> The Definitive Guide to Pony Anatomy - Starring Princess Celestia and Princess Luna > by Pen Mightier > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Princess Celestia's Rubby-Raspberry-Tubby > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Observe, the common Equestrian pony in her natural habitat. An image of plausibly-undeniable adorability looked up from where she had her muzzle buried in a boxful of donu-....pardon me, I mean, partaking in her late afternoon princessly repast. "I find your tendency to speak to your friend, Thin Air, just a little disconcerting." My Lady, Princess Celestia, said, doing her best to look indignant. The look was somewhat sullied by the dark chocolate donuts impaled upon her stately horn. "I simply enjoy a little intelligent conversation from time to time. Please, don't mind me, my Lady." I said, reassuringly. "But I do mind." My Lady muttered, irritably. Granted, perhaps my Lady is a not-so-common Equestrian pony, but perhaps this is more fortunate for the rest of the universe. But for the purposes of studying pony anatomy, she will be adequate. "What are you insinuating?" My Lady raised a perfect eyebrow, not unlike a royal guillotine. In fact, that is why we are here today, to study the intricacies of pony anatomy. In my long tenure as the butler to the Equestrian royal family, I have made it a chief project to perfect the knowledge of pony anatomy down to a science. This is meant to not only be for personal gain but also for the benefit of all. Now, Equestrian Ponies are a friendly race. Most of the time. At least when they're not staring daggers at you, waving their pointy horns distractingly at your face. Every bit of them, including their anatomy, was designed to maximize their friendship potential. First time visitors from Earth often make the common beginner's mistake of drawing parallels between Equestrian ponies and Earthling equines. It would be more apt to compare them to, say, a Swiss army knife of Friendship. They even come with that blunt little doo-hicky nobody ever knows what to do with. "Pardon? What? Where?" My Lady looked around at her tail. My Lady has very kindly volunteered herself for our first foray into the terra incognita that is pony anatomy. "I did what?" My Lady paused in the middle of turning round and round to look at her flank to balk at me. Almost every single part of a pony's anatomy is a 'petty zone', areas of their body that are both culturally acceptable and most comfortable to pet. Each zone is numbered, starting with petty zones 1, 2, 3.... My Lady chose this moment to roll her eyes. ....16, 17, 18, 19, 20... My Lady's eyes had grown as large as saucers. "T-twenty...?!" She sputtered in disbelief. 34 zones have been identified to date, with new zones described almost every other week, whenever I feel particularly adventurous. Now, let us begin with the most obvious feature, the 'fuzzy-wuzzy'. A pony's entire surface area is covered in the softest, most velvety fur, designed for maximum petting comfort. There are textures to please everyone, from silky velvets for the most discerning connoisseurs to fluffle puffs for the adventurous beginners. These are helpfully colour-labelled for our inconvenience, much like poisonous mushrooms and dangerous toads are. "Dangerous toad indeed." My Lady muttered, darkly. The extensive colour code index is much too long to explore here and can easily be referred to in the appendix. But to provide you with a few choice examples, blue fuzzy-wuzzies are about as smooth and aerodynamic as fine Italian sports cars. They also tend to be about as fast and loud and can be quite a challenge to catch for cuddles. However, they have a tendency to crash, most often into the nearest living object. In one experiment, I once stood in the middle of an empty field devoid of any features for miles. A blue pegasus still managed to crash land on me. This tends to be the most opportune moment to sneak in a cuddle or two on these otherwise speedily elusive blue ponies. Blue fuzzy-wuzzies tend to have an average cuddle factor of 450 micro-Lunas. "Micro-what?" My Lady frowned, "Did you just name the unit for cuddliness after my sister?" As my Lady helpfully implied, the universal standard for Fuzzy-Wuzzy cuddliness is Princess Luna, whose cuddliness is defined as 1 Luna units. Cuddliness is a function of the Fuzzy-Wuzzy's softness and its fuzziness, and... "Huzzah! Our subjects finally recognize the universality of Our cuddliness! Let the cuddlings be doubled!" A dark figure hanging upside down from the ceiling above us declared. She detached herself from the ceiling before somersaulting upright and landing nimbly next to her sister. "Good afternoon to you too, Luna." I gave my other mistress, Princess Luna, a nod of greetings. "Thank you for coming as planned." "T'is not a problem, dear Butler! Forsooth, this moment hath been ordained to happen for aeons!" Luna declared, throwing a hoof imperiously into the air. "How much time do you two waste together?" My Lady could only sigh. "Not enough." We answered together, in stereo, before giving each other fist/hoof. Now, returning to my little lecture, other notable fuzzy-wuzzy colours include 'purple'. Much like it is back on Earth, purple denotes danger. Lavender ponies are very unstable and volatile and are prone to spontaneously combusting. Approaching them is dangerous enough, let alone cuddling