Happy Hearts and Hooves Day, everypony!
Hearts and Hooves Day, what a jubilant time.
When ponies, young and old, express feelings most dear.
We address this day now, we address it in rhyme.
This special day that comes only once per year.
Here we can see the nervous young colt and a giggly filly,
Others appear so sweet, some just plain silly.
A few, however, are not so lucky as they.
Look, now, upon that pink pony, frustrations plain as day.
This angry frilly filly, oh so haughty and proud
Thought herself to be the most desirable pony there ever was.
Though there was little love for one so nasty, mean, and loud.
After all—
"We are not doing this in verse!"
...nasty is as nasty does.
Diamond Tiara fidgeted in her seat, grumbling curses to herself as she watched all the other foals in her class enjoy themselves—even those who had no "special somepony". Though the general earnest merriment and genuine happiness thoroughly irritated her anyway, Diamond Tiara was particularly perturbed by the laughter of her three arch-nemeses. Each of them happily single, the three Cutie Mark Crusaders sequestered themselves in a quiet corner of the classroom to make as much noise as possible. Diamond Tiara ground her teeth at the sight of them having a good time.
"Those little twerps! Look at them there!"
she exclaimed with great vigor.
"Their stupid, giggly nonsense makes me want to pull out my hair!"
Her eruption was sudden, like a triggered hair trigger.
"They have no special somepony, but what do they do? They—"
"Gah hee hee!"
The goofy, boisterous laugh gave Diamond Tiara a start.
She looked on to see Snails and Snips, also alone.
Suddenly, there arose a small quiver in her shriveled black heart.
With a sick little grin, she quietly said, in a sinister tone,
"Let's have some fun."
And so she gathered some paper, and a stub of pencil, too.
Laughing and chortling, she knew just what to do.
She jotted down flattering words so very sweet,
Then signed it with mouth-writing most neat:
Love,
Apple Bloom
Young ponies played on the playground and mingled in the schoolyard upon being excused for recess. Many spoke of how nice their special somepony was. Others encouraged nervous classmates who sought to approach their special somepony. Some were utterly indifferent to the foalish crushes and playful romances, instead going about their recess as they would on any other school day. Among these some were the Cutie Mark Crusaders, Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo, as well as the less-than-dynamic duo, Snips and Snails. Diamond Tiara, having discretely pilfered an envelope from an oblivious Twist, tip-hoofed her way into the schoolyard, sealed letter in mouth. Spotting Snips and Snails engaged in a game of tether ball, she began to contemplate possible means by which to deliver it to him.
"It simply can't be me,"
aloud thought she.
"I would hardly be the one to send.
Apple Bloom would only trust... a friend."
Diamond Tiara examined the letter she had dropped on the ground. On one side it read, "To: Snails". She considered what she'd said regarding the means by which the letter must be delivered as she eyed the Cutie Mark Crusaders from afar. With a determined grunt, she placed a hoof on the letter, then slid it across the grass to land just shy of Scootaloo's rear hooves. Diamond Tiara drew further away, patiently waiting for Scootaloo to discover the letter.
Scootaloo chuckled, taking a step away from her friends. She heard a crumpling of paper from where her hoof had landed, giving her cause to turn her head and investigate. She was surprised to find a tidy, if now slightly wrinkled, envelope with writing on its surface.
"Hey, check this out," said Scootaloo to Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle.
The two turned their attention to the letter as Scootaloo picked it up to read what had been written on it.
"What's it say?" asked Sweetie Belle.
"'To: Snails,'" answered Scootaloo, frowning. "Maybe he dropped it?"
Apple Bloom cast a glance Snails' way, just in time to see the enthusiastic colt jump, headbutt the tether ball, and lodge his horn in it. She frowned also.
"Now who would give Snails a love note?"
"We should open it and find out!" eagerly suggested Sweetie Belle.
"No way!" chided Apple Bloom. "Ya don't go rootin' through anypony's mail, especially somethin' as personal as a love note."
"I was kidding," conceded Sweetie Belle, rolling her eyes.
"Maybe we should just give it back to him?" Scootaloo suggested in earnest.
Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle both looked at the envelope, then answered with nods.
After a pathetic display of effort through a series of pulls, twists, and grunts, Snails finally managed to dislodge his horn from the tether ball, much to the amusement of Snips, who giggled uncontrollably from the moment Snails' horn became stuck in the first place.
"Don't laugh at me!" shouted Snails.
"Sorry, sorry," said Snips through stifled laughter.
