> The Sour Grapes Chronicles:  Equestria Girls
>  by The Incredible Werekitty
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> 1.  Missed Everything
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Sour Grapes huffed, as she scribbled her vital information onto the paperwork that would register her as an Intern at Canterlot High School. Paperwork. There is always paperwork.
“Your internship is appreciated. As soon as you have some more experience we will consider hiring you full time,” the young, rather statuesque woman with two-tone light purple and dark blue streaked hair said with a nod.
“That’s reassuring,” Grapes said, as she finished up her paperwork. “It’s going to be interesting, coming back here.”
“I remember the last time you walked these halls. Has it really been that short a time?” the principal spoke, a taller and almost statuesque woman with tri-colored hair in pink, light blue, and green; smiling her trademark warm smile. “Sour Grapes, so focused on setting the academic world on fire that she nearly left skidmarks. I hope you try to enjoy the journey as much as the destination, this time.”
“I’ll try to, Principal Celestia,” Grapes replied, nodding to the older woman. “What am I going to be doing as an Intern?”
“Honestly, a little bit of everything,” the younger of the two women replied.
“Care to elaborate, Vice-Principal Luna?” Grapes asked, politely as she could.
“Well to be blunt we are somewhat short-handed in many of our departments,” Luna confessed before elaborating. “Several private schools have lured away many of our more seasoned educators during the summer break leaving us with a shortage of nearly everything but students.”
“I imagine that’s caused some trouble,” Grapes observed. “One would hope that those who left would find their way back, after being unrewarded and often blamed for some pampered prince of a privileged offspring not wanting to do their homework. Until that happens, I will have to make myself useful, until I can actually start getting paid for this.”
Principal Celestia nodded and counter-signed a few of the forms Grapes had just gone through.
“If it were up to me I would put you on the payroll right now. Certain schools are also aggressively grabbing as many teaching interns as they can. Were it not for the more loyal members of my staff we would be looking at the next best thing to a remake of the Lord of the Flies. I...don’t suppose you could tell us why you didn’t take up any offers, if any were given?” 
“They reminded me of my Grandmother, Pave Diamond. We never got along, at all, and she always resented my mother falling in love with somebody she considered a ‘peasant’. So I’d rather work with people who are not going to go cross-eyed from looking down their nose at me, for coming from humble origins,” Grapes replied with rather blunt candor.
“Well I for one am very glad that you have chosen Canterlot High as your first foray into teaching.” Luna said boldly, reaching out to shake Sour Grape’s hand. “We shall see where your talents are best applied here. Fortunately we are not without some contacts of our own and have been seeking out as many academic personalities to pad the staff where we can.”
“Thank you for giving me this opportunity. I’ll try to be an asset to the school,” Grapes replied, giving the Vice Principal a firm handshake, looking her squarely in the eye. Luna nodded, with a half smile. Celestia looked pleased, herself, gathering the papers, and filing them in a nearby drawer.
“Why don’t you walk around, and get reaquainted?” she suggested. “You will need to know how to get around, and do so quickly.”
“All right. I’ll do that. Thanks again, for the opportunity,” Grapes said, getting up, to get a tour of the school. She walked out of the office, looking around at the halls, lockers, and even taking time to pause and look at the trophies, a slightly confused look on her face. The basic layout of the school was something she had committed to memory long ago, able to walk from one class to the next without even having to take her nose out of a book and yet she couldn’t shake the feeling of both familiarity and UNfamiliarity hitting her at the same time.
She knew that Principal Celestia had been joking when she said she nearly left skid marks in her hurry to graduate, but now she was starting to get the uncomfortable sensation that maybe that woman had been on to something with that statement. Nothing had changed in the few years she had been gone, paint was the same color, posters were being put up in the same spots lampshades were identical and yet… and yet it was like she was seeing it all for the first time. 
“Huh. Guess I had my nose stuck in a book so far, I didn’t even notice anything, here,” Grapes observed, crossing her arms, and looking around again. She shrugged, then turned to look around more. “Half the teachers are probably gone, thanks to those stuck-up snobs. Wonder who stayed?”