them. However, with the high risk comes high rewards, as their cuddle factor measures an average 820 micro-Lunas. "How did you manage to measure that?" Luna asked the million bit question. "It was not easy, but my will is iron, my suit asbestos." I nodded, sagely. "Butler, um...." My Lady began, while idly drawing circles on the carpet with a forehoof. She gave an awkward gulp before shaking her head. "N-never mind." Ah, yes, to date, there is only one pony whose fuzzy-wuzzy cannot be quantified - my Lady, Princess Celestia. Like the deity she is, her fuzzy-wuzzy is on a divine scale beyond the reach of us mere mortals. "B-Butler..." My Lady whispered, turning a fine shade of red. "Like her weight." Luna agreed, sagely. "Lulu, sister!" My Lady gasped, her face the very picture of pony indignation. She said it, not me. Now, while we are on the subject of their fuzzy-wuzzies, I would like to digress a little and touch upon a specific part of their fuzzy-wuzzies. Towards the part you might consider their rear there is an area dedicated to the 'flank-label', colloquially called the 'Cutie Mark'. Much like how their fuzzy-wuzzies are colour coded for us, each and every pony is helpfully labelled with a flank-label that signifies a pony's place in the universe. For example, Luna's flank-label is that of a moon, signifying her to be the local deity of the moon. My Lady Princess Celestia's is that of the sun, signifying her to be really, really hot. "But she's single because she burns anyone who comes close." Luna sighed. "Wh-wh-wh-what?" My lady stammered. She is also the point around which everything revolves around. "Or so she thinks." Luna sniggered. Ah, that brings me back to the subject of fuzzy wuzzies. Regardless of their fuzzy-wuzzy colour, all ponies have the natural ability to turn their fuzzy-wuzzy into one common colour - red, quite like a chameleon. However, unlike the chameleon, this evolutionary function is designed to seek attention rather than hide. Notice how my Lady is very kindly demonstrating this state to us. Observe how her marshmallow white fuzzy wuzzy is slowly transforming a most gorgeous red. "I am not blushing!" My Lady snapped, her cheeks glowing brilliantly. My Lady is indeed correct. You may be fooled into thinking this is a pony 'blushing'. Make no mistake, this cannot be further from the truth. This is simply a metamorphosis of their entire fuzzy-wuzzy into a new state of heightened sensitivity, one called 'pet-me-plis'. To further explain this phenomenon, it would be important to draw your attention to another part of a pony's anatomy, the 'scritch-a-scratch', also known as petty zone 1. To the uninitiated, this may seem to be the pony's ears. They are in fact much akin to radio antennae masts, highly receptive to tactile stimulus. This is moreso in the 'pet-me-plis' state. Observe how my Lady's ears are now standing to attention. "No, they're not!" My Lady fervently denied, ears twitching dangerously. Failure to lavish this part with pettings, especially when ponies are in the 'pet-me-plis' state, will lead to a potentially lethal state called the 'pouty-snout'. Notice how my Lady is very helpfully demonstrating the 'pouty-snout' to us. "I am not pouting!" You may wonder how a pony could possibly talk and pout at the same time. This is a godly skill unique to the divine sun deity that is my Lady and should never be attempted at home. "Uuuuuuu, Butleeeeer!" "T'is true." Luna agreed, sagely. "It is a skill that is only possible to achieve with cheeks sculpted through thousands of years of cake-gorging, otherwise known as the trial of 'Die-A-Beauties'. It is not for the faint of heart." But if you ever find your pony in a 'pouty snout' state, fret not. There is a simple and effective cure. Ponies have an easy reset button, also known as the 'boop-button' or 'petty zone 2'. Pushing them like so is called a 'boop'. A succesful boop will cause their little muzzles to scrunch up most adorably, just as my Lady is helpfully demonstrating. You will notice them go cross-eyed before rebooting and forgetting everything that had transpired within the past 10 minutes, including their pouty-snout state. "Hmm, what?" My Lady blinked, seemingly rather confused. They are rather defenseless and vulnerable in this dazed state. As such, it is important to reassure them and make them feel safe and secure. This is best done by giving them a good, tight cuddle delivered to exact target locations upon their anatomy. This is a good opportunity to explore petty zone 3, otherwise known as the 'huggle snuggle' zone, which to untrained eyes may appear to simply be a pony's chest. In fact, as you can see, my Lady wears a 'peytral', a chest piece that helpfully indicates the exact location of her 'huggle snuggle' zone. As an aside, the Elements of Harmony, Equestria's Weaponized Friendship programme, takes a similar form as they are similarly activated by cuddles (for more information on this, please read my user manual for the Elements of Harmony, titled 'Your Harmony Pony and You'). To deliver a cuddle to her huggle snuggle zone, simply approach her while she is in her dazed state and wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her huggle snuggle zone towards yourself. Keep in mind, maximum contact between the zone and yourself makes for maximum results. An effective cuddle would calm your pony down, signified by them relaxing visibly, sometimes going