Discord, bored, decides to make everypony in Equestria grow, but just a little bit! They all freak out, causing the collapse of Equestrian society as we know it.
Discord, bored, decides to make everypony in Equestria grow, but just a little bit! How are the mane six going to handle all the problems associated with this in time for the Grand Galloping Gala next week? How are Celestia and Luna going to stabilize the resulting collapse of the royal guard before any threats strike? How is Discord going to be able to breath after laughing at the ponies nonstop for thirty-seven hours?
A very special thanks to my pre-reader, RaylanKrios, for assisting me in this endeavor.
“Beware not the the fears and horrors that come from the dregs of one's mind, for they come from within, and one can conquer oneself. Beware not the enemies that seek your very death, for they at least promise the release of suffering when their task completes. Beware the idle mind, for it is unpredictable. Being unpredictable is lethal. Being unpredictable is destructive. Being unpredictable is chaos.” - Trotticus, 220 BC (Before Celestia)
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To say that Equestria has faced many problems during its history would be a gross understatement, an insult to what Celestia’s little ponies have survived through. Barring the occasional bunny stampede, the threats to Equestria were all too real. The ponies of Equestria had a real knack for attracting all-powerful, deadly mythological creatures to their pastel-colored homes, beings that did everything within their evil and often hunger-driven abilities to make a fitting snack of said Equestrian subjects. Notable examples include a metamorphic race Tartarus-bent on consuming the life energies of ponies, ancient behemoths such as hydras, dragons, and manticores that exist in droves and live in a proverbial stone’s throw of pony civilization, and various demigods of immense power rivalling (and alarmingly often, thwarting) the ruling deities of ponykind.
Thank goodness Celestia provides her subjects with free health insurance.
One of these beings, a certain purveyor of chaos, now reformed, sat idly alone in Fluttershy’s cottage. Idly for Discord meant only three laws of reality were being broken at the time, much to the dismay of the residential critters. To sate his boredom, Discord was currently animating the furniture of the house, content with having them argue amongst themselves over Equestrian economic theory while the cottage itself flickered through the various known and unknown dimensions of the universe. To top it off, several points within the house had a shockingly high gravitational field, drawing in bickering bookshelf and annoyed animal alike.
It was all very dull to Discord, who relished his ability to affect the vast majority of the Equestrian continent. After all, what pony did not enjoy vast swaths of various icings crisscrossing over the land? What pony did not enjoy reality-bending antics and forced personality alteration? ...Very few ponies apparently, which truly disappointed Discord. While appeased by altering reality near Fluttershy’s house, it still was a fraction of his possible influence. He needed to bring more chaos to the world; it was a matter of grave importance. Discord lived, thrived from the chaotic energies themselves, and sitting in this bubble was withering his presence in this domain. It ached to see so much peace and harmony in the world.
Not really though, he was just bored.
And in this boredom came a revelation. A loophole that Discord could exploit, one that would be technically allowed within the reformation contract, and exploit he did. With a simple snap of his claws, his mischievous deed was done, and the ensuing chaos would soon come. A slow grin crept over Discord’s face as he laid down upon his bed within the cottage, which was now arguing quite angrily with his lamp about proper commercialized banking regulations.
At the entrance to the bedroom, Angel Bunny, armed with a pot for a helmet and a lit candle for a blade, promised sweet, fiery death to Discord for intruding upon his sanctuary. Angel uttered a triumphant and menacing battlecry to signal his death charge unto the god of chaos, heralding Discord's demise. The result was a pitiful squeak and tumble for the offending bunny, who tripped on the rug in the center of the room. After being chastised for poor checkbook management by said rug, Angel, defeated, sulked off to his rabbit hole, muttering bunny profanities in his retreat.
“Ahh, sweet chaos.” Discord said, chuckling to himself as he watched the rodent.
