Sympathy for Discord

by Pony Bones

Special Chapter Twas The Night Before Hearth's Warming

As told by Her Royal Highness Princess Luna

Twas the night before Hearth's Warming and all through the castle not a creature was stirring, why bother the hassle?

The incomprehensible socks were hung by the hearth with care in hopes that Saint Nicker soon would be there.

The foals were nestled all snug in their beds no visions of factories, cupcakes, or sheds, while Celestia in her nightgown and We with Our snacks had just settled our bones for a long winter’s nap.

When out in the courtyard there arose such a ruckus, it sounded like a guard had fell on his tokus.

Away to the window We flew in a flurry and opened the curtains with a quickness and a hurry.

Clinching Our teeth against the freezing slurry, Our moon shone on the new fallen snow giving the luster of midday to the courtyard below.

When what to Our wandering eyes should encroach but a little tiny sled and eight tiny jackalopes.

With a gangly old driver so awkward and boor We knew in an instant it must be King Discord.

More rapid than lightning his coursers they came and he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name.

“Now Slacker, now Smacker, now Flouncer and Trixie! On Grommet on Eunice on Bomber and Schnitzel! To the top of the court to the top of the wall! Now Dashie’s too tall, so just watermelon crawl and be sure you don’t fall!”

Then with an inkling We heard on the roof the stomping and clomping of each little brute.

As We drew in our head and knocked off Our crown down the chimney King Discord came like a clown.

He wore belled spurs on each mismatched foot and his clothes were all sticky with licorice flutes.

A bundle of ploys he had flung on his back and he looked like a hobo covering his tracks.

His eyes how they squinted, his dimples how scary, his cheeks were like boulders, his nose leaked without caring.

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a crow, and the beard on his chin was frosted with snow.

The stump of a pipe he clinched in his fangs and his tail on the hearth had burst into flames.

He had a long face and a tawny, scrawny belly that squirmed as he danced in pain, yelling.

He was uncouth and crass, a right horrid old whelp, and We laughed when We saw him in spite of Ourself.

With a wink of his eye and a twist of his back, soon gave Us to know that We need not attack.

He spoke naught a word but went straight to his work, he filled all the socks with a promiscuous twerk.

Then laying his claw aside of his nose and giving a nod up the chimney he rose.

He stumbled to his sled, to his team gave a whistle, and away they all flew like a delicious down thistle.

We heard him exclaim ere he rode out of sight.

“Happy Hearth's Warming to all, now go fly a kite!”

Author's Note:

A Christmas gift from King Discord himself. My apologies to Mr. Clement Clarke Moore may he rest in peace. It's been a while since I've written, so let me know what you think.

Comments

[LostUmbrella]

Nice

[Pony Bones]

3698508 Thank you for continuously following the story. Discord went into hibernation then decided to wake up and make Christmas a bit more interesting.