Equestria's First Prank Call
“It’s finished!” Twilight bellowed, her voice echoing dramatically through the basement of the library. Behind her, a pair of antennae crackled with electricity, sending bolts of impressive, yet relatively harmless lightning through the air. Despite the wings, she had never felt it so appropriate to indulge herself in the Royal Canterlot Voice. “It is COMPLETE!”
“Huh?” The door at the top of the stairs swung open with a creak and Spike poked his head in. One of his claws held a pillow; the other rubbed his eyes. “What’s all the racket, Twilight?” he grumbled. “I’m trying to sleep.”
“Trying to sleep?!” Twilight stared up at him, switching instantly from slightly-unhinged-scientist mode to surrogate-family-member mode. “It’s the middle of the day! If you nap now you’ll never get to sleep tonight!”
“I’m only napping because you kept me up until four in the morning last night, untangling wires for that thing.” Spike pointed to the device that Twilight had been cackling over. It resembled nothing more than a wooden box with various oddities sticking out of it. There was a crank, and two odd trumpet-like protrusions, one set directly on the front of the box and one attached by a length of thick wire that hung against the side of the box on a hook. At the bottom of the contraption was some sort of overly-large rotary dial, and at the top was what looked like a miniature school bell.
“Oh, right.” She glanced at the clock and did some quick mental gymnastics that told her she had been working more-or-less nonstop (excepting bathroom breaks, of course) for the past thirteen hours. She suddenly felt a little tired, but the fatigue was overwhelmed by her excitement and the three pots of coffee (and a half) she had imbibed during her work. “It was totally worth it, though! Without your help, I could never have completed this!’ She mentally kicked herself for not having a sheet over it to whip off. Instead, she pointed at it with as much drama as she could muster.
“Yeah,” Spike said flatly, unimpressed by the flourish. “What is it?”
“This is a revolution in pony-to-pony communication!” There were stars in Twilight’s eyes as she rubbed her hooves together in anticipation. “With this device, ponies will be able to speak to one another from opposite ends of Equestria! Even if one of them is in Manehattan and the other is in Las Pegasus, they’ll be able to talk as if they were in the same room! Want to hear how it works?”
“Not really, but you’re probably going to tell me anyway.” Spike sat and put his pillow behind his head. If Twilight was going to lecture him, he might as well be comfortable.
“See, what happens is that you’ll have ponies who all have one of these in their house!” Twilight levitated the box and began to head up the stairs. “Someplace where it’ll be convenient for them.” As she reached the top of the stairs she looked back over her shoulder. “Spike, are you coming?”
Spike, who had just finished settling in, sighed and stood up. “Yeah, I’m coming.” He shuffled up the stairs and by the time he emerged, Twilight had already hung her invention on the wall.
“See, everypony will have one of these. So say you want to talk to somepony else. Like, oh, I don’t know, Rarity.” Twilight punctuated the name with a wink. Spike just glowered. “Every one of them will have a number. All you need to do is put their number into it” —she pantomimed spinning the dial— “and it will make this ring!” She poked the bell with her hoof. “Then she would pick this up” —she snatched the dangling horn-thing off of it’s hook and held it to her ear— “to listen, and you talk into this other one, and you’d be able to talk to each other, just like that! I call it…” She paused, her hoof on her chest. “The Longevox!”
“Huh, that’s pretty cool,” Spike said, finally beginning to allow himself a bit of enthusiasm. “I mean, if it’s just somepony in town you might as well just go talk to her, but if you needed to talk to somepony in Canterlot or something it could be pretty useful. Saves me the trouble of having to hork up scrolls all the time.”
“I know!” Twilight clapped her hooves. “Aren’t you just dying to know how it works?”
“Uh, not really—”
“See, what happens is that turning this dial here sends a series of magical charges along the wire that tells the device where to send the call. Then when you start talking, there’s a specially calibrated membrane that picks up the sound vibrations and transforms them into a magical current that travels along the wire to another Longevox, where it’s converted back into sound with this speaker. Right now we’re limited by the wires, but magical projection may eventually remove the need for—”
She paused for breath, and Spike jumped in. “Yeah, yeah, that’s really cool and interesting and… whatever. But there’s one problem.”
“Problem?” Twilight cocked her head to the side. “What problem? I spent all night double, triple, and quadruple checking all the connections. There’s no reason why it wouldn’t work. What problem is there?”
“The problem is that you can’t call anypony with your Longwhatever unless they have one, too. And I’m pretty sure that right now you have the only one.”
“Uh…” Twilight stared at Spike. Then at the Longevox. Then back to Spike. Then she facehoofed. “Uggghhh, why didn’t I think of that?! Now I’m going to have to build another one to test it!”
“Well, you might want to get some sleep first,” Spike said. He started for the stairs, dragging his pillow after him. “That’s what I’m doing.”
“That might be a good idea,” Twilight muttered, half to Spike and half to herself. She knew, intellectually at least, that she was fatigued, even if the coffee in her veins made her feel mostly awake and alert. She’d have to take a nap and then get to work on another Longevox so she could actually make a call. That would certainly be a historic occasion. For the first time in Equestrian history, one pony would talk to another pony from miles away without the need to cast complicated magic. Truly, it would be a momentous occasion that would go down in the record books.
Then the Longevox rang.
Twilight blinked and rubbed her eyes, for some reason thinking it would clear up her hearing. The Longevox rang again.