<><><><><><><><><><> Ponyville, the next morning <><><><><><><><><><>
Twilight Sparkle awoke to a glorious morning provided by Celestia. Roused from slumber by the gentle twittering of several songbirds outside her tree’s window, Twilight set off to her usual morning routine. As she headed towards the bathroom to freshen up, her horn clipped the top of the doorframe, causing her to elicit a sharp squeak.
“Ouch! What the…” Twilight said to nopony in particular.
“Huh. I guess I had a growth spurt overnight. That’s quite odd, I’m fairly certain I’m passed puberty at my age… I should run some tests and record this in my journal. Perhaps it’s a direct result of alicorn ascension and magical exertion?”Twilight thought to herself while brushing her teeth. After her mane was styled, she headed down, clipping the doorframe once again, followed by a curse.
Downstairs, Spike was preparing a hearty breakfast of fruit, pancakes, and juice.He was particularly cheery this morning, humming as he drizzled several dazzling gemstones into the pancake batter. Twilight noticed his joyful demeanor and commented on it while helping him cut some apples.
“Morning Spike! What made my Number One Assistant so happy as to warrant gems for breakfast?” Twilight joked as she playfully ribbed Spike with one of her wings.
“Oh nothing really, Twilight. Just so you know, I happen to be a man now.” Spike said smugly as he finished setting the table.
“I see. Finally cutting out the bubble baths and daily naps? Oooh, wait, don’t tell me, you managed to stay up past 9:30?”
“Lay off it Twilight. Tell me, what do mares look for in a man?”
“Somepony who doesn’t blatantly disregard that all mares have different tastes in stallions, and, recently, in other mares.” Twilight said bluntly. She had taken that equinology course, after all.
“INCORRECT!” Spike shouted triumphantly. “They desire a tall, muscular, mustachioed, sexy hunk of a dragon. And now, I am proud to say that I am already 25% there! Check me out!” Spike went on to flex his (admittedly flabby) arms.
Stifling a chuckle, Twilight decided to humor him. “Yes, you’re a strong baby dragon, Spike. Now let’s eat, I’m famished.”
“It’s not the muscles,” Spike replied, annoyed. “I’m taller now, can’t you see?”
“I can’t see you over these pancakes, and you aren’t getting any if my stomach has anything to say about it. Now eat, we have to go to the market today and meet the girls to talk about the gala next week.”
After the two had breakfast, they headed out to the market, with Twilight somehow forgetting to duck at each door.
<><><><><><><><> At Carousel Boutique <><><><><><><><>
It should be no surprise to anypony that Rarity is a stickler for detail. Her trained eye and keen magical technique created superb and wondrous works of craftsmanship rivaled only by the elite artisans of Canterlot. Indeed, her only flaws were her penchant for drama, overtly generous nature, and inability to settle for less than perfection.
Naturally, a problem arises when suddenly, inexplicably, her entire wardrobe does not fit. Many an anguished cry and conveniently placed fainting couch did not go unused that morning. The theatrics of her lamentations were enough to awake Sweetie Belle from her slumber, and this filly was not pleased. After all, when your absurdly genius plan to become Cutie Mark Crusader Beekeepers (yay) fails and results in numerous stings and bruises, calm temperament is a low priority. As she headed down the stairs, she found Rarity on a plush couch and awash with misery.
Sweetie Belle, accustomed to her sister’s theatrics, was about to question her until she was abruptly cut off by Rarity’s sobbing.
“GO AWAY! -nom- I’M HIDEOUS; NO PONY SHOULD SUFFER -om nom- BY LOOKING UPON MEEEEEEE!!” Her wails were intermixed with several generous mouthfuls of ice cream.
“Rarityyyy,” Sweetie Belle squeaked. “It’s seven in the morning. Why are you crying like Twilight did when somepony folded one of the pages in her A Reference Guide to Studying book?”
