “Talk about having parents without even a hint of imagination when it comes to choosing names.”

“Yeah, well, she has an owl that she can use to send things, even ponies.”

“I’ve met it,” Mystic said.

“Well, she asked me to stop by and order three more packages like the others she has already gotten. That’s why I’m here; she’ll pick them up in a couple days if that’s all right.”

“Oui, I know what she wants.” Mystic refilled both shot glasses. Her guest already looking steadier. “That doesn’t explain why you looked so frazzled. The ride in the owl’s pouch couldn’t have been that bad.”

“She said she was mailing me to a friend she has in Canterlot,” the unicorn said with more than a hint of bitterness.

“I thought you wanted to return to Canterlot,” Mystic said.

“SHE MAILED ME TO THE PRINCESS!”

Mystic lost her grip on the bottle and it fell to the counter gleefully spreading its green goodness.

“I’m not even sure which one!” the unicorn continued. “All three were there having breakfast!”

Mystic’s jaw dropped next.

“They asked if I wanted to eat with them!”

Mystic’s rump found the ground.

“By the way, the princesses want four additional packages put together.”

“You must be joking,” Mystic said softly.

“Nope, and Princess Celestia said if you have a problem with Lavender’s promissory notes because the filly doesn’t have a cutie mark, not to worry and just talk to Raven. Apparently, the filly is good for it.”

“Arrêtez de raconter des salades; that cannot be,” Mystic said with more force.

“Nope, she dumped me right in the princesses’ private quarters without so much as a warning. I hope you have something stronger back there.”

Mystic brought out a mason jar filled with clear liquid. “Tout à fait.”


It should have come as no surprise that Twilight Sparkle had no problem shrinking the new greenhouse on the Apple farm to a manageable size. Now that it was at the proper scale, it leant a rustic ambiance to an already picturesque venue. The lightly trampled snow that surrounded it emphasized that this was a working farm, not some noblepony's playground. A pony could be forgiven for thinking that it was a symbol of bucolic bliss.

*Crash!*

*Aaaaaa!*

That same pony could be forgiven for fleeing in panic when forcibly reminded that the Crusaders were home for winter break.

The sleeping tree experienced deja vu as a collision on its trunk resolved the small orange blur, which had just shattered a large pane, into a pegasus filly. This time, there was no shower of snow to mark her arrival. It seemed like just yesterday a much larger orange filly had ended her flight in the same way.

“Watch it!” The voice of another filly came from the newly formed egress. “It’s gotten loose.”

An unearthly voice, something between a roar and a gargled hiss, vehemently protested.

“To tha left! To tha left! Everypony to tha left!”

The ground shook as something heavy lashed out and missed.

“Mah left!”

Scootaloo launched herself from the dozing tree, dodging a clay pot her opponent had thrown at her as she zipped through the now-empty frame, back into the fray.

“It’s got the fertilizer!”

*Crash!*

Another pane disintegrated as Ron made another exit, rolling along the ground like a bowling ball.

“Ron! Go git a flame thrower!”

“On it!” Ron got up, shook himself and started galloping in the direction of the farmhouse. He passed the ponies running from his destination, intent on seeing what was causing the ruckus.

The chilling howl came again.

“It’s got me!” screamed a panicking filly.

“I’m coming Ginny!” Percy shouted, diving into the building without a thought for his own safety.

The glass ceiling was finally broken by a small red bundle with a blonde mane.

“I'm okay!” Ginny called out as she reached her apex. A rainbow-colored blur saved her from the inevitable letdown.

“What the buck is that!” Gracious Tact demanded, following Percy. “It’s huge!”

“To tha right! To tha right!”

Bristle gave the greenhouse some more ventilation before landing with a whump.

“Mah right! Dang it! Ain’t nopony going ta bother ta listen?!”

“What in tarnation!” Applejack demanded, leaping into the building.

The howl came again.

“All first-years out!” Percy yelled. “Incendio!” The glow of flames could be seen through the glass.

“To tha left! To tha left!”

*Crash!*

Dainty Lace was glad Rainbow Dash kept her from becoming the mare who fell to Equestria.