“Oh more than you’d think.” said a rich sounding voice from behind her. “But less than we would have wanted. Honestly, the gall of some people, wanting to be paid extremely well for their hard-earned skills. What IS this world coming to?”
Sour Grapes turned around and there, sweeping the floor, was a tall, almost rail-thin man in a pair of brown pants, a brown work shirt and a single bright yellow rubber glove. Despite his custodial actions, his dark gray hair was impeccably styled as was his goatee. He moved the dry-mop back and forth across the floor in broad figure eight motions that cleaned up every speck of dust and scrap of debris in the most efficient manner. It looked almost as if he were dancing with his tool of choice. Her eyes moved to the name embroidered upon his breast pocket’s patch: Desi. 
“Well, there’s the idea of being appreciated in your work. You’re not going to get that from a bunch of entitled snobs who think you’re there to help their son or daughter become ready for high society,” Grapes observed. “And heaven forbid they give their precious darlings homework.”
“Oh, tell me about it. When I was in the public sector I had my fill of people who were in it for themselves. Whatever happened to the time when it was all about the thrill of discovery?” He gave her a helpless-looking shrug before reaching out with his ungloved hand to shake hers. “Now they want to harness the best and brightest to do things like throw a ball with great accuracy or solve male pattern baldness. Say-lah-vee I suppose. Desi Cordington, at your service… feel free to call me Desi. Or, if you’re furious, Cordington will do.”
“Sour Grapes. Most people find it easier to call me ‘Grapes, because they don’t want to call me ‘Sour’... At least not to my face,” Grapes said, shaking his hand.
“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Sour Grapes. Always happy to welcome fresh meat to the lunatic fringe,” he chortled. “So you managed to resist the siren’s call by our rivals and come to our aid when we need it most. What do you plan on teaching?”
“I’m good at History, and some technical stuff. Health related stuff, too,” Grapes replied. “As for the so-called ‘siren call’, they didn’t have a particularly charming relative that would turn one off from accepting a teaching position at a school full of similar people.”
“That’s as good as a reason as any. Mine is that I wanted, and needed, to get as far away from the rat race as possible, and Celly… sorry, Celestia and I go way back, so I get quite a bit of rope to do my hanging with.”
“Oh, fascinating,” Grapes said with a grin.
“Oh if life is a stage then I am a man playing many parts… sometimes I feel like I am less the sum of my parts and more the parts of my sum.” he said, his tone starting to fall into uncertainty before recovering and going back into a more theatrical presentation. “I am a part-time chemistry teacher, a part-time drama teacher, a part-time bus driver, a part-time philosophy teacher, a part-time home economics teacher, and at the moment I am a part-time broom-pilot. In short I try to fill in as many roles as I can until Lu-Lu and Celly can get fresh faces to fill them.”
“Do you get paid for all that, or are you another intern? Because that sounds like the job description I was given for what I would be doing,” Grapes said with a chuckle.
“I assure you, Sour Grapes, that I get paid nicely for my work around here. Granted it’s still only ONE paycheque for all those jobs but then again I bill them for my hours, not how many staff positions I fill. In the end it’s one of those things about being ‘where I am needed’ not how much money I can make.”
“Well that’s the attitude I will take. I do have an additional source of income from a boarding house I run,” Grapes said with a nod. “So I can think about helping as much as I can, instead of making money.”
“Well now, that’s the sort of person I can respect.” He laughed, putting his gloved hand between her shoulder blades and starting to guide her down the hallway. “Say, would you like your own office? We have a few that are vacant right now and I have keys for just about EVERYthing around here. Think of it like being a hermit crab. Make your move while the space is there.”
“I think that would be a good idea. Get me settled in, and having a sense of permanence, rather than being just transitory. When I actually get the teaching job, I’ll already be established,” Grapes said with a nod. “Also, shows that I’m confident that I will pass the intern period. Though I won’t take a large office. I don’t want to be greedy.”