“H-how?” Twilight muttered to no one in particular. It wasn’t even hooked up to anything. It was physically impossible that somepony could be calling it. The bell was probably malfunctioning. It rang again. Her curiosity began to overcome her skepticism. It was probably malfunctioning, but she ought to at least attempt to confirm that. She plucked the speaker off of its hook and held it up to her ear.
Against all expectations, she heard a sound. Not just the buzzes and clicks of the machine itself, but there was a voice. And it was giggling.
“Hello?” she said.
There were a few snorts of stifled laughter, and then a familiar voice. “Is your refrigerator running?”
“Huh?”
“Is your” —more giggles— “refrigerator running?”
Twilight rolled her eyes, now quite certain who it was on the other end of the line. Nonetheless, she felt compelled to check. She gently set the speaker on the top of the Longevox, and poked her head into the kitchen. The fridge hummed slightly, but then again, it always did that. It was how she knew it was working. She returned to the Longevox and picked up the speaker.
“Uh, yes, my refrigerator is running just fine.”
“Well…” said Pinkie, on the verge of bursting into laughter, “In that case, you’d better go catch it!” There was a half-second of raucous laughter, then a loud click, and then silence. Twilight stood still for a moment, then slammed the speaker back onto its hook.
“Pinkie,” she growled. The nerve of that pony. Leave it to her to hijack the dawn of a new era of pony-to-pony communication for the sake of a bad pun. Despite the caffeine, Twilight’s fatigue surged over her. She was going to go upstairs, sleep for a few hours, and then have a word with Pinkie. And then possibly ask for her help. If she had somehow managed to hook herself into the Longevox, she obviously had a strong understanding of the underlying principles.
As she ascended the stairs towards her bedroom, Twilight heard an odd sound. It sounded not unlike hoofbeats. Which was ridiculous. There was no one else around but Spike, and he was both hoofless and asleep. What’s more, the sound seemed to be coming from the kitchen, which made no sense. And now the noise was getting louder.
Twilight sighed and turned around. Pinkie had probably decided to raid the kitchen while she was around. Pinkie’s shenanigans were the last thing Twilight wanted to deal with, but she might as well get it over with. She walked to the kitchen, and reached for the doorhandle.
Then the door burst open, and something leaped over her head. She spun around and saw, bounding over her table with the grace of a gazelle, a four-legged refrigerator. It pawed at the library floor with what looked like the leg of some sort of ungulate, spun around, and ran out the door.
“I-I… wha….it…” Twilight had to sit down. Then she threw her head back and screamed, shaking her hooves at the ceiling. “PIIIINKIIIIIEEEEE!”
Twilight slunk along the outskirts of town, a pith helmet on her head and binoculars dangling around her neck. Her saddlebags were packed full of every piece of tracking equipment she possessed, and as a result they very nearly dragged on the ground. The rest of her body was wrapped in camouflage.
She had been rather split on whether to pursue her missing refrigerator or to make a beeline to Sugarcube Corner, but in the end she had decided to recover her missing appliance. Pinkie was around town somewhere; Twilight knew she could be found. But the fridge… if Twilight put it off in favor of confronting Pinkie Pie, the icebox might be halfway to Appleoosa by the time she found it. Besides, she had two gallons of Rocky Road ice cream in the freezer, and she needed to get it back before it melted.
The refrigerator tracks (she still couldn’t believe that she was following such a thing) changed. Twilight stopped, drew out a magnifying glass, and examined the impressions, taking note of the depth, direction, and spacing. If her theory was right, soon she would—
“Hey, Twilight!”
Twilight nearly jumped out of her skin. She spun around in place half a dozen times before realizing that the voice had come from above her. She looked up just in time for her helmet, which had been thrown off by the sudden jolt, to land on her face. As she removed it, she found herself looking up at Rainbow Dash.
“So, uh, what exactly are you doing?” Dash asked, curiously surveying Twilight’s getup. “Did one of Fluttershy’s chickens run away again?”
“Shhh!” Twilight held up a hoof. “Be very very quiet. I’m hunting my fridge.”
“Oh.” Rainbow Dash turned to fly away, but then she realized what Twilight had just said. “Wait, what?”
“My refrigerator!” Twilight snapped. “I was up all night working on my Longevox, and then Pinkie called it to make a bad pun and now my fridge is running around town! I have to catch it before my ice cream melts.”
“Yeah…” Rainbow Dash scratched her head. She knew that Twilight had her fair share of eccentricities, but this was a bit much. “You were up all night?”
“Yes.” Twilight bent down and began to re-examine the tracks.
“I thought so. How much coffee did you drink?”
“Only three pots.” She sniffed the air. Then she pulled a miniature wind sock out of her bag and held it up in the breeze. “And a half.”
“Twilight, I think you might be seeing things. Why don’t you get some sleep?” She landed next to Twilight and gently put her foreleg around her friend’s shoulder. “Then you can go… uh, look for it. In your kitchen.”
“Aha! It’s slowing down!” Twilight crowed triumphantly into Rainbow Dash’s ear. “See? The stride lengths are getting shorter, and the distribution of weight in the tracks indicates a slower speed! It must be getting tired.”
“Fridges can get tired?” Rainbow Dash asked, and immediately regretted letting herself get drawn into this nonsense. “Wait, no. Fridges can’t get tired because they can’t run around. Those tracks are probably from Fluttershy taking her animals on a walk or something.”
“Rainbow Dash, I saw my fridge gallop out of my kitchen with my own eyes!” She grabbed Rainbow’s face and shoved it against her own, so her eyes were nearly all that Rainbow Dash’s could see. “I did not come out here to track Fluttershy’s animals!”