“Am Ah talking to mahself!?”

A crate smashed through another pane.

“Y'all heard Percy! Out!” Applejack shouted.

*Crash!*

Percy made another involuntary exit.

“That thar was an exclamation point not a comma!” Applejack shouted.

“To tha left! To tha left!”

*Crash!*

It was Applejack’s turn to be caught by Rainbow Dash.

“Really! Are Y'all yanking my tail?!”

Rainbow had just deposited Applejack on the ground when Ron came running up with a firefighter's fickle friend, pointing away from anything valuable.

“Gimme that!” Applejack said, claiming the load for herself as she transformed into her bipedal form. “It’s got mah hat!”

“To tha right! To tha right!”

*Crash!*

Gracious Tact found a higher calling.

“You all should start listening to her,” Rainbow growled, leaping into the air.

“Ah said out, Apple Bloom!” Applejack called out as she reentered the building. More flames could be seen.

Apple Bloom looked over her shoulder as she rushed out with Scootaloo at her side. “To tha right! To tha right!”

*Crash!*

A collection of tanks and tubes rocketed straight up, and Rainbow kept her distance as it erupted into a ball of flames.

“Ah give up!” Apple Bloom shouted. “Ron we’re going ta need another flame thrower!”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake,” Ron growled, turning to run back toward the farmhouse.

“Gimme mah hat ya fireproof varmint!”

With a crack, Fenton’s wife, Sandra, apparated onto the field. “Are you kidding me?!” she called out as she rushed into the greenhouse, followed closely by Rainbow Dash. A violet flash cleared their path.

The unearthly sounds abruptly stopped. The gathered ponies watched from a distance as another violet flash illuminated the scene. Yet a third violet flash illuminated Ron as he sprinted back, careful to keep his finger out of the trigger guard. Soon after, three ponies -- Applejack, Rainbow Dash, and Sandra -- came trotting over.

“That was seventh year herbology all over again,” Sandy growled. “Where did you get it? They can get irritable when they are potted incorrectly.”

“It was in with the starter plants.” Ginny said.

“Are you serious?!” Sandy shouted. “Let me see the invoice.”

“Here ya go,” Apple Bloom said, hoofing a sheet of paper from her bow.

Sandra read through, line by line. “Someone seriously messed up your order. It’s illegal to sell those to anyone who doesn't have a N.E.W.T. in herbology.”

“I’m rethinking getting a herbology N.E.W.T.,” Percy said.

“You are not getting a herbology N.E.W.T.,” Dainty Lace affirmed with conviction.

“Next question,” Rainbow Dash said, pointing a hoof at Ron’s weapon and raising an eyebrow.

“Those?” Apple Bloom said. “We’ve had ta keep them hidden in a trunk ever since they got banned. We neva even got the chance ta test them.”

“One word,” Rainbow said. “And that word is ‘gimme’.”

“Sure,” Apple Bloom said. “We have spares, Y'all can have one.”

“Ah think Ah’m going to start a collection of 'em. As in all of 'em.” Applejack said firmly.

“Awwww!” the foals chorused.

“Is that a foal running toward us?” Sandy said, pointing a hoof.

“It’s Daphne,” Scootaloo said. “I wonder what she wants.”

“One way to find out,” Rainbow said before she zipped over, scooped up Daphne, and returned to her starting point in three seconds flat.

“What’s up Daphne?” Apple Bloom asked.

“R . . . Rarity needs you,” the breathless filly said. “Sweetie tried . . . cake . . . Code Black!”

Rainbow Dash and Applejack looked at each other then made a mad dash towards town. Rainbow came back a few seconds later to deposit Daphne next to the rest of the foals before taking off again after patting her head.

“She can’t be that bad of a cook,” Sandy said as the foals started galloping toward town as well. “Hey! Come back! Someone has to reparo the greenhouse!” When nopony listened, she shouted. “All right, but I’m charging holiday rates for this.”


Contrary to popular belief, the Weasley twins could outstudy a Ravenclaw if they were properly motivated. The situation they now faced could cost them everything they knew and loved. Ever conscious of the nooses around their necks, the two pored over an ancient tome, desperate to find a way out of their predicament.