“Good idea. Will you be wanting a window seat?”
“Doesn’t matter, really,” Grapes said with a shrug. “Having a space of my own to plan things out would be good. Again, not wanting to be greedy.”
“Oh, I doubt it’ll be considered greedy. Once your name’s on the door everyone will just assume it was always there.”
“Well, find a nice medium-sized office, and I’ll move stuff in, and get a plaque made,” Grapes said with a grin. “I like this sense of settling in. Just need to find out what classes I’m going to be teaching, and what else I’m going to be doing, so I can figure out how to make the best use of my time. Anybody in particular I should be aware of? Bullies? Pampered princes or princesses whose parents proceeded to place in public instead of private school? Problem kids? That sort of thing? I like to know who I can give an extra dose of snark to, beforehand.”
“Oh, there are ALWAYS problem students. That’s what makes high school so interesting. Everyone knows that agitation is what gets things to move. We need such students here and there if for no other reason than to make the others look better in comparison,” he paused then pulled out a notepad and scribbled down some notes. “Say, that’s rather good. I’ll save that one for class later.”
“Good to know. I was asking for specific ones who I can take down a peg or two. Probably won’t work, but hey, I’ll have fun trying,” Grapes said with a smirk. “Can’t imagine which class you’d use that particular quote for, however.”
“Oh, probably my Philosophy class, although my Physics class would be definitely more interesting for it. Ah, why not both? It would be interesting to see what results would result from such debate from the two groups.” He saw her expression and placing his hands on his hips. “What? I have doctorates in both you know. Besides, they aren’t as exclusive as one might think.”
“One wouldn’t think that the science of matter in motion would have anything to do with philosophy,” Grapes observed with a raised eyebrow.
“You would be surprised.” Desi chuckled. “Most physicists find that the more they look at the foundations of the universe, the more… spiritual they become. We begin to realise that deep down there is an intensely complex connection of everything to… well… everything else. Chaos is, after all, merely a higher form of Order.”
“Huh. Interesting,” Grapes observed. “Okay. Let’s find this office, shall we?”
“By all means, let’s.” 

Sour Grapes went through her paperwork, looking for what she needed. Her new office wasn’t small, nor was it large. She would call it cozy. Just big enough for a desk, a filing cabinet, a bookshelf and some chairs and one love-seat sized sofa. Oh yes… and the mini fridge. Somewhere Desi scrounged one up for her and left under the window with a potted plant on it. He called it a “hearths’ warming” gift. She wasn’t sure she would ever get a handle on what exactly mister Cordington’s mental processes were but at least they seemed to be benign.
Still it was nice to have a place to put her stuff that wasn’t a locker in the faculty break room, and today she was going to teach her first class, and possibly hobnob with her new co-workers. She never owned a nob, and wasn’t sure what the process of hobbing one involved but would certainly give it a shot. She felt lucky that she was getting a History class to start out. She felt herself on solid ground with History. World History, too, and boy were those pupils in for a surprise with her.

“Ladies and gentlemen, and assorted hooligans, welcome to World History. My name Sour Grapes, that’s MISS Grapes to you lot, and together we will learn how humans in a mere fifteen thousand years went from hunting and gathering--” Grapes started, but was rudely interrupted.
“Miss Grapes?” a chunky kid with orange hair and a black T-shirt said, waving his arm in the air. “How much of this is gonna be on the test?”
Briefly checking her student list revealed this one went by the name of “Snips”, he didn’t look particularly bright, or sound that way but she hoped appearances would be deceiving.
“Ah, yes, ‘the test’. The test will measure if you are an informed, engaged, and productive citizen of the world. And it will take place in schools, in bars, in hospitals, and in places of worship. You will be tested on first dates, in job interviews, while watching football, and while scrolling through your Chatter feed. The test will judge your ability to think about things other than celebrity marriages, whether you’ll be easily persuaded by empty political rhetoric, whether you’ll be able to place your life, and your community in a broader context. The test will last your entire life, and be comprised of the millions of decisions that makes your life yours. And everything, everything is on it.”