“Uh, you do know that sleep deprivation is bad for you, right?” Rainbow Dash said, stepping back cautiously. The edges of Twilight’s mane were beginning to curl. That was never a good sign. “Remember what happened to Applejack?”
“I have more experience with functioning on minimal amounts of sleep,” Twilight answered. “And Applejack didn’t have coffee!”
“Well, yeah, I guess. But come on, Twilight, a little sleep never hurt anypony.” Rainbow Dash put a hoof to her chest. “I sleep like fifteen hours a day, and I still manage to be totally awesome!”
“Being totally awesome isn’t going to keep my ice cream from melting,” Twilight retorted. “I have to take care of this now!”
“Yeah, uh… I…” She briefly considered whether it would be worth the trouble to attempt to drag Twilight back to the library. Attempting to deal with a coffee-fueled alicorn with an affinity for teleportation wasn’t exactly a fun prospect. Besides, even if Twilight was a bit delirious now, once her buzz wore off she’d probably fall asleep on her hooves. No point in provoking her. “I should get going. I have… training to do. Yeah. Training. See you later. Good luck with your” —Rainbow Dash tried not to laugh— “fridge-hunting.”
“Thanks!” Twilight answered enthusiastically, waving after Rainbow Dash as she flew away.
“You’re welcome,” Rainbow Dash answered. Then she paused to hover. “Oh, and just so you know, it might be easier to track your… you know” —she smirked— “if you flew. Just sayin’.” She spun around and resumed her flight, trying to put as much distance between herself and Twilight as possible.
Twilight glided slowly along the edge of the forest. Her reduced speed was due partly to her fatigue, partly to her attention to detail, and partially because her every attempt at rapid flight thus far had ended with her crashing into something. Rainbow Dash had been right, at least. It was much more effective to follow from the sky. Or at least, it would have been if she hadn’t lost the trail. The rogue appliance had somehow gained at least a small measure of intelligence. Upon recognizing that Twilight was closing the gap, it had made a beeline for Fluttershy’s house, and the tracks had disappeared amongst the foot, claw, hoof, and whatever else prints that covered the ground.
She came in for a landing, and as usual, it was less than perfect. It started in a skid and ended in her face bursting through Fluttershy’s window. Now she knew how Rainbow Dash must feel.
“Fluttershy!” she called, ignoring the fact that she now had a headache. “Are you there?!”
“Twilight!” Fluttershy’s eyes widened as she saw that it wasn’t Rainbow Dash who had damaged her cottage. “Are you okay?! What happened?!”
“I crashed,” Twilight said matter-of-factly. “You haven’t seen my refrigerator, have you?”
“Um, no I haven’t. Are you sure you’re alright? Do you want an ice pack?”
“No, I’m okay.” Then she toppled through the window and onto the floor. “Maybe an ice pack would be good.”
Five minutes and a cold compress later, Twilight sat at Fluttershy’s kitchen table attempting to explain exactly what it was she needed help with.
"...and then Pinkie caused it to sprout legs and run off, and now I need to find it! Do you think that you could help?”
“I, uh… maybe.” Fluttershy bit her lip. The last thing she wanted was to spend her day being dragged around by a sleep-deprived Twilight. Still, her better nature wouldn’t let her refuse. “I have a lot of work to do today but if there’s anything you need I suppose I could try to help.”
“Great!” Twilight clapped her hooves. “I only need two things. First, I need you to look at the refrigerator tracks and help me pick up the trail again. I lost it in all the other animal tracks around here.”
“I should be able to do that, I guess,” Fluttershy said. That would be easy enough, but she dreaded the second request. “What’s the other thing you needed?”
“A pot of coffee.”
“Oh, is that all?” Fluttershy asked, relieved. “I can do that.”
Twilight’s sagging ears perked up a bit. “Great!”
Fluttershy opened one of her cupboards. “Oh, it’s decaf though. Is that alright?”
Twilight drooped again. “Nevermind.” She reached into her saddlebag and retrieved one of her photographs. How she had managed to instantaneously develop the thing, Fluttershy had no idea. Twilight’s answer would inevitably be long and boring. “Here, I took this picture of the tracks and I need you to tell me what kind of tracks they are and where this type of creature might go.” She slapped the photo down on the table, rattling the teacups.
“Oh my. I’ve never seen anything like this before.” Fluttershy admitted, preferring to look at the picture rather than Twilight’s uncanny gaze. “They’re clearly one set of tracks, but looking at the prints, it’s like whatever left them had four different legs.”
“Different legs?” Twilight sighed like a deflating balloon. “What’s so weird about having four different legs? I have four different legs!” She held up her two front legs to demonstrate the obviousness of the statement. “See? Four legs, none of which are the same!”
“What I mean is that according to these tracks, the prints don’t match.” She pointed at the picture. “This one is a buffalo hoof, this one is a pony hoofprint, I believe this one is an antelope print, and this…” she bit her lip, “I’m not sure. It looks a bit like a chicken foot, but it has too many toes, and the spacing of the prints looks like it has a pony-type stride. I’m not sure what kind of animal it would be.”
“That’s because it’s not an animal! It’s a kitchen appliance!” Twilight barked in exasperation, as if ambulatory iceboxes with mismatched animal limbs were as common as apples in Ponyville.
