• Published 26th Dec 2012
  • 3,635 Views, 300 Comments

Thweet Geniuth - JMac



Twist has won the right to compete in the most illustrious candy making competition in Equestria. But her friend Quizzical Greystone has discovered something fishy happening behind the scenes. The sequel to "Quizzical."

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"Quiz, Hang On!"

Thweet Geniuth

Chapter 13 Quiz, Hang On!

The fillies flew through the night sky, screaming and hanging on for dear life.

“Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!” cried the girls.

“Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!” cried Princess Luna.

The stallions pulling the chariot would have liked to have cried “Weee!” but they were on duty, and it would not have looked right.

“wwww,” groaned Quiz.

She was curled in a tight fetal ball on the chariot floor, clinging to the hoof rail so fiercely her dark hooves turned white.

“Quiz, are you going to be alright?” called Sweetie Belle.

Quiz’s response was largely unintelligible.

“What’d she say, now?” asked Apple Bloom.

“I didn’t quite catch it,” answered Scootaloo. “Something about being a leaf on the wind.”

Princess Luna had never learned to teleport without any accompanying sound effects (mainly due to lack of trying). Noise abatement regulations in Manehattan forced them to arrive outside city limits and fly the rest of the way to mid-town. Cheered on by their appreciative passengers, Luna’s charioteers put on quite a show; charging though the sky at top speed.

“Wow, this is great!” cried Scootaloo, fluttering her wings with excitement. “Can they do a barrel roll?” She was almost drooling with anticipation.

“They can, but they won’t,” stated Princess Luna. “We are sorry, but this chariot has no safety restraints.”

“Aww,” groused Scootaloo, her wings drooping in disappointment.

“Perhaps some other time, when Quizzical is not riding with us,” said the Princess. “Remind us next Nightmare Night.”

Quiz moaned something inarticulate.

“You are welcome, Quizzical,” the Princess answered.

Eventually, the chariot spiraled in and landed gently in the Confectionary Coliseum cart park.

“Thank you, gentlecolts,” Princess Luna spoke to her guards. “We shall be returning to Canterlot by other means. The rest of the day is your own. Please enjoy your time in Manehattan.”

“Thank you, Princess,” said one of the stallions, as they both bowed. “We’re going to walk ourselves around the block a time or two. You know, to walk down some? But then we were thinking; we overheard you talking about this contest and all and, well, we think we’d like to see it, too, if that’s alright, your Highness.”

“Certainly. We shall leave word at the front gate that you are to be admitted.” Princess Luna turned to speak to the fillies. “Go ahead and find us seats. We shall wait with Quizzical until she is ready to venture forth.”

The girls all jumped out and trotted off to find the ticket booth. Quiz groaned a question only Luna could hear.

“Yes, Quizzical, Dear. I am sure that this will make you stronger.”

#

“That ith not my not my name,” said Twist, morosely.

She had finished prepping her kitchen and had a few idle moments before the contest began, and Twist found herself staring at the banner mounted over her side of the stadium. It proclaimed, in huge red letters, that tonight’s challenger would be “Peppermint Twist.” Twist didn’t know if there was anything that could be done about it, and even if there was it didn’t matter. It was just impossible to get any help from the Food Equestria staff. She would have to live with it.

“Twist! Hay, Twist!” a familiar voice called. Twist turned and saw Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon standing at the rail in front of the first row of seats.

Twist trotted over to them. “Hay, girls, what brings you here?”

“Our parents have season tickets for the Grand Chef’s Challenge,” answered Silver Spoon. “And we just couldn’t miss this.”

“That’ths cool,” said Twist. She looked over at the Challenger’s gallery, which was still completely empty. “Where are your folks, then?”

“Um, yeah, they’re over here,” explained Silver, indicating the opposite side of the stadium.

“We’re sitting in the Grand Chef’s Gallery,” said Diamond Tiara. There was nothing friendly about her grin. “Dad says it’s were everypony who’s anypony sits.”

“Oh,” muttered Twist, who then stood there trying to think of something else to say.

Silver finally broke the uncomfortable silence. “Well, we better go. We need to be in our seats when the contest starts or we won’t be on the Tron when they show the audience. Good luck, Twist, okay?”

“Thsure. Thanks, Silver.”

“Yeah, good luck, Peppermint!” Diamond called over her shoulder. She giggled wickedly.

“Thaths not my name,” Twist whined.

#

“Princess, they’ve locked us out!”

Luna was leading the still unsteady Quiz to the box office when Sweetie Belle ran up to them. The other girls were still arguing with the ticket clerk.

“Come on, Mister, let us in!” begged Scootaloo.

“No ponies seated after final set up, just like it says” sneered the clerk, tapping a sign. “Too many folks milling around in the stands disturbs the Grand Chef’s mental preparations. You’ll have to wait until the first intermission.”

“We apologize most sincerely for being tardy, Good Sir. Is there no way an exception could be made for us?”

“No ponies seated…” The ticket clerk looked up to see who he was speaking with, and stopped breathing for a moment.

“Are you well, Sir?”

Cough, cough! Um, yes, Princess Luna. Please give us a few moments and we’ll prepare the Royal Box for you.”

“That will not be necessary. We will be sitting in the Challenger’s Gallery.”

“The… Challenger’s Gallery?” The clerk blanched.

“Is that a problem?” Princess Luna cocked an eyebrow.

“No, no, not at all! I’ll see to it now.” The clerk waved frantically for an usher to come and attend to the Princess, then ran to an intercom and spoke in a stage whisper, “Merry? We have an emergency! Do you have something to hang on to?”

“Princess, if you would follow me, I’ll show you to your seats,” said the usher. “Um… should I call the orchestra? Will you be wanting a fanfare?”

