A word with Miss Strudel
A lull in the conversation was reached and Sundance ate in silence as he pondered the immensity of the task set before him. Twilight called it evolved feudalism, but for Sundance, he merely thought of it as what feudalism should have always been. Equestria’s feudalism was unique, a standard for the rest of the world to follow. At least on paper. In practice, things had gone a bit off. For all of the glory it had in the past, now it was just another boring subject in school.
How did they get to where they were? Sundance thought about this while eating a hayburger that was still piping hot. The bun? Toasty, even crispy, and not in the least bit soggy. Two centuries of tumultuous social change. One by one, the big cities on the coasts deposed their nobles, or were abandoned by their nobles. As something that resembled democracy took hold, insurrection and rebellion tore the nation into tatters. Equestria’s Civil War tore down all of the old institutions and then with the nation left in rubble and ruin, things sort of ground to a halt. Nothing better came along to replace what had once been. The Reconstruction became the age of stagnation, though many argued that it was the most stable time of Equestria’s long history.
And now, Twilight Sparkle was about to shake things up.
Momentous social change had forced her hoof and Sundance found himself aligned with her. How had it come to this? He was nopony special, yet here he was having lunch with the architect of the new era. It was absurd, really—yet he could not deny that he felt good about all of this. It was certainly better than doing nothing at all, though he suspected that he would go grey early in his life because of his commitment to Twilight’s cause.
A worn, battered copy of Equestrian Feudalism and the Covenant of the Three Tribes sat upon the table. Sundance wasn’t sure when the book had shown up, but it was there now. He’d read it in school, but couldn’t remember any of it. Fancy Pants had mentioned the book and had said something about a revival. Sundance recalled seeing the leaderboard for the first time, and the glorious, stunning spectacle of it all.
Then, quite unexpectedly…
It started with a faint tickle of the nose, a physical sensation in his gut that something was wrong, and then Sundance heard Twilight whinny. A second later, Miss Strudel also whinnied, which was followed up with her covering her mouth with both front hooves. Twilight gagged, threw her head back, and gagged a second time. Sundance got a faint whiff of something foul, something unpleasant, a hint of something rather stinky.
Tears ran down Miss Strudel’s cheeks and Twilight’s eyes were glassy. Sundance knew that something was wrong, but he wasn’t sure what it was, or what it might be. He sniffed a few times, his head turning this way and that way—but other than a faint trace of stinkiness, he couldn’t determine what caused both Twilight and Miss Strudel to react the way they were. Sure, something smelled, but it seemed so faint.
“I can taste it!” Miss Strudel cried.
“Me too,” Twilight said, “me too.”
“I don’t think the new formula agrees with her!”
“And I am inclined to agree.” Then, Twilight’s bleary, watery eyes focused upon Sundance. “How are you not phased by this? This… this is awful! How can you just sit there like that?”
“I hardly smell anything at all,” he replied.
“How can you not smell THAT?” demanded Miss Strudel.
Sundance shrugged, but was privately thankful that he was immune to the face-melting stench.
There was a faint bassoon note that caused Sundance’s ears to prick. Twilight moaned and fanned the air with her wings. Meanwhile, the filly was still sound asleep in her crib, utterly undisturbed by the mayhem she was responsible for. A rather skittish Twilight lept from her chair, cautiously crept closer to the crib, and stretching her neck out, she had a look inside. Immediately, she jerked her head back.
“Oh no,” she murmured, “it’s a poopsplosion. The dreaded poo-bomb. You’ll have to excuse me while I go clean this up. Please, talk to each other. Get to know one another. I won’t be gone long.”
Before Sundance could respond, Twilight vanished and so did the crib.
Alone now with the pretty, bespectacled mare, Sundance became rather nervous. Why? He didn’t know why. His confidence wavered—which he didn’t like at all—and he wanted that feeling of confidence to return. Twilight wanted them to talk, so that seemed like the obvious course of action. But what to say? Was he afraid right now? That might very well be the case, which meant that he had to learn how to control his fear at all costs, so his reason wouldn’t abandon him.