Fluttershy sighed. Twilight did seem to be making a mountain out of something that didn’t even qualify as a molehill, but last time she had completely ignored Twilight’s requests for help half the town had ended up inadvertently brainwashed. On the other hoof, enabling Twilight’s neuroses probably wasn’t a good thing either. Both options had potential to end in disaster. She chose the option that would result in the inevitable catastrophe being further away from herself and her animals. Still, she felt compelled to make one last attempt at salvaging the situation.
“Twilight, are you sure you’re feeling alright? Maybe if you rested a little—”
“There’s no time to rest! My ice cream is melting!” Twilight slammed her hooves on the table. “Do you understand?! My ice cream is MELTING!”
“Uh, this morning I saw some rather odd tracks that looked sort of like those down by the road. If you hurry maybe you can—”
“AHA!” Twilight leaped up and charged out the door. “Thanks for the ice pack, Fluttershy!” she called back over her shoulder.
Fluttershy shook her head. Even for Twilight, this behavior was incredibly strange. If she had been practicing a new spell or something, then it would be nothing out of the ordinary. Twilight wasn’t the type to hallucinate about that. Unless the ice cream was part of some sort of research project she wouldn’t make that up. She wanted to help, but what was she supposed to do?
Then a thought crashed into her mind, and she wanted to kick herself for not thinking of it sooner. Her animals would have to wait.
“So lemme make sure I got this right,” Applejack said. “You want to borrow a bushel of apples.”
“Yes,” Twilight said, nodding.
“So you can bait a trap.”
“Uh huh.” She nodded again.
“To catch a refrigerator.”
“Exactly!”
“Hoo boy,” Applejack scratched her forehead at the edge of her hat. Ever since she had really gotten to know Twilight, she had known in the back of her head that one day this might happen. Years and years of pushing herself, repressing months of the stress that resulted from being heralded as the New Princess of Equestria while still straining to live up to her own impossibly high standards had finally caused a short circuit. Applejack was no psychologist, but even she could diagnose Twilight with the horrific affliction of having gone guano loco.
She tried to remember if Twilight was capable of teleporting herself out of a lasso.
“Since tracking it is too much of a hassle, I’m going to lure it!” Twilight said with a cackle. “It’ll never know what hit it! Do you know what kind of trap I’m going to use?”
“Twi, I think that you might… need just a bit of help. I don’t know exactly what brought this whole thing on, but I’ll try to help with it. You just gotta listen to—”
“I’m going to dig a pit!” Twilight interrupted, pantomiming a rough digging motion. “And then I’ll put a cage in the pit and inside the cage will be a snare! I’ll hide the pit and put a bushel of apples over it, so when the fridge comes to eat the apples, it’ll fall in the pit and trigger the snare! Then I’ll shut the cage and drop a net over it just to be safe.”
“Twilight!” Applejack put her hooves on her friend’s shoulders and gave her a shake. Twilight blinked a few times; the shock had apparently interrupted her train of thought for long enough for Applejack to get a word in edgewise. “You gotta calm down. I dunno what happened, but to be honest it sounds like you’re goin’ a bit crazy. You can’t just show up and expect me to fork over a bunch of apples just cause you think you saw your fridge runnin’ away!”
“I don’t think I saw it! I saw it!” Twilight’s bloodshot eye twitched. “I know it sounds crazy and that it’s completely ridiculous and makes no sense, but that doesn’t change the fact that it happened! It’s not like weirder stuff hasn’t happened before!”
“You… got a point,” Applejack said, “as much as I hate to admit it. But still, you gotta quit freakin’ out. And you can’t go diggin’ random trap holes all over town. Somepony could get hurt.”
“What am I supposed to do, then?!”
Applejack sighed. Sometimes she didn’t particularly like being the most reasonable pony in her circle of friends. “Listen, maybe you’re right. Maybe something weird did happen. But even so, I’m not gonna give up a bunch of apples and go galavantin’ around town after this thing unless I’m sure that there’s something to catch.”
“So if I can show you evidence, you’ll help me?”
Applejack shrugged in resignation. “Sure. If it turns out that there’s really a fridge runnin’ around, I’ll help you catch it.”
As if on cue, one of the trees beside the path where they were standing erupted in a shower of leaves. Out of the flurry of foliage, a boxy white shape dropped to the ground with a thud. It paused for a moment as if it wanted the ponies to stare, then bounded down the path on mismatched legs.
Applejack and Twilight were speechless. Twilight wasn’t speechless for quite as long. She grabbed Applejack’s face and very nearly shouted into it. “I told you!”
Applejack groaned, wanting to buck herself in the head for the agreement she had just made. “You have got to be kidding me.”
Rarity trotted happily along the road to her favorite café. The sun was shining, birds were singing, Sweetie Belle was still in school, and why in Celestia’s name was there a gigantic hole at the end of the road? Her curiosity got the better of her as she trotted past the cafe towards the pit.
She poked her head over the edge, and promptly got hit in the face with a shovelful of dirt.
“Pbrfblbl!” she grunted as she stumbled back, trying to get the offending grit out of her mane before it got too deeply embedded.
“Huh?” Twilight’s head popped out of the hole. “Oh, Rarity! I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there!”
“Oh, uh… think nothing of it, dear.” Rarity shook the last bits of loose dirt out of her mane. She would have to take a bath as soon as she got home, of course, but as long as she was here it was a non-issue. Twilight’s mane was so unkempt that Rarity’s, however dirty, still seemed immaculate in comparison. “What are you doing? I hardly think there’s any need for a hole here. And what’s more, your mane is an absolute mess.”