“Oh… It’s nothing, darling.” Rarity composed herself for a moment. “It’s just that, in my profession, as you know, image is everything. Any change in appearance or form can have a catastrophic impact upon the dresses I design. And well…” She said, pointing at her personal wardrobe, “It seems that my premiere personal line is now unusable because… Because…” she started wailing once again. “I’M FAT! A GROTESQUE -om- CREATURE UNFIT TO WALK IN PONYVILLE BECAUSE -om nom- I AM A BLEMISH TO SOCIETYYYY!!”
“And your solution is to stuff your face with ice cream?” Sweetie squeakily replied, confused.
“YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND MY PAAAAIN!” Rarity said, sobbing. “I also have received an… unsettling number of complaints from my clientele about incorrectly sized formal wear. That’s absurd, I tell you! I fit them to the ‘T’! TO THE T! THERE ARE ONLY THREE LETTERS IN FIT!” Rarity started shaking Sweetie Belle in her frustration.
“W-won’t that m-m-mean all those fa-fancy p-ponies who o-ordered your clo-othes w-won’t have p-proper dres-sses and *dear Celestia make it stop* tuxes for the Grand Galloping Gala next week?” Sweetie managed while suffering from the Rariquake.
“Oh. Oh my. That’s not- I think I’ll just-” Rarity sputtered while taking in the implications before fainting once again on the couch. In total, nearly two thousand bits would need to be either compensated for or reimbursed with discounts, not to mention the time and material needed for adjustments and alterations.
Back at Fluttershy’s cottage, Discord was preparing the television with growing anticipation. After muting the TV’s lecture on supply side economics, he excitedly pulled out a giant, singular popcorn kernel and began munching on it as a news report played out on the screen.
“Crhhsssk. Breaking report, Canterlot nobility crashes the economy of the local and professional fashion designers in a desperate attempt to find proper clothes in time for the gala. Tailors everywhere are suffering from fabric and gem shortages, which is further causing massive inflation of prices in the textile and mining industries all in the span of one morning. In other news, minimalistic hats have had a fantastic reception on the market, with the most popular being one comprised of three pieces of hay and a drinking straw. We will now return to your regularly scheduled programming. Crhhsssk. Hi! Filly Mays here, and I’m going to show you this fantas- click.”
Celestia was observing another fine morning on the balcony of her private bedroom. Today’s sunrise was particularly ordinary, much like those of the past several hundred years. As glamorous as it may sound, raising an entire celestial body every day was certainly a chore, not to mention how extremely taxing it was. Most ponies thought that Celestia kept an air of secrecy around herself to project an omnipotent and benevolent image upon her loyal subjects. In truth, she was sleeping.
In days past, Celestia recalled that there was a time that was darker than Discord’s reign. It was right after his defeat, actually, when the fledgling empire was still re-establishing itself. Many events happened during that time, but one particular detail of the period remained rooted in her mind: bureaucracy was hell. Peace and harmony was all well and good, but Celestia found that blasting prominent political figures vying for power (with love and rainbows, of course) was considered socially… looked down upon, unfortunately. Because such magical love beams were a no-go, Celestia had to endure 30 long years of blathering bureaucrats and prissy politicians until she made an important (and sanity-saving) discovery: those ponies were as brainless as their propositions and policies. (A modern-Equestrian equivalent would be Prince Blueblood’s bid to tax the population in order to create a heated, crystal, diamond-encrusted, plot-massaging, wifi-enabled toilet seat cover.)
So, after some tentative experimentation, a life-sized Celestia balloon came to sit on the throne during day court. Nothing drove fear through the court more than the plastered on smile of an inflatable balloon. Molly-pop, as the stand-in’s name came to be, menacingly floated on the throne, silently ignoring the mares and stallions who came to her. In fact, Molly-pop was ignoring Blueblood’s sixth attempt at passing the uber-seat bid this very morning.