"Hey, you!"
Snails and Snips started at this female voice, both swinging around to confront Scootaloo, who held an envelope in mouth. She eyed both of them dubiously, then spit the letter at Snails hooves.
"I think you dropped something."
Snails stared unblinkingly at the envelope, his jaw agape.
Scootaloo's dubious eyes grew more dubious. "It is yours, right?"
"Uh..." muttered Snails, his eyes still glued to the envelope.
Scootaloo sighed, abruptly turning away and departing with, "You're welcome!"
Snips stood beside his friend, curious as could be.
Snails gnawed his lip, feeling weak at the knee.
He fell to his rump, still surprised and confused.
He opened the letter and silently perused:
Dear Snails,
I've had my eye on you for a while now.
Wanted to tell you how I felt, but didn't know how.
I thought today should be the day that I pour out my heart.
You're tall, dark, and handsome, a real work of art.
Such a funny laugh, such charming smiles.
A list of all the good things about you would just go on for miles!
You make my heart beat in that special way.
Do you want to be my special somepony this Hearts and Hooves Day?
Love,
Apple Bloom
Snips guffawed at the poetry, jostling Snails as he laughed.
"That's the cheesiest thing I ever read!"
Snails lowered the paper, now entranced in a tense thousand-yard stare. When Snips realized that his friend did not share his opinion of the letter, he quickly ceased his laughing and jostling.
"Snails?" he asked, confused. "You alright, buddy?"
Snails drew in a long, stready breath, as one might do before taking a plunge into deep water.
"This can't be happening," he muttered through clenched teeth.
"What?" Snips asked, more confused.
"This can't be happening!" snapped Snails, his trance broken.
Snips recoiled, but was quick to recover and ask, "What's wrong? It's just a love note."
"You don't understand!" Snails retorted, his hooves curling over the letter. "It's the curse!"
Snips cocked his head, eyes squinted. "Curse?"
"My family curse!" Snails threw the now crumpled letter on the ground, now on his hooves and viciously staring down Snips.
Snips cowered, clearly uncomfortable with Snails' apparent capability to be upset about something.
"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talkin' about."
"Then I'll tell you!"
Snails gazed dramatically into the distance.
"Once upon a time, long ago, I heard my grandpa say,
that all the stallions in the family should be careful on Hearts and Hooves Day.
You see, back when this holiday first began,
one of my ancestors wanted a complete ban.
'Shame on ya,' he'd always say,
'Wastin' good flowers 'n chocolates, eh!'
One day a witch, upset with his yelling,
stowed away all the flowers she'd been selling
so she could march up to him and say,
'Shut yer trap and go away!'
Do you think he listened? He most certainly did not.
My something-great-grandpa didn't take one step from that spot.
And from that spot, he continued to yell,
'Listen all! Listen well!
This celebration's a sham, a hoax, a scheme!'
Though he shut right up when he heard the witch scream,
'Confound you, you troublemaker! All this trouble you're making,
perhaps it'd be best if I cured your love hating!'
And so, with some smoke, and other witchy stuff,
she laid a curse on him, then left in a huff.
As the story goes, the curse did not wait.
My ancestor got his comeuppance for all of his hate.
One blue tulip, and a pretty mare's prance,
oh, my old ancestor didn't stand a chance.
Now, every stallion related to him, and every stallion hence,
has to live with the curse, and it just makes no sense.
All the stallions in my family are cursed to fall for that one filly,
the one that asks us to be their one special somepony."
As Snails concluded his explanation, Snips took on a thoughtful scowl.
"That's why you're freaking out?" Snips asked. "A curse? There ain't no such thing as curses!"
"Do you even know how serious I am right now, eh?" Snails hissed. "My grandpa and my dad both ended up marryin' the first filly that asked 'em to be their special someponies. It's a curse I tell ya!"
"It's just coincidence," refuted Snips. "It doesn't mean you're cursed. I mean, come on, do you really think you're ever gonna married to Apple Bloom? For all we know, this is just some prank."
Snails glanced in Apple Bloom's direction. She just so happened to make eye contact, look away for a moment, then make eye contact again and grin slightly.
"This is no prank," gravely admonished Snails. "This is the real deal."
Snips sputtered, shaking his head. "What are you gonna do? Read her your own poem?"
Snails nodded solemnly. "If I must, then I will."
Snips blinked, saying, "Snails, I wasn't being serious. You—"
"Curse you, curse!" exclaimed Snails, suddenly trotting away from the school grounds. "I'm off in search of pretty flowers and an epiphany! But mostly the epiphany!"