The sitting room in the trunk had been set up as the ultimate study space. The silencing charm had been the first step in their study preparation. They had carefully stowed all distractions and set the couch cushions to allow both of them to study the book from a comfortable position. Light, bland snacks kept hunger at bay.

With their attentions focused on the task at hand, the dust that gathered around them went unnoticed until a sneezing fit alerted them to its presence. Looking up, they could see the lid of the trunk silently vibrating like the head of a bass drum. Hastily, Fred threw the couch back together and hastily shoved the book under a cushion while George raced up the stairs, cancelling the charm as he went.

“Granny Smith,” he said after lifting the lid. “Did you need us for something?”

Looking up, the mare said, "My, yer a tall drink a water. Ah, figured Ah would come see what y'all were up to, being that the commotion outside didn’t raise a squeak out of ya.” The elderly mare barged past George, forcing him to flatten himself against the wall.

“We’re just doing some research,” Fred said.

“What type o research might that be?” Granny asked, taking in the cluttered sitting room. “Anything ta do with all them fillies y'all got hanging on yer every word?”

The twins shared a look before Fred said, “They're nothing like the witches back at Hogwarts.”

George added, “We aren’t sure how to handle the mess we have gotten ourselves into.”

Fred groaned, "I just don't know what went wrong."

"At least yer smart enough to realize yer in over yer head,” Granny said, sitting in one of the comfy chairs. “Care to explain exactly what y'all were thinking, making promises like that?”

The twins shared another look. “We may have gotten advice that is proving detrimental to our current objectives,” George said.

“Would it happen to be from that book yer trying to hide beneath that thar cushion?”

The twins groaned when they saw they had left the job half done.

“Well hoof it here,” Granny said, gesturing with a forehoof.

George grimaced but obeyed.

Granny smacked her lips and squinted at the cover. “Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches?” She said, “This oughtta be good. Sonny, go get mah reading glasses. They're by mah rocker.”

“Yes Granny,” George said, making his way up the stairs.

“Where did ya get this?” Granny asked.

“It's a Gryffindor heirloom that's traditionally 'borrowed' from the seventh-year boy's prefect as a last resort,” Fred admitted. “We may have acquired it a little earlier than is the norm.”

“Ah see. An’ how does it do fer the witches?”

“Don't believe the title; there's no magic in it,” Fred said. “We think witches change their tastes as they get older because the number of slaps we receive decrease the higher in years our test subjects are.”

“Test subjects?” Granny said, turning the book over in her hooves. She waited in silence for a response, even after George returned with her glasses. Seeing that no answers were forthcoming, she wore the glasses and opened the book to the largest bookmark.

The twins fidgeted and nervously watched, unsure how to react as she silently moved her lips.

“Ooo weee,” Granny whistled. “If’n the rest is as bad as this little bit . . .” She closed the book. “Ah’ll tell ya what, it won’t take no twelve ways to charm no fillies if ya go with this here book. Y'all will be beating them off with sticks jus’ so ya kin take a breath.”

“We’ve come to the same conclusion,” Fred said.

“We’ve decided to lay low for a couple days,” George added.

“Ah reckon y'all kin lay low enough. I bet half the fillies in town think you're husbands on the hoof, and the other half are just waitin' for a chance to rope y'all in."”

“Percy already has to tell Mum he got married before finishing his O.W.L.S.,” George said.

“We want to see if he survives before we stick our heads out of this trunk,” Fred finished.

“An’ here Ah thought that Apple Bloom dun said the members of yer house were supposed to be brave.”

“There's brave, and then there's bloody suicidal,” George said.

“Mum can be scary.” Fred nodded.


The foals skidded to a halt in front of Carousel Boutique. The screams could be heard clearly over the calm basso profundo voice that kept repeating, "Code Black . . . Code Black . . . Code Black . . ."

“Woah!” Ginny exclaimed.

Between gasps, Daphne huffed, "What . . . is it . . . with Sweetie and . . . animating things . . . that have no . . . business moving?"