“Oh, this?” Twilight looked over her shoulder at the aperture she had carved in the earth. “This is a refrigerator trap.”
“I see,” Rarity said, nodding. Then her brain caught up with her mouth. “Wait, a what?”
“It’s a trap,” Twilight said helpfully, “for a refrigerator!”
“That doesn’t help,” Rarity said. “Why, exactly, are you attempting to construct such a thing? It has no practical purpose.”
“Actually, it kinda does,” said a voice from behind Rarity. She turned around to see Applejack approaching, a large web of rope slung over her back. “I got the net, Twilight.” She dumped the tangled mass at the edge of the pit and turned back to Rarity. “Yeah, I know it sounds like Twilight is losin’ it; that’s what I thought at first, too. Then an icebox with legs jumped outta one of my trees.”
“Oh my.” Rarity took a step back. Applejack would have to be crazy to think that, but she didn’t look particularly insane. “However did that happen?”
“I dunno,” Applejack said with a shrug and an eyeroll. “Twilight thinks it had somethin’ to do with one of her new inventions.”
“New invention?” Rarity raised an eyebrow. Twilight’s machinations were often rather odd and not particularly useful to anypony who wasn’t a magicologist. But a refrigerator with legs? “That doesn’t seem quite like something Twilight would invent.”
“The fridge wasn’t what she was inventin’,” Applejack said, shaking her head. “She says she was makin’ some sorta thingy that lets ponies talk to each other from far away, and—”
“It’s called a Longevox!” Twilight shouted from the bottom of the pit.
“Yeah, that.” Applejack shoved the net over the edge, and it landed on Twilight with a dull thump. “Anyway, she said that she had just finished puttin’ it together when Pinkie started talkin’ from it.”
“Oh, so Pinkie Pie is involved. That… sort of explains it.” Rarity thought for a moment. Pinkie would certainly be amused by the current situation, but her idiosyncratic relationship with the laws of physics tended to be limited to herself. “Have you considered that, you know, he might be involved?”
“I’ve thought it, all right,” Applejack said as she peered into the hole to watch Twilight adjusting the angle of the cage. “Thing is, nopony but Fluttershy knows how to get ahold of him, and she’s not home for whatever reason.”
“Ah,” Rarity said absentmindedly. “Where did you get that cage from? It looks like it could hold a manticore.”
“Fluttershy’s. That’s how I know she ain’t there. She’s not really usin’ it at the moment so I figured we could borrow it.” Applejack turned her attention to Twilight. “You almost done settin’ it up?”
“Just finished!” Twilight raised a hoof in triumph. “If anything falls into this cage, the top will slam shut, trapping it! And then I’ll drop a net on top!” She fluttered into the air and rubbed her hooves together in expectation. “Soon my fridge will be back in my kitchen where it belongs!”
Her horn glowed brightly, and a roll of tarp next to the hole began to unfurl, covering the opening. Rarity watched curiously as Twilight set about meticulously scattering dirt and leaves over the trap.
“How exactly do the two of you plan on luring the… appliance into this trap of yours?” Rarity asked, viewing the scene with apprehension.
“Apples, obviously,” Applejack answered. “Sure, we don’t know if actually needs to eat, but if it does, it’ll go for an apple.”
“But what then?” Rarity continued. “If you don’t know how or why it suddenly… did whatever it did, how is trapping it going to help?”
“The way I figure, if Pinkie Pie or Discord are involved somehow, they’ll probably show up once we catch the thing.”
“But what if you don’t catch it?”
Applejack’s eye twitched. “If we don’t catch it, I’m just gonna go home and call it a day. Twilight will have to live without her ice cream. But let’s face it, if it is somepony just tryin’ to mess with us, it’ll show up. It’s no fun sittin’ and watchin’ somepony else watchin’ a hole.”
Rarity nodded in assent. Nopony would find it more than a momentary novelty to see Applejack and Twilight hiding in a bush, waiting for the trap to trigger. Especially not Pinkie. The temptation would be too strong for all but the most strong-willed ponies to resist. And Pinkie’s will was about as strong as a gummy worm under all but the most grave circumstances.
“How does this look?” Twilight asked. She stood at the edge of the now-covered hole. The tarp was mostly hidden under a scattering of pebbles, dirt, and leaves, though the corners still poked out.
“Well, it ain’t gonna fool anypony, but since your fridge doesn’t have eyes, I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” Applejack said as she surveyed the setup.
Rarity cleared her throat. She didn’t want to be the pony who pointed out the obvious, but at this point she felt compelled to. “Yes, but it doesn’t have a nose either. How exactly is it going to smell the apples?”
Applejack and Twilight shared a frustrated glance.
“You know what? We’ve already put in all the effort, we might as well try it anyway!” Twilight declared, stomping her hooves. “It’s not like any of this makes the least bit of sense anyway. We’ll just see what happens!”
Applejack just shook her head. “I guess this situation can’t get any more crazy. Let’s do this. You wanna watch, Rarity?”
“Not particularly,” Rarity answered. Even so, she found herself following her two friends to their hiding place in a nearby bush. “I have other matters to attend to, and in any case, I simply cannot imagine this ending well.”
“Neither can I,” Applejack admitted. “But once I start something, I gotta see it through. Why don’t you take a seat?” She gestured at a patch of dusty burlap that she and Twilight had used to line their leafy hideout.
“Uh… Just a moment.” Rarity held up a hoof and tried not to grimace at the thought of sitting on such a dirty and sandpapery piece of… she was reluctant to even call it fabric. “I just have to fetch a nice cushion from my shop.”