Thankfully, Celestia was resting on her balcony instead. She took another quaint sip from her mug, a hearty-sized piece of ceramic that had a picture of Twilight happily smiling while reading a book. Big, blocky lettering splashed out above the picture, reading “IN CASE OF EMERGENCY, HAVE TWILIGHT SOLVE IT”.
“Silence is such a rarity these days,” Celestia pleasantly thought.
Moments of peace like this were what Celestia enjoyed the most; the stuffy strain of being a prominent ruling body coupled with the incessant presence of the press left little time for solitude.
Then Luna entered the room. The doors would have cried, protested against the injustice brought unto them, but, alas, they were shattered and strewn on the floor from the force of Luna’s arrival. Luna was clearly frazzled; her hair was singed and still partially on fire, and her eyes were haggard and bloodshot, darting around the room, desperately looking for Celestia. Her eyes glinted upon seeing her sibling, still silently sipping from the mug. Once she spoke, it was clear that her voice was strained from overuse.
“Tia, TIA! We have a problem! Th-” Luna managed before being cut off.
“Luna.” Celestia’s voice was calm and steady, much like the moment she was having seconds ago. “What has happened that you must breach my room and violate Rule 47?”
“W-well…” Luna stammered out. “The Guard has collapsed, and I have a full damage report on the cause, but I felt it necessary to inform you of the other numerous disasters occurring at this very moment, so I-”
“Although troubling, nothing yet seems to have violated Rule 47. I love you, Luna, but I must remind you that few things are pressing enough that they bypass this rule. Is there anything else that you need to tell me?” It seemed a tad harsh, but to Celestia, maintaining such regulations ensured the protection of all of Equestria.
“...Very well, sister. I will try to regain control of the situation.” Luna made for the door, floating a hastily compiled report on to Celestia’s bedstand. “I leave you with one last message from Main Course: Code Orange. Farewell, dear sister.”
Luna left quickly, the remnants of the door hinges creaking in rage as she hurriedly trotted by. Celestia, on the other hoof, became as still as the statues of the palace gardens at the mention of the news. Her mug was frozen, floating near her lips in mid-sip, and her eyes became slits, focused and sharp. “I see.” Celestia whispered to herself, setting her mug down slowly in realization. “It’s unfortunate, but to deal with Code Orange…” Celestia muttered, hoof rubbing her chin in contemplation.
Celestia left the balcony and trotted to her writing desk. It was a desk of beauty; the frame was fashioned from marble and had a generous amount of space for Celestia’s needs. A few gemstones sparingly decorated the outer rim, but the one in the center was Celestia’s favorite. It was a shimmery, white opal; it wasn’t the rarest, most expensive, or the biggest gem, but Celestia wouldn’t forget the day she received it, all those years ago. She sighed as she recalled the memory, the world fading to sepia.
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The palace gardens, over a decade ago. A strong breeze was blowing through the shrubs. Celestia stood over filly Twilight as she listened to her mentor while resting on a gravel path.
“Now, my faithful student, the most important aspect of being a magician is being aware of your surroundings. Magical skill and power mean nothing if you cannot assess and handle your environment properly.” Celestia said knowingly.
Filly Twilight was so enraptured by the lesson that she focused intently on the ground in front of her. She inspected the gravel thoroughly, trying to acquire the information it held; it’s texture, heat level, relative position, chemical composition, smell, everything. After several intense moments of prodding and prying away at the path, Twilight stopped and turned towards Celestia, happily smiling.
“I think I know whatchu mean, Cewestia,” filly Twilight said with her adorable voice. “You can compare tha tempwatures of tha wocks to figure out tha heat index and compare tha coasness of tha wocks to infwer how much cowosion they went thwew.” The little filly nodded sagely at her insight.
“Very astute, my dear student,” Celestia praised her before continuing. “but do you know everything about this gravel?” A mischievous grin tugged at the corners of Celestia’s lips like they were being pulled along by a playful puppeteer’s strings.