“You really need to join us for our exercise program,” Ron noted smugly.

“Aaaaaaaa!” a cherry red mare screamed.

“That’s just like that weird cartoon the colts were watching,” Scootaloo said, backing away.

“It’s got me!” a grey mare shrieked.

“Look, here comes Sweetie,” Ginny said as the filly in question scampered up to them, eyes wide in panic.

“Bad touch! Bad Touch!” a two-toned mare wailed.

“I’m so glad to see you guys!” Sweetie gasped as she all but jumped onto Apple Bloom’s back. “I guess I should have left the basil out.”

Scootaloo squinted. "Is that thing an octopus?"

"M . . . more like a ce . . . ce . . . centipus," replied Sweetie.

“Get on the left. Rainbow Dash!” Applejack yelled.

“See, they listen to her.” Apple Bloom waved an accusatory hoof.

“My mane!” Rarity wailed.

“Now would be a great time to break out the flame throwers,” Ron suggested.

“No! No! No!” a pink mare screamed.

“Ah think we’re going ta let the grown-ups handle this one.” Apple Bloom noted.

“Who uses alfalfa sprouts with chocolate?!” Pinkie complained as she preemptively ate out the cake monster's tufts.

“I’m going to have to agree with Apple Bloom on this one,” Ginny said, taking a step backwards.

“You’re not allowed to watch anime anymore,” said Scootaloo as she glared at Sweetie.

“Sweet Celestia! Get it off me!” a tan mare pleaded.

“I’ve never watched any anime,” Sweetie protested.

“Mr. Dessert, sir, would you mind putting all of my friends down?”

“So,” Ron said, “no flame throwers, then?”

“Pinkie! Where is your frosting when we need it?” Rainbow called out.

“Ah repeat, the grown-ups kin get this one.”

“I used it all up last night,” Pinkie answered.

“Besides, there's something way to fishy about all this,” Scootaloo added.

“It’s not even Tuesday!” an orange mare wailed.

“I know I’m not a Gryffindor and all, but I really don't think this is a good place for us kids,” Daphne said.

“You did not just do that!” an ivory colored mare snapped.

"We let the grown-ups handle this?" asked Sweetie.

“Cutie Mark Crusader Delegators!” Ginny announced.

“Yay!”

As they began their tactical withdrawal, Sweetie began to sing.

"That cake, it started with some flour, quiet plain. Next came eggs, cocoa powder and sweet sugar cane . . ."

The combatants provided background vocals to complement the fading melody. To everypony's surprise, the cake monster started moving to the throbbing beat.


Sleigh bells rang as a pair of mares entered Bon Bon's confectionary. The unexpected sound startled the young colt who was struggling to load a taffy puller as he precariously balanced on a stool. With a yelp, he fell onto the gooey blob, accidentally turning the machine to full speed as he futilely flailed his hooves. The mares watched, amused, as the poor colt was transformed into a pegasus paddle ball. No matter how hard he tried to break free, the taffy would pull him back to the waiting arms of the puller. The rapid rotations sent him flying away, restarting the cycle.

Quickly, Bon Bon punched the emergency stop button.

With great effort, Harry dragged himself toward the door, only to be slammed into it when the taffy finally broke. “I’m okay,” he managed to get out.

The first mare looked up. “He’s a Crusader, isn’t he?”

“Yes.” Bon Bon stood behind the counter as she face-hoofed. “Lyra, I’m going to need you to come cast scourgify!”

“What?” Lyra called from the back. “Again?”

“Yes, and while you’re at it make sure the safety spells on the taffy puller haven’t worn off.”

“I see he’s practicing,” the second mare in stated.

“He’s got a long way to go,” the first mare grumbled.

“Is that a bad thing?” the second mare asked.

“Um, why are you two covered with cake crumbs?” Bon Bon queried.

“Don’t ask,” said the first mare.

“Sweetie Belle tried to bake a cake,” said the second.

“I see.” Bon Bon nodded knowingly. “Were there flames involved?”

“That would have been a marked improvement,” said the first mare.