“What, so you can just hole up in the Boutique?” Applejack rolled her eyes.
“Well, I certainly don’t have any reason to be here.” Rarity snorted and flicked her mane. “I never told anypony I was going to help with this ridiculous endeavor. I don’t think I have anything to contribute, in any case. I’m only here by happenstance.”
“Actually, I just thought of something very helpful you could do!”
Rarity spun around to find Twilight leering at her. And more worryingly, blocking Rarity’s path out of the situation.
“Um, what exactly were you thinking of?”
“You know a spell that can sense gems, right?”
“Of course,” Rarity answered indignantly. Even her apprehension couldn’t overwhelm her agitation at having her abilities questioned.
“Can you locate other types of crystal?” Twilight asked, taking a step forward. The grin on her face was a bit too close for Rarity’s liking.
“I-I suppose…” She took a step back.
Twilight countered by taking another step forward. “What about ice? That’s a crystal. Technically.”
“Well, yes,” Rarity said, and immediately wished she hadn’t. Then she thought of a way out. “Wait a moment. Don’t you know how to use that spell? And what do you need to find ice for anyway?”
“Because my freezer has a giant ice bucket in it, and if you can locate it, we’ll know exactly where my fridge is!” Twilight cackled ominously. “It’s perfect!”
Applejack shook her head.
Rarity swallowed. “And you can’t cast the spell yourself because…?”
“Because at the moment, my understanding of the spell is imperfect! If I had some time to practice I could, but as things are it’s nowhere near precise enough! My spell would pick up every ice chip and sugar crystal in town!” She sidled up against Rarity and dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “But you, you could single out the ice in my icebox and we would know exactly where the fridge is!”
Applejack sighed. “And you couldn’t have thought of that before we went and dug the giant hole?”
“Hush,” Twilight snapped. “Nopony’s perfect!” She turned back to Rarity. “So, can you pleasepleaseplease help us? I just want my fridge back, so I can relax!”
“I…”
“Come on, Rarity,” Applejack said. “If you help us out, the sooner you can get on with whatever it was you were doin’.”
“Fine,” Rarity grumbled, not at all happy about the blatant simplicity of Applejack’s logic. “If I cast my detection spell, will you let me go on my way?”
Twilight nodded like a bobblehead doll. “Of course! One casting should be all we’ll need!”
“Good.” Rarity closed her eyes and began to focus on her magic.
“Did you find it?!” Twilight asked loudly and right in her ear.
“No!” Rarity’s shoved Twilight back. “I have to concentrate. Unless you want me to detect every single ice cube in this town, it will take a few moments. Be patient!”
Twilight sat with a huff, and crossed her forelegs. Rarity closed her eyes again and tried to focus. She had never attempted to use the spell on ice. Gems began popping up in her mind. There was a surprisingly large cache near the entrance to Sugarcube Corner; she’d have to remember that for later. But for now, ice. She mentally began filtering out any gems of value.
“So, uh…” Applejack whispered. “Anything yet?”
“I believe I’ve narrowed it down. I’m trying to focus on the ones that are moving.”
“Huh? You mean it’s actually workin’?” Applejack’s head bobbed in wonderment. “I thought it was gonna fail spectacularly or something.”
“I can sense several collections of ice crystals nearby,” Rarity said. “Most of them seem to coming from the lemonade stand.”
“Oh.” Twilight poked her head out of the bush, and to her consternation found herself looking at a crudely-constructed storefront lined by disposable cups, being run by none other than the Cutie Mark Crusaders. Even when they weren’t causing incredible amounts of property damage, they were still making trouble.
“Twilight, how did you not notice that?” Applejack asked in exasperation. “My sister even gave us free drinks while we were diggin’ the hole!”
Twilight facehoofed. “Right. Uh, Rarity, try looking for the largest clump of ice that’s in motion. I filled the ice bucket in my freezer last night.”
“Very well,” Rarity furrowed her brow in concentration. She didn’t do so often; when one furrowed one’s brow with too much regularity it tended to stay furrowed. There were only a few large deposits of ice. One was obviously the CMC’s cooler, another was too big for even a fridge; it was likely the ice chest of a restaurant. Then she noticed something. “I think I’ve got it. A moderately sized cluster of ice crystals, moving slowly. It seems to be floating a few feet above the ground as well.”
“That must be it!” Twilight grinned in anticipation. “Can you tell me where it is? I have to figure out which way to lure it!”
“It’s…” Rarity’s eyes snapped open. They were full of fear. “It’s right next to us!”
Twilight and Applejack’s eyes bulged as they processed Rarity’s statement. Then they looked at each other. Before their heads finished turning, something suspiciously fridge-shaped tore through the bush, knocking the three of them head-over-hooves.
The three ponies righted themselves rapidly. The fridge landed just next to where the trap lay. Rarity could only stare. Twilight had been right all along. It was a refrigerator, normal in every way aside from the animated limbs that had somehow sprouted from the lower corners. It clawed at the ground with one of its extremities (the chicken foot, specifically), as if it dared its pursuers to follow. Then it spun around and sprinted down the road.
Or at least, it tried to. Applejack’s lasso was already around the… thing’s legs.
“Oh no you don’t!” Applejack growled through her teeth, which were clamped tight on the other end of the rope. She reared up and gave the lasso a solid yank. The fridge stumbled sideways, teetered for an impossibly long moment, and toppled over into the hole.