Filly Twi’s eyes widened with shock. Could she have missed something? Was she going to be tested on the various compositions and effectiveness of certain types of gravel? Was she going to have to demonstrate proper gravel production and filling techniques in order to-
“Calm down, Twilight.” Celestia said, concerned. Twilight was already hyperventilating and rubbing her now-unkempt mane and tail for comfort, ears and eyes twitching. “I meant is there anything about the gravel that you could possibly know more about?”
“Oh. Haha…” Twi laughed nervously, blushing a bit. “Well… I guess I don’t know… how tha gwavel tastes?” She mused.
Celestia’s devious little grin returned again. “Perhaps you should figure that out. For science.”
Twilight’s ears perked up at the mention of her favorite word. “Yeah! For science!” She quickly faced the ground, millimeters from touching it with her snout. “Uhh…”
Celestia motioned for her to continue with a circular wave of her hoof, the other stifling her fillylike giggles.
Reassured, Twilight brushed up against the stones, opened her mouth and…
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That was the day Celestia found out that Twilight liked to eat rocks.
Later, when Twilight was having another helping of gravel (her teeth were surprisingly strong for a little filly), she munched upon the opal. She promptly spat it out and gave it to Celestia, muttering about how it wasn’t as good and crunchy as the other stones.
Memory remembered, Celestia shook her head to steel herself for the upcoming task. She began to pour a smidge of her celestial magic into the opal, revealing the intricate rune lock sealing the solution to Code Orange. Three circular inscriptions resided along the vertical axis of the opal, each projecting a small sphere of glowing, pulsating magic. The three spheres darted around playfully before coming to rest as Celestia raised her hoof to them.
The tip of her hoof tapped onto the center sphere, and a note softly but clearly rang out into the room. (The chamber would have been perfectly attuned to the note, but unfortunately, there was still an...unforeseen auditory outlet that had to be considered. Thankfully, the built-in receivers were still functioning properly.) In time with the first note, Celestia moved to tap the sphere on the right, ringing out another echoing sound. (The second note was actually a minor third above the first- fun fact!) Continuing on, Celestia pressed the center sphere to ring out the original note before moving onto the left sphere. This new sound was sadder and lower in pitch (a major second below the first, actually), and Celestia held onto it for a tad longer than the previous three. After lingering on the penultimate tone, Celestia moved towards the far right sphere to have it ring out the final piece of the lock.
As the jingle echoed (sort of) throughout the room, a soft rumbling could be felt as the gears and inner workings of the lock mechanism unhinged. Two panels on the floor unlocked and gave off a comical hiss as the hidden chamber depressurized, each panel sliding off in a different direction. A pedestal was slowly elevated to fill in the gap of the tiling, and after a minute of transit, the floor locked back in place, hiding the depths underneath.
The pedestal itself was not terribly large; it came to rest just under Celestia’s chest when she stood at her full height. The rugged, stone base supported a single tray, flanked by four similar pillars of marble. On top of each pillar floated an orb of magical energy, each of them an ominous shade of deep, navy blue. Underneath the tray was the solution to Code Orange, the key piece needed to resolve the situation. Celestia’s brow was furrowed, caught up in the tension and stress of enacting her be-all, end-all plan. Sweat beaded down her head, carving trails of water as she moved her hoof closer to the handle of the tray. There was a small flash of light as the lid came off to reveal…
...a lone cake.
The last cake in Canterlot, actually.
Considering how ponies had such a high affinity for sweets (Celestia doubly so), the kitchen staff had to properly supply and maintain sugary foods for the palace. So rare were cake shortages that when a dearth of them occurred, civil disobedience was an understatement of the situation. In fact, the last time cakes and pastries vanished from the market, a certain lunar rebellion took place- but that’s a story for another time.