“But… nothing that affects our general grades?” he asked.
Sour Grapes had a feeling that sometimes the book was easily discerned by its cover. She facepalmed. “Of course this course affects your grades. But I, rather foolishly, thought you’d appreciate a broader context than the one given by the classroom. Obviously I’m asking too much of your miniscule mind, Mister Snips. Obviously you are not the kind of young man who appreciates the big picture. Do try to pay attention and muddle through the best you can, though.”
She scanned the rest of the students, so many different types, even those who were hard to pigeonhole into a “type”. She was quietly pleased to see most were at the very least attentive, some were even interested and on the whole there were very few who seemed… less than interested. One skinny, orange-skinned youth seated next to Snips was trying hard to be interested but she had a suspicion that the material was probably gonna go well over that teal hair of his but at least he was trying. She picked up the pile of tests she had on her desk and held them up. She felt a little guilty doing this on the first day but she wrote these tests to see exactly how much these students had retained over the summer holidays.
“My little pupils,” Grapes said passing out the papers. “I am popping a quiz on you. I want to see how much you retained. Did you soak up the knowledge, or did your minds turn into sieves over the summer, and let everything run out? Though you may find my class much different than other history classes you’ve had. I don’t focus on ‘great man’ history, because history is more than the actions of ‘great’ men. It is the millions of decisions made by millions of people that have gotten the world to where it is, today. Now finish your quizzes. Will it affect your grade? That’s for me to decide and for you to bemoan, later.”
There were groans but at least they were more of resignation than indignation or rebellion. She set the egg timer for a half hour and let them work mostly in silence save the frantic scribbling of their pencils (or in some cases, erasers) After the half hour, Grapes got up, and called for the tests to be passed up, regardless of their state of being finished.
“I gave you half an hour. That should have been plenty for a pop quiz,” Grapes said as she picked up the papers. “Now. As I said, history is more than names, dates, and events, no matter what the standardized testing people want you to think. It is the millions of decisions, made by the millions of people that make up the world, and those decisions are why the world is the way it is, today. For example… You all may just want to start taking notes, by the way, just saying. For example, is the independently arrived decision, that occurred all over the world, in various different regions, to switch from being hunter-gatherers to agriculturalists. Different societies, in radically different parts of the world switched from foraging, to growing crops. It is not certain why, but a good theory is that these societies just wanted more food.”
From that beginning, Grapes taught about the differences between hunter-gatherers, and farmers, the advantages and disadvantages of both, the environmental impact, and various other factors that made the subject… well fairly interesting. Her commentary was often interspersed with snarky asides, humorous commentary, and some derision earlier historians who would often consider people who were not like them to be savages. It was obvious that she wasn’t going to be an easy teacher, but she wasn’t going to be the sort of teacher that went out of their way to make things unfair, either.
Grapes smiled, watching as the students filed out of the classroom. She erased the board, and put the classroom to rights. There might be another teacher who come into this room, and work here. It was only right to leave a clean room to work in for them. She gathered up her stuff, and walked back to her office, smiling at the plaque on the door with her name. Grapes went inside, and put her items on their shelves. Her next period was one where she’d be helping in the Library, along with another one of the teachers, by the name of Cheerilee.

After a period in the library, Grapes decided to enjoy a free period, and get some coffee. She could definitely use the caffeine. The faculty break room had seen better days. Everything inside from the scratched Melmac counter to the well-worn chrome and formica table betrayed that this room was always the last to see any upgrades. Still, there was a comfortable feeling about it, like entering your grandma’s house or something. She went over to the coffee urn and placing her travel mug under it, topped it off. 
The door opened and in came another member of the faculty, He was dressed in a brown sweater with a gray shirt and purple tie beneath it. The purplish hair on his head was too perfectly styled to be natural, and had such a naturally grumpy look on his face that it suggested he didn’t smile often. He dropped the heavy books under his arm onto the table before pulling a large mug that read “Not my department” in red letters from the cupboard and waited patiently for her to finish filling hers. 