“Gotcha!” Twilight leapt into the air and swooped over the trap, waving her legs triumphantly. Inside the cage at the bottom of the hole, the fridge struggled against the tarp that had hidden the snare, trying to untangle itself. “You’re not going anywhere!” Twilight shouted. With a flash of her horn, the lid of the cage slammed shut. She whipped the net over the cage and landed on top of the contraption, cackling in a fashion that could only be described as maniacal.
“Thank Celestia that’s over.” Applejack wiped her brow and sat at the edge of the hole. “I was afraid that I was gonna end up wastin’ my whole day followin’ that thing!”
“Um, perhaps the two of you shouldn’t celebrate quite yet,” Rarity said, her voice heavy with dread at the inevitable reaction her words would cause. “I think that your cage is empty.”
“What?” Applejack stared at Rarity as if she had just grown a second head. “You saw it fall right in there!”
“Yes, I did,” Rarity said. “I also saw that tarp go flat. I wouldn’t go and make up something of that sort. Look for yourself!”
Applejack poked her head into the pit and examined the cage, which did indeed look empty. The tarp that had been tangled around the rogue appliance now lay against the bottom of the cage.
“What?!” Twilight hopped off the cage and pressed her face against the bars. “No! This can’t be happening! Can the fridge teleport?! This isn’t fair! What am I supposed to do now?!”
Then she heard something. A familiar voice, humming. She poked her head over the edge of the pit to see Pinkie Pie pronking down the street, occasionally pausing her humming to talk to herself.
“MmmmMMMmmmmm… no, that’s too low pitched. A song about cookies needs to sound brighter! MmmMMmmMM!”
“Pinkie!” Twilight launched herself out of the hole and landed forcefully on the ground directly in front of Pinkie. She shoved her face against Pinkie’s and glared as hard as she could. “What did you do?”
“Huh?” Pinkie cocked her head to the side. “Ooooh! This is about this morning, isn’t it? Did you forget already? I called you, remember? On your weird box thingy.”
“I know that!” Twilight shouted, her voice hoarse both from her constant screeching and the hot coffee from the night before. “What did you do to my refrigerator?!”
“Huh?” Pinkie turned her head innocently. So innocently that for a moment Twilight almost believed her. “What about your fridge?”
“My fridge has been running around town all morning!” She glared at Pinkie with all the rage she could muster. It wasn’t very effective. “And I wasted hours trying to catch it, only for it to disappear!”
“Really?!” Pinkie giggled. “You’re trying to get back at me for calling you and that’s the best you can come up with?”
“What are you talking about, Pinkie?” Applejack said. “I saw it runnin’ around willy-nilly myself!”
“I saw it as well,” Rarity added. “You gave it legs! And mismatched ones at that!”
“Oh, so that’s what I saw running past Sugarcube Corner this morning! That explains it!” Pinkie nodded, as if seeing such a thing was an everyday occurrence. “I didn’t have anything to do with it, though. I mean, sure, I can inflate my head, or play ten instruments at once, or grow extra limbs, but giving a fridge a set of legs? That’s just silly!”
Twilight’s eye twitched as her brain nearly broke itself trying to make sense of… anything, really. She failed. “But… who… how… why…?”
“It was because of him!” Everypony’s heads spun. Discord sat in the center of the road, his serpentine body tied in a large knot for no discernable reason. Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash were flanking him. Fluttershy dropped her voice to her normal speaking level, which, of course, was barely audible to nearly everypony else. They gathered around her as she continued. “I, uh, I suspected that he might be playing a prank. It took me a while to find him, but—”
“I found him,” Rainbow Dash grumbled.
“...but he admitted to being the one behind it all,” Fluttershy continued, giving Rainbow Dash a sideways glance.
“I should’ve known,” Twilight said wearily, shaking her head at her own obliviousness. “You had your joke, Discord. Why don’t you just tell me where you put my refrigerator?”
“That’s the greeting I get?” Discord shifted himself, so the shape he was curled in became more like a bow. “Couldn’t you spice it up a little? Maybe some appropriate humor? You know, ice to see you, or something?”
“No!” Twilight stomped on the ground, creating a small crater. “First of all, I’m not Pinkie. I don’t do puns like that. And second, it’s not nice to see you! You stole my fridge, and I would like it back. If you just give it to me now, I’ll just forget that this ever happened, and I’ll never tell Princess Celestia that you did this!”
“I would certainly love to do that, Twilight,” Discord slowly began to unroll himself, sliding along the ground before curling up around Twilight. “But unfortunately I can’t! Even for me, the impossible is… well, you know.”
“W-what do you mean? You can’t put back something that you stole?!”
“Well, I could do that.” Discord rolled his eyes. Out of his head and down his neck into his hand before sticking them back into his face. “What I can’t do is return something that I never stole in the first place.”
“What the hay do you mean?” Applejack glowered at Discord, who ignored her. “I saw that fridge runnin’ around!”
“So did I!” Rarity said.
“And I saw the tracks all around my house!” Fluttershy added.
“And I… uh…” Rainbow Dash shrugged. “Well, I actually didn’t see anything, but I believe that they did!” She zipped in front of Discord’s face and attempted to jab him in the nose as she continued to question him. “So what’s your deal, huh? You want to steal my friend’s ice cream? Can’t you make your own or something?”