“Oh, yes, please, would you do that for us?” Princess Luna gave the usher a broad smile. “We desire the works!”

#

Fillies and Gentlecoats!” declared the Colosseum loudspeakers. “Please rise for Princess Luna of Equestria!

Merry Fairweather listened to the trumpets roar as the Princess regally made her way to the front of the Challenger’s Gallery. Merry held her clipboard so tightly her dark hooves turned white. The clipboard creaked and groaned, but did not break. Yet.

It wasn’t the Princess that held Merry’s attention. She focused on a small, nondescript gray filly quietly following the Princess. It was like seeing a ghost.

Quizzical Greystone! thought Merry, grinding her teeth. I gave this kid my best shot, and she still made it here! With a Princess!!

The filly was destined to haunt Merry.

“You know, Merry, maybe this is a sign.” It was Curtains, the Director, speaking through her headset. “Don’t you think we should re-think the whole idea of trying to make Twist look bad? We could just play it straight instead. There are more important things than the Grand Chef’s ego.”

“Forget that!” Merry cried back. “Everypony, listen up. If there is something more important than the Grand Chef’s ego around here I want it caught and killed! So long as he is the principal stockholder and the CEO, all of Food Equestria and all its assets, including all of you, are just an extension of the Grand Chef’s ego. We proceed with the show as planned.”

She was going to have to find the Grand Chef and try to calm him down. He was undoubtedly throwing a fit.

“Just clarify one thing, Merry,” called Show Host, Smarty Brickoven. “All that material you had us working on, about how nopony is here to see Twist? That’s off now, right?”

“Shut up, Smarty.”

#

“You’re here! You made it!” squealed Twist, galloping into the stands. An observer who did not know them would have described the contact between Twist and her friends as a ‘collision’ rather than a ‘hug.’ It was some time before she disentangled herself enough from the happy, giggling cluster of fillies to catch the eye of the one pony standing off to the side.

“Quiz? Could you too, you know… um…?”

Quiz sighed, but Twist could just make out her faint smile. “Go ahead, Twist. Everypony else has.”

The invitation was meant for Twist, but the others took it as a cue.

“Cutie Mark Crusaders – Group Hug!!!”

“What, again? But we already just… oh… dear….”

#

“So, Chef, you have a hat and coat for your assistant?” asked Apple Bloom.

“It'ths thstill waiting for you, in the dressing room. We didn’t think you would be here. That remindths me, I need to find Bon Bon…” It wasn’t actually difficult for Twist to find her other assistant. Bon Bon had gone back to the judge’s table to argue some more.

“It’ths probably about those wonderful rampths you built us.”

“They won’t let us use the ramps? Aww, I put a lot of work into those.”

“Well, you can try talking to them. Bon Bon ithn’t getting anywhere.”

Head Judge Smarty Brickoven was doing his best to sound patient and reasonable, not an easy thing to do in the face of an angry Bon Bon. “Ma’am, you need to return to your kitchen. The rules do not allow you to remodel the cooking area.”

“Actually, that happens not to be the case.”

Smarty had could not see where the soft voice had come from, and had to stand and lean all the way over the judge’s table before he found Quiz. “You have something to say, young filly?”

Quiz looked up to find all four judges staring down at her. With a squeak she retreated behind Bon Bon’s flank to escape all the attention.

“Um… I… I…I can demonstrate.” She threw up a magic blackboard in front of herself as a shield. On it was a page from the Grand Chef’s Challenge Rule Book. “There are no rules expressly forbidding reasonable modifications, and there are several precedents from the contest’s history allowing this.” Quiz was much more comfortable hiding behind a visual aid, and went on confidently. “Shelving was once readjusted to accommodate an arthritic chef.” The page changed. “Additional lighting was brought in for a chef with failing vision. I can cite other examples if you would like.”

“That won’t be necessary,” said Smarty. He had the complete attention of everypony within earshot – including all his fellow judges, producer Merry Fairweather, and Princess Luna. He did not like where this was going.

“Mind you, the Ponyville library had a copy of last year’s rule book. If there has been an addendum forbidding such modifications you need only cite it, and we will withdraw our protest.”

How Smarty answered depended on which he was more worried about – his reputation or his career. He decided on the answer that didn’t involve lying through his teeth in front of one of the Royal Alicorns of Equestria. “No, there hasn’t been a rules change.”

If looks could kill Merry’s glare would have incinerated Smarty where he stood. Gamely, Smarty made one last try. “There are, however, strict rules about delaying the contest…”

“Not a problem,” exclaimed Apple Bloom. “I can have ‘em in place in ten minutes. Five if you loan me a couple of those big fellows of yours,” she added, indicating the stage workers who had been lounging around the studio since final preparations were complete.

What the Hay, thought Smarty. The Grand Chef has already asked for a ten minute delay, since the Princess’s arrival ‘disrupted his concentration.’ “That will be fine. We will allow it.”

There was the sharp crack of splintering wood. Merry threw down the two halves of her clipboard, and stalked off.

#

“That was an excellent application of your magic blackboard spell, Quizzical,” said Princess Luna when they had all taken their seats.

“Thank you, Princess. I have discovered that I can display a printed page if I have it memorized…” Quiz stopped dead. She went on, sheepishly, “I mean… um… what magic blackboard spell?”

“It’s a bit late for that, Quizzical.”

“What’s the matter?” whispered Dinky.

“Quiz never told the Princess she’d invented a spell,” said Sweetie Belle. “I think she was kinda supposed to.”

“We will speak of this later, Quizzical. For now, Girls, all of you settle down. The contest is about to begin.