“I was that dorky loner in school that couldn’t talk to nopony. How about you?”
Miss Strudel panicked; she seemed caught off guard by Sundance’s question. Her ears stood straight, pivoted forwards, and behind her eyeglasses, her left eyelid twitched alarmingly. “Oh”—her voice cracked and turned husky—“I was that skinny egghead that ate lunch alone.”
It was awful, and Sundance could sympathise. “I ate a lot of lunches alone. Sack lunches. Didn’t have enough money to get a hot lunch from the cafeteria.”
“Me too. Not that I’d want to get food from the school cafeteria. It was a special kind of awful.” After a deep breath, Miss Strudel relaxed a bit, as evidenced by her ears returning to a more neutral position. When she smiled, however, it was a nervous one. “There was a fifteen bean chili that was kinda good, but it caused so much disruption in the classroom later that afternoon.”
“What sort of school feeds students a fifteen bean chili?” asked Sundance.
There was a snort, a bit of hoarse whickering, and then Miss Strudel whinnied with laughter. Right away she tried to contain herself, embarrassed with a reddened face for some reason, but her mirth could not be contained. It was the dorkiest of nerdy laughs and Sundance found it quite enchanting. Miss Strudel struggled with her laughter, but it would not be held back, would not be contained. Her muffled giggle-snorts were cute, appealing even, and Sundance found the sound pleasing to his ears. It was the sort of laugh that one might hear in school, and the sound took him on a backwards journey through time.
“I knew a pegasus in school”—her voice wavered with laughter, it rose and fell in pitch—“and his name was Wind Streaker. He regularly caused an evacuation of the classroom. One day, he shows up in class with a note from the doctor. He has a medical condition, a problem with pressure at low altitude. Poor guy, he had it bad. We all teased him for the streaky wind he left behind.”
“When I was a colt, I had this thing I’d do with my wings where I would act like I was deflating when I… you know. Did that. I thought I was so funny because my father laughed. Nopony else thought it was funny.”
“Parents laugh at things that aren’t funny.”
“I know, right?” Without knowing that he did it, Sundance smiled. “My father, he’s a quiet type. He hardly says a word. So when he laughed, I thought it had to be the funniest thing ever, and I even worked on my routine in the mirror. I’d hold my wings out and up, all nice and high, stretched out as far as I could get them, and then I’d work on my timing and pacing. An unbelievable amount of effort was put into that silliness. I took it so seriously.”
“I am convinced that some of us are rather brilliant, and it shows up while we’re in school. But our classmates aren’t brilliant. They’re just kinda boring and normal. Being boring and normal, they don’t see our brilliance. We try to be smart, or funny, or clever, and we get made fun of, and then we stop doing what makes us brilliant, and we conform, and the brilliance goes away.”
This was sobering to think about, and left Sundance filled with questions.
“Just imagine what the world might be like if we brilliant ones ran into somepony that appreciated what we did and told us to stick with what we do. If only our gifts that made us special and set us apart could survive into adulthood. Now, I can’t act silly without worrying about being shamed for it, and just the very idea of acting foolish in front of others fills me with anxiety.”
“I know what you mean,” Sundance said to her. He did know, and it bothered him in some vague way that he failed to understand. Perhaps it was best to put school behind him, and live life as if his time in school had no bearing. Easier said than done though. School had not prepared him for his adult life—quite the opposite. It was his genealogy project that prepared him for his adult life, and now, he needed to sort out what sort of adult he was.
“Your olfactory fortitude is impressive, I must say.”
Unsure of what this meant, he remained silent.
“You were totally unphased by the diaper-bomb,” she said to explain herself.
“Oh, that.” He nodded. “I am the Lord of Rotten Egglünd. My barony stinks.”