Discord’s nose dodged back and forth of its own accord, the rest of his face remaining motionless as he responded. “Why would I steal her ice cream? Celestia has a far more extensive collection of frozen desserts. Ice cream, gelato, sorbet, frozen yogurt, frozen custard. I’ve never been a fan of Rocky Road, anyway. I much prefer Moose Tracks, or Mint Chocolate Chip, or Marshmallow Fudge, or Pistachio, or—”
“Ahem!” Twilight cleared her throat and glared.
“No, the reason I cannot put her fridge back is because I never so much as touched it.” He balanced on his tail, holding up all four extremities. “Or used magic to move it without touching it either, because I just know you think I’d try to use a loophole like that.”
Fluttershy scowled at him. “So you’re telling us that you aren’t responsible for moving Twilight’s fridge in any way?”
“Yes, that is exactly what I am saying.” He reached into a pocket he hadn’t had a moment before and unfurled a long scroll. “See? Here is a signed and notarized document chock full of needlessly complicated yet completely accurate and legitimate legalese confirming that I am not in any way responsible for any fridge disappearances!”
Twilight’s eyes skimmed the document. Discord’s assessment was accurate. He had even gotten Mayor Mare to stamp it. “But… but… but WHERE’S MY REFRIGERATOR?!”
Discord shrugged. “I would assume that it’s in your kitchen.”
“Then what about whatever it was that was in there?” Rarity pointed at the now-empty pit trap.
“Oh, that?” Discord chuckled. “That was just a golem. I thought for sure that somepony as brilliant as Twilight Sparkle would have thought to check her kitchen before rushing off after it.”
Twilight tried to talk, and ended up saying “...kgk.”
“Let that be a lesson for you,” Discord continued. “Always think through a situation before rushing in. Or something like that. I’m sure that once you’ve had a good night’s sleep you’ll be able to think of something.” He patted her on the head.
“So… it’s been in my kitchen the whole time?”
“Unless Pinkie Pie has taken the time to remove it,” he answered.
Pinkie shook her head. “Nope. Fridges are heavy.”
Discord turned to Fluttershy and spoke with mock childishness. “May I go now, pleeeaaase? I’ve already eaten all my vegetables.”
“Fine,” Fluttershy grumbled. “But next time, be more careful! You really made Twilight frustrated! Jokes aren’t funny if the person you play them on can’t laugh with you. Friends don’t play nasty pranks on each other.”
“Duly noted,” Discord said flatly. He turned toward Twilight. “My apologies. Please accept this humble gift.” He snapped his fingers, and nothing happened. Then snapped a few more times. “Oh come on.” Then he snapped his fingers again, and a gigantic tub of Rocky Road ice cream exploded out of the ground in a puff of smoke. “There. No hard feelings.” He patted Twilight on the head before vanishing in a second explosion.
“Well, at least we got that settled,” Applejack said, staring at the ice cream tub, which was nearly as tall as herself.
The group stood motionless for a few moments, not sure exactly what to do.
“Soooo…” Rainbow Dash broke the silence. “I guess Twilight should get to bed now?”
“Yes, that sounds like a plan,” Twilight mumbled as she began to stumble in the general direction of the library. “But first, I have to check to make sure that my fridge is still there.”
“Fluttershy, why don’t you go with Twilight and make sure she gets to bed?” Applejack said. Fluttershy nodded and glided after Twilight. “I’ll go drag this here bucket of ice cream into a freezer before it melts, then I’ll come back to help y’all fill in that hole before somepony falls into it.”
“Especially Pinkie,” Rarity added. “Seeing as she started this whole debacle.”
Pinkie snorted and crossed her forelegs. “All I did was make a joke!”
Rainbow Dash shook her head. “Next time you do this, you let me in on it, okay?”
Twilight groaned as she rolled out of bed. She still had a bit of a headache, but at the very least she didn’t feel like she was on the verge of a mental breakdown. But just to be sure, she glanced in the mirror. Her mane was a bit disheveled, but that was just bed-head. The curls that normally served as an indicator of an elevated stress level were nowhere to be seen. She yawned and ambled downstairs, wondering how long it had been since she had slept for so long.
The Longevox still sat on the table. Yesterday’s events gave it a slightly menacing look, but Twilight tried to force those thoughts out of her head. If she was going to associate any inanimate object with that debacle, it would be her fridge. Which she had taken the time to glue to the floor, just in case.
But now was the time to put all that behind her and look on the bright side. Her invention, once modified for practical usage, would completely revolutionize life in Equestria. It was absurd that Pinkie and Discord’s little pranks would cast a shadow over her accomplishments. She was about to usher in a new age of communication! All that nonsense with the fridge would barely merit a mere footnote. A year from now when she would inevitably be honored by the Equestrian Magical Science Society for her invention, she would look back on this day and laugh. Now that she was well rested, nothing could possibly shake her—
The Longevox rang.
She sighed, and with much trepidation answered, expecting the worst. “Hello?”
“Hello,” said Pinkie, in the flattest, most un-fun voice Twilight had ever heard. “I’m Pinkie Pie, and I’m calling on behalf of Sugarcube Corner. Our records indicate that you’ve recently purchased a product from our establishment, and you’ve been randomly selected to take part in a customer survey. Any information you give us will be kept strictly confidential.”
“Pinkie, I don’t have time for this!” Twilight said sternly. She waited for an answer. She received it, in the form of a brief giggle, and Rainbow Dash’s voice.
“Question one: What product or products did you purchase during your visit? If you purchased a cupcake or cupcakes, press ‘one’. If you purchased a cake or cakes, press—”
Twilight hung up, and sighed. “I guess I’ve still got some bugs to work out.”