<><><><><><><><><><> Ponyville Skyline, 7:30 AM <><><><><><><><><><>
Rainbow Dash, contrary to her personal belief, was not that bright of a mare. Sure, some things interested her, such as the Daring Do series, but anything more was treading deep into egghead territory. And truth be told, she didn't need to know such superbflusuperfluio extra things because she just didn't need them. Nuclear theory and particle physics? Ask Twilight to do it. Advanced calculus and its practical applications? Ask Twilight to do it. The economic model theory of Equestria? Rainbow knows a certain purple mare that knows her stuff.
Yet there are some things that grab Rainbow’s interest, and one particular activity grabs her attention quite well: flying. The amount of speed needed to achieve a sonic rainboom? Just past 340 meters per second. The most streamlined flying position? Mastered when she was a filly. Expert weather control techniques? Rainbow can conjure up a tornado.
But this morning, Rainbow’s favorite hobby was off. She was getting more drag on account of having just a bit more height, and it threw off her entire flying game. Missed landings, improper cloud manipulation, and inefficient energy usage were screwing her and the entire morning weather team up. The result was quite alarming to see, as Ponyville was dotted with impact craters from unlucky pegasi in some areas and doused with rainwater in others. In the distance, Rainbow could see Cloudsdale pegasi struggling with the weather factory; thunderclouds were growing frighteningly big, and the rainbow production district was leaking rainbow onto the underlying landscape.
“Ugh, what the hay is this! Everypony is flying like they have two left wings!” Rainbow huffed to herself. Derpy then crashed into Quills and Sofas, marking the impact as her 24th collision of the morning.
“Uhm… Rainbow?” Fluttershy asked while gently flying up to her. “I think we should call a doctor. I’m trying as hard as I can, but with Thunderlane down as the ninth pegasi with a concussion, I don’t think I can take care of so many injured ponies.”
“Nine?!” Rainbow cried, shocked. “But we haven’t even watered Sweet Apple Acres yet, and the other weather issues are gonna wreck this week’s schedule!”
“Oh… Okay then. I’ll see if I can get some help from the girls before we meet up. I’m sure Twilight will know what to do.” Fluttershy said before floating towards the library.
“Yeah, okay, you do that. I’ll see if I can fix this feathering mess everypony else made.” Rainbow replied in a more aggravated manner before taking off.
Flying was iffy at best when moving at normal Rainbow Dash is AwesomeTM speeds, so flying right now was a veritable disaster. However, flying any slower would ruin Dash’s street cred, and that was something Dash couldn’t afford to lose. (Street cred was just below daytime naps on Rainbow’s necessity list, but several notches above it on the radicalness list. It really was a fantastic and intricate system that was known only to the pegasus because she was the only one who bothered to learn it.) The result was a sporadic zig-zag rainbow trail that was entirely too fast to be sky legal.
Lost in her aggravated thoughts and flying like she just downed seventeen of Berry Punch’s best, Rainbow barely saw Blossomforth and Cloud Kicker from the corner of her eye. The two were corralling an errant ice cloud towards the lake to dump its contents, struggling to keep it stable. The three were unable to react in time as Rainbow collided in a decidedly not-so-awesome way into the pair, causing a miniature explosion that iced the three pegasi in place and launched the cloud into town. The frozen block that held the ponies prisoner fell to the ground with a loud thunk.
From Sweet Apple Acres’ southern fields, Applejack heard a muffled cry in the distance. Listening closer, she thought it sounded something along the lines of “MFFTHTHHHRR BHHKKRRR”. ________________________________________________
Fluttershy made it to the library’s front door when it opened. Twilight bumped her horn on the way out but was too engrossed in her argument with Spike to give it more attention than a couple of annoyed rubs with her hoof.
“...And I’m telling you that mares will not go crazy over you because you got armpit hair. While I understand that it’s a sign of puberty and increased masculinity, it’s still unsightly to show it off in such a manner. And frankly, dragon pit hair is kinda gross.” Twilight said, scrunching her nose up in disgust.
“Uhh… Twilight?” Fluttershy spoke in a hushed tone as to not intrude. It was rude to interrupt ponies that were talking, after all, and Fluttershy was anything but a rude pony.