as far as sitting back on their haunches as my Lady is doing. This exposes the much coveted petty zone X. This is a part of pony anatomy that eludes even the most experienced pony enthusiasts, often appearing to be nothing more than a simple tummy. This is in fact the Rubby-Raspberry-Tubby, named after the acclaimed Professor Raspberry, known to be the first pony to scientifically describe its natural function. In fact, I was his first audience. I recall his inaugural lecture on the subject which he delivered personally to me over his tenth mug of zap apple cider in a very hospitable pub in Appleloosa. It is a well known fact that ponies require a minimum dose of one tubby-rubbing a day. It is a basic need about as crucial as air, water, love and cakes for them. Failure to fulfill this need can cause these poor ponies to languish in a corner before withering and shrivelling up like a prune. This is a condition called 'Want-a-wub', a potentially lethal condition. Prof. Raspberry purported that the reason ponies are so evolutionarily geared towards friendliness is because of this very crucial need. While the tenuous continuity of the pony race is a testament to their ability to fulfill this need themselves, the arrival of humanity in Equestria has been instrumental in securing the safety of the pony race for centuries to come. Our hands are apparently incredibly suited to delivering the tubby-rubbing with exceptional efficiency. So next time you see a pony, please do give them a tubby-rub and help make sure they live another day. "We hath need of one now, Butler!" Luna declared, throwing a hoof into the air commandingly. "Dangerously so!" Some ponies, such as Luna, are good at expressing their need for a tubby-rub. Now, observe, an effective tubby-rub shall quickly cause a pony to roll onto their backs, their hooves twitching helplessly in the air like so. Notice how expertly Luna demonstrates this, how she cooes in satisfaction as her ears twitch. The cooing signifies that her 'googoo-gauge' is filling up effectively, ensuring her survival for yet another day. Unfortunately, some ponies are not as vocal about their needs. These ponies are more at risk of dying from 'Want-a-wub'. A good neighbour would be quick to identify such ponies and be sure to visit them at least once a day, breaking in through their windows if necessary. I was once proclaimed Canterlot's hero-of-the-year after breaking every single stained glass window in my Lady's abode. Speaking of, my Lady here is one such pony who would require me to approach her at least once a day for this. "Am not!" My Lady lied. "There is no su-...su-....su-....oooooh...." As you can see, once administered, even the most reluctant ponies quickly become amiable to one's expert ministrations. Notice how her lustrous tail swishes to and fro, signifying how effective the tubby-rubs are. While delivering tubby-rubs, it is important to keep an eye out for the pony's hooves, specifically that part called the 'Buck-a-trot'. Do not let their soft, marshmallow-like appearance and feel fool you. These are specifically designed to deliver one of ponykinds' favourite gestures of friendship, the 'brohoof', which to any other race pretty much amounts to unarmed combat. One brohoof from a single fashionista unicorn can render an entire squadron of ace pegasus fliers incapacitated. The stallion equivalent of the 'Buck-a-trot' is the 'Alicorn-Slinger', designed to launch weaponized friendship warheads (quite often the stallion's own wife) at unsuspecting elder gods. (For further information on how Equestria weaponizes friendship, please refer to my lengthy dissertation on Equestria's Weapons of Mass Distraction). Once you have delivered enough tubby-rubs you would soon develop the reflexes you need to dodge the twitching and flailing buck-a-trots. If you don't, then consider yourself a martyr to natural selection. Your sacrifice to ponydom will be celebrated every second Tuesday along with the millions of others who have fallen in the preservation of ponykind. Now, the second function of the Rubby-Raspberry-Tubby is for blowing raspberries. It is a simple act, whereby the raspberry-giver would cup his or her mouth upon the recipient's rubby-raspberry-tubby, ensuring a tight seal with his or her lips, before blowing as hard as possible. The resulting sound is the stuff of legends. In fact, in one pony myth, the sun was created when the alicorn god Gaia delivered a raspberry upon the alicorn goddess Solaris. This is a particularly sacred act, one that should only be done when one intends to propose to one's special somepony and is ready to risk life and limb. Prof. Raspberry codified this in his first Law of Raspberry, 'Once you've raspberry'd somepony, they either marry you or kill you'. As such, marriage proposals in Equestria are quite literally a matter of life and death. In fact some experts believe this is the reason for the interesting gender ratio imbalance in Equestrian society (For further information on this, read another of my dissertations titled 'On Equestria's Endangered Species; The Pony Stallion'). "Are you alright, my Lady?" I asked, realizing my Lady had become as tense as a board. "A-are...a-are you about to demonstrate that too?" She asked, her voice barely two octaves above her usual. "I haven't written my will yet, I'm afraid." I said, simply. "Can you write one now, please?" My Lady suggested. Oh.