“Exciting.” Miss Strudel seemed nervous now. “And I’ll be visiting regularly to work with you. Oh… joy… I guess…”
“You get used to it.” Given Miss Strudel’s current state of upset, he found himself trying to reassure her. “I mean, you stay for a while and then you barely notice at it all. Smells just like rotten eggs. Really, really bad eggs.”
“Lots of hot springs?”
“We have hot springs, mudpots, vents, geysers, fumaroles, boiling lakes, and bubbling bogs. Seriously, there are vents in the bogs that look and sound just like buttholes—”
Miss Strudel snorted, and then began to giggle.
“I sometimes perch in a tree and watch. The bog buttholes spew out mud and make all kinds of rude noises.” He sighed, thought about his own words, and shook his head. “That’s what I do for entertainment now. There’s like nothing else to do but watch the bog buttholes.”
“When I come to visit, you’ll have to show me.”
“Alright, I can do that.” Though still nervous, Sundance was impressed by how well he was dealing with all of this. Miss Strudel actually seemed to like him. At least, she didn’t seem to detest him. Her smile seemed sincere enough, and her laughter seemed honest.
He was almost certain that he’d made a friend.
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I can't be the only one thinking of this.
https://youtu.be/lG__upqGgRY
Baron O' Bogholes reigns supreme
Also I liked the bit about the schools. Besides the brilliance related reality check it was an adorable way to handle awkward shit-silence.
The Baron of Stink is not impressed.
One that is run by idiots, sadists, or people who are nose blind. Sounds delicious, though. And, honestly, if you eat high fiber diets regularly, the body adjusts and it isn't a problem. But there is an adjustment period...
At least it is free entertainment.
and a new friendship is formed over a stanch boom.
Bonding over butts, what what?
Why do you say lünd, instead of land?
9974169
An attempt to make the statement Read in a German accent probably.
9974169
hrwiki.org/w/images/c/cb/rottenegglund.png
9974513
This is ecactly what we needed without knowing we needed it
There ya go, Sun.
Why would mentioning school distress people?
9974701
Some people have bad memories of school as the most awkward, most unbearable moment of their lives.
9974701
Because for some of us school was a special kind of Tartarus.
9975039
Oh, they'll be free to leave, and there will be a focus on education just for that purpose. After all, it is important to keep the option of choice open.
How... Vulgar.
9974701
To Kudzu: YOu did a good job not going too deep and triggering me at least, with me TERRIBLE and TRAUMATIC memories of HS
Maybe it was that I had Suicidal Ideation in High School more times than I can count? That I felt hopeless? One of my friends punched me the face, and yet AFTER that I was the one who was made fun of for that by my FRIENDS. I had a kid spit on my backpack trying to bully me in HS. Threatened to beat me up after school all the time. I had a group of kids near my school surround me and try to beat me up, fortunately I did a wrist escape an that made them all scared of me. My school was so great a student once threw a metal chair by the teacher. The only reason things weren't worse for me, was I had a carefully cultivated reputation of being a dangerous pyro. Hell I was bullied even before school. Lots of social isolation and less than ideal friends.
Most people I know had TERRIBLE times in High School at least. Like..."Oh hey are you geeky and NOT a jock or cheerleader? Fuck you!"
An don't get me started about how I had to bury myself deep in the closet, because I was a social outcast enough, without going to the Gay Straight Alliance painting a giant target on my back. I can't even imagine how much better my life would have turned out, if I had friends who were cool and helpful with me being Trans. But no...that's not how HIgh School in the early 2000s worked.
I LITERALLY wanted to die, because I saw no real hope for my future. Hence why I dreamed about dying and/or suicide a TON.
So yes. Some of us do NOT want to be overly reminded of some of the WORT moments in our lives.
9974761
I know I did as it was not a pleasant time. But I was made stronger cause of it. Words do not hurt or offend me and I know how to defend myself.