Snips bit his lip, unwilling to stop his friend from running off. "This isn't gonna end well."
"Welcome back, class!" greeted Miss Cheerilee as her students filed back into the room.
She looked over them with a jovial grin, but frowned when her gaze fell on Snails' desk.
"Where's Snails?" she asked, directing the question at his only known friend, Snips.
Snips glanced to the doorway, only able to answer with a mortified, "He just got here."
Cheerilee looked to the door, gasping at what she saw. There stood Snails, clad in a suave black bow tie. His mane had been slicked back and he held an elegantly arranged bouquet of tulips. With the pressure of all eyes being turned on him, Snails quivered intermittently, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead. Diamond Tiara snickered, turning her attention to Apple Bloom.
"Well, Snails, I am thoroughly impressed," complimented Cheerilee. "I assume you're going to ask somepony to be your special somepony?"
Snails gulped, mumbling, "Uh-huh..."
"This is gonna be good," Diamond Tiara murmured surreptitiously.
"Well," urged Cheerilee, "go on."
Snails stepped forward, taking a shuddering breath.
"Apple Bloom..."
Apple Bloom started, totally unprepared.
"Excuse me?"
Snails shuffled stiffly over to Apple Bloom's desk. By now many sweat beads had joined the initial trickle.
"I didn't have a lot of time to practice this, but here goes."
He coughed lightly, Apple Bloom's face beginning to take on a color similar to her mane.
"Apple Bloom," he recited mechanically, "I feel like the luckiest guy ever.
My folks thought thirty-five, I thought never,
was when I would find a pony right for me.
So, my answer is yes, I'd love to be your special somepony."
Upon concluding his recitation, Snails forced a weak grin, presenting the bouquet with a trembling hoof. Apple Bloom looked equal parts dumbstruck and terrified, lips slightly parted as if to inquire. Before said inquiry could be delivered, however, a plump bumblebee flew from out of the bouquet and landed on Apple Bloom's forehead. Whatever she'd meant to articulate was overridden by an earsplitting shriek as she flung herself from her seat. Hysterics immediately followed; those ponies who weren't doubled over with laughter were rushing to Apple Bloom's aid. Snails dejectedly let the bouquet fall to the floor, hanging his head and sulkily dragging himself from the room.
Resigning himself to the playground, Snails sat in seclusion. His once perky, charming bow tie had now gone limp and lacked any measure of charm. Profuse perspiration had served to wash away whatever product he had used to keep his mane slicked back, resulting in a messier version of his typical manestyle. Snails continued to let his head hang, unsure whether to put himself together and own up to the calamity he'd caused or to skip town and change his name. After a moment of serious contemplation, he decided that he would prefer to stay where he was and never do or say anything ever again.
This is how Apple Bloom found him several minutes later, the hysterics in the classroom having calmed down. She hesitated in her approach, but continued anyway, seating herself beside Snails without any acknowledgement from him.
"So," she began cautiously. "That was... er..."
"A disaster?" Snails suggested contritely. "I screw a lot of things up, but never that badly. I'm so sorry I embarrassed you like that."
"Oh, that weren't nothin'. Trust me, bein' embarrassed in front o' lots o' ponies ain't anything new."
"I feel like such an idiot right now," Snails grumbled, face buried in his hooves.
Apple Bloom frowned empathetically, glanced to the schoolhouse, then said in serious tone, "Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Don't feel like an idiot. 'Cause that was one o' the nicest things anypony's e'er done fer me. Sure, ah bumped mah head on a desk and got stung by a bee, but ah still think yer mighty sweet. If you think we should be each others' special someponies, then by golly we'll be each others' special someponies."
Snails looked at Apple Bloom, eyes wide and smile hopeful.
"You mean it?"
Apple Bloom nodded.
"Ah mean it."
Snails looked away, grinning contentedly.
"Then the curse is real!"
Apple Bloom raised an eyebrow, chuckling.
"Alrighty then. Whatever that means."
She stood, gesturing to the schoolhouse.
"Class ain't over yet. We oughta mosey on back."
"Oh, right."
"Oh, and Snails?"
"Yeah?"
Apple Bloom leaned forward and pecked the colt's forehead, giggling affectionately as she withdrew.
"Ah always thought you were kinda cute."
She returned to the classroom exercising the utmost nonchalance. Snails, a proud smile plastered on his face, followed close behind.