“Oh yeah? Well you clearly don’t know what you’re talking about! Suave Dragon Monthly clearly says that flaunting a dragon’s pit hair is one of the easiest ways to land a date, along with honey baths and impromptu monologuing!” Spike stated matter-of-factly, not hearing Fluttershy.
Twilight sighed and rolled her eyes. She didn’t have the heart to tell Spike that Rainbow and Pinkie had been sending him that magazine every month since they arrived in town. That, and there was also the fact that the two were giving her a nice stipend for keeping her mouth shut.
“Excuse me… Twilight?” Fluttershy attempted to grab the pair’s attention again, as they were contentedly oblivious to the carnage raging around them at the moment. Fluttershy deftly dodged another pegasus that was careening through the air (which oddly sounded like a crashing airplane) before she landed in front of the two.
“Twilight, Spike, stop!” Fluttershy shouted as she blocked the two from falling down a huge crater where Ponyville’s market used to be. (Derpy would have a looooooooot of explaining to do for how she caused that one.)
“Oh, hey there, Fluttershy!” Twilight greeted her as she blinked in registration of where she was. “What are you-- Gah! Dear Celestia, what’s all this?!” Twilight exclaimed as she noticed the wreckage.
Celestia sneezed.
“Oh, uhm… It turns out pegasi flight dynamics are a very delicate process, and since all of us grew for some reason, we can’t exactly fly well. Without crashing into things, anyway.” Fluttershy explained.
“Oh man, that sounds--” ssssssSSSSHHHHAAABWOOOOM! Spike flinched before continuing. “That sounds pretty bad. I mean, it has to be really bad for the flower sisters to be panicking. Just look at them!” Spike exclaimed while pointing a claw towards the three mares. “They’re running around as if their manes are on fire! Lily’s mane is actually on fire!”
“Ehhh… I’ll fix that later.” Twilight said while waving her hoof. “Right now, I should probably stop Ponyville from collapsing. Again.”
Twilight prepared a spell, but her magic quickly fizzled out, her horn making an odd sizzling sound as the energy dissipated.
“What the hay?” Twilight said, shocked. She prepared to cast her spell once more, yet she had the same result.
Annoyed, Twilight’s left eye started twitching, when a wisp of magic flew in from Canterlot, popping into its letter form as it reached her. She grabbed the parchment from the air and opened it, grumbling while she used her mouth to untie the ribbon that held it closed. Spike and Fluttershy moved in closer to read the curious paper over Twilight’s shoulder as she read it aloud.
“...stufid riffon. Ack! Pthew! Ahem, Let’s see here… It says…”
“Dear unidentified magic user,
Congratulations! You’re magical prowess is certainly quite an amazing feat! However, due to the Equestrian Magical Protection Act of [year redacted], the spell you were about to cast, an MSRS (mass societal reformation spell), is no longer allowed to be performed onto the general public, as they have expressed that they do not want to be controlled by ‘you snooty unicorn pricks’. Because of your violation of this act, you are being issued a misdemeanor, with your magic is being temporarily disabled as punishment. If you wish to dispute your position, please file a ticket and send it to the Princess of Magic, Twilight Sparkle, herself for consideration.
With much respect,
Director T.L., Head of the Equestrian Magical Society”
Twilight read the letter again. She read the letter a third time. Spike and Fluttershy went for a coffee before coming back, only to find Twilight reading the letter upside-down, scrutinizing the parchment for any other details or hidden messages.
“Uhm… Is everything okay, Twilight” Fluttershy asked demurely.
Twilight only screamed in frustration in response.
From Sweet Apple Acres’ southern fields, Applejack heard yet another muffled cry in the distance. Puzzled, she turned to buck another tree before huffing under her breath.
Thunk “Huh. Somepony’s prob’ly gettin’ laid.”
Whistling quietly, she made her way towards the next tree.