“We’re going to be needing a couple boxes of liquor-filled bon bons,” said the second.

"We'll take a bottle, too," said the first. "Or eight."

Everypony turned to the thump that came from the door. It was decorated with the outline of a colt, made with hastily-gnawed taffy. Harry said as he ate the mess off his coat, "This stuff is great! Kinda high in fiber, though."


Experience had turned the tide outside the Carousel Boutique. Once free of the heart song, the mares had been able to launch an all-out attack before the cake monster could recover. As with every Code Black, the worst was yet to come, the fallout.

“Cake should not be able to do that,” Vanilla Cream said.

Pinkie had somehow gotten her hooves on a whisk that was twice as big as her and was repeatedly pummeling a misshaped mass of what was dessert. “Bad cake! Bad cake! Bad cake!” was her mantra.

“Pinkie! Sugarcube!” Applejack called. “Maybe you should stop beating a dead cake!”

“Why is that even a valid sentence?” Cherry Blush demanded.

Pinkie never stopped her swinging. “I can't help it! I feel so betrayed! Baked bads always make me so angry!”

“Cake should not be able to do that,” Vanilla Cream said.

Rarity addressed a frazzled-looking Mayor Mare. “Darling, you know how you were thinking about offering a tax break for any therapist willing to move into town?”

The mayor nodded dully.

Rarity asked, “Why don’t you go ahead and purchase them a house?”

“Cake should not be able to do that,” Vanilla Cream said.

“An’ offer them a flat yearly salary,” Applejack added. “That way, nopony will have to worry about paying her.”

“The Crusaders will be covering it,” Rainbow said.

“All expenses,” Rarity added.

Glory Rain savored another bite. “Who would have thought chocolate works with hot peppers?”

“Cake should not be able to do that,” Vanilla Cream said.

“Ah’m thinking Vanilla Cream should have dibs on the first appointment,” Applejack said.

“This really could use some frosting,” Taro Root commented.

Pinkie moaned. “I told you; I’m fresh out. I need a break before I can make a fresh batch."

“Cake should not be able to do that,” Vanilla Cream said.

“Does this make us predators?” Hallowed Candle asked.

“I don’t know, but it is an unusually satisfying meal,” Umber Shine said.

“Bleah! Avoid the parts with the flaky purple bits,” Solid Streak said.

“Cake should not be able to do that,” Vanilla Cream said.

“You know, the Crusaders own a fancy hotel now,” Rainbow said.

“It’s a five-star establishment, darling.” Rarity added.

Rainbow Dash mused, “I’m thinking Vanilla could use a week of vacation.”

“Cake should not be able to do that,” Vanilla Cream said.

“Ah’m thinking two, jus’ to make sure,” Applejack said.

“You girls need to try this strange creamy white filling; it’s a bit salty, but satisfying,” Cherry Blush said.

Hallowed Candle looked at the eighth-sheet in front of her. “I’m going to need a doggy bag here.”

“Cake should not be able to do that,” Vanilla Cream said.

“I can’t believe what this cake tried to do,” Taro Root said before she took a vicious bite.

Sitting amid the mess, Mayor Mare replied, "I suppose this is tit for tat."

Rarity begged, “Let us never speak of this again.”

“Cake should not be able to do that,” Vanilla Cream said.

“Okay, I’m done.” Pinkie somehow stowed the giant whisk in her mane. “Pass me a piece with mint.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s cilantro,” Cherry Blush noted.

“Should we be worried that Sweetie Belle made something tasty?” asked Solid Streak.

With difficulty, Hallowed Candle asked, “Anypony got milk?”

“Cake should not be able to do that,” Vanilla Cream said.

“We really should let the rest of the town know it’s safe to come have a bite,” Rainbow Dash said.

“Yeah, they need to get their share before it freezes,” Cherry Blush said.

Hallowed Candle grumbled, “Seriously, I need a glass of milk here.”

Stealthily, a large patch of cake slid off the nearby roof. As it landed on the mare's croup, it gave a gentle caress.

“CAKE SHOULD NOT BE ABLE TO DO THAT!”

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