Grapes let him have his turn at the urn and looked him over once again.
“Let me make an educated guess… Mathematics Teacher?”
“Congratulations kid, yer smarter than you look.”
“Wow. That was really snarky, and I know snarky. I’m quite the connoisseur, actually. I can respect good snark,” Grapes said with a nod.
“Then we’ll get along just fine. Name’s Cranky Doodle Donkey. It’s a family name, and before you ask only one person gets to call me Doodle and you’re not her. Cranky is fine, Mister Donkey is good too.” He paused a moment in thought before pouring honey in with his coffee. “And at the moment I’m pretty much the entire mathematics department. Lousy quitters.”
“They’ll discover the lure of a fat paycheck isn’t worth the aggravation… eventually,” Grapes observed. “I have family who are rich and snobby. They love to blame the teachers for their precious little snowflake’s shortcomings. And how about I call you ‘Donkey’, if you don’t mind my slipping occasionally into a Scots brogue, ‘e’ery now an’ again. Same principle with my name. I’m Sour Grapes, but everybody calls me ‘Grapes’, because nobody wants to call me ‘Sour’ to my face.”
“Good to meet you then. Welcome to Canterlot High. We’re understaffed, under equipped and under pressure. Then again you probably got told that by the ‘princesses’ coming in.”
“Princesses?” Grapes asked, raising her eyebrow. “I met the principals, but no princesses.”
“Sorry. It’s a local joke among the staff. They’re nice enough but don’t press your luck with Celestia and Luna,” he elaborated. “They're no wicked queens so we just call them the princesses.”
“And why are queens wicked? I swear it’s a trope that allows writers to not have female rulers not take the full responsibility,” Grapes groused. “Instead they get away with having the female rulers remain princesses, and not take the full mantle of queen, because most literary queens tend to be of the wicked variety, and nobody seems to find that annoying, or contrived, or even wrong!”
“Kid, I’m a math teacher, literacy is another department altogether.
“I think you mean ‘literature’,” Grapes observed. “Because maths are a part of being literate. You know, the traditional three R’s of reading, writing and ‘rithmatic.”
“Once again proving our nation’s spelling habits never were that strong even before texting came into style,” He smirked before having a seat at the table. “At the end of the day I’m happy if my students are NUMERATE and leave being literate for teachers better armed for teaching that. Most writing I do is word problems… boy do the students hate me for those.”
“Ah yes. Word problems. The logic puzzles of the math world. Most students hate them, because they can be tricky buggers, forcing them to actually use their brains,” Grapes observed. “And it seems the Powers That Be don’t want people who can use their brains…”
“If they could just put the talk-boxes down for five minutes maybe they could learn something… or not risk future arthritis in their thumbs.”
“There is that, but I was talking about this worrying trend towards standardized testing posited by politicians, who have no background in education what-so-ever. I know our current system is based on an old Prussian system, but it’s what we got, right now. There are some ways to improve it, but they’re experimental, and most aren’t willing to risk the money,” Grapes observed. “But you are right about the cellphones. That’s why I’ve stuck with my good old dumbphone, with no texting plan.”
“Same here. I’m not important enough to need to be on call twenty-four/seven.”
“If it’s an emergency, I’d rather hear about it vocally, to be honest,” Grapes said with a nod. “If not in person, then on the bloody phone. I want to know more than ‘oops, flooded basement, ell oh ell’.”
“So I might as well ask you how’s your first day going?”
“So far so good. I managed to engage my students, and they seemed to enjoy the history lesson about the transition from hunter-gatherers to agriculture,” Grapes observed. “Though my attempt to introduce one of the smaller minds in the school to a bigger picture went over like a lead zeppelin. Guess some covers reflect their contents. Alas. I do wonder if Principal Celestia would let me try some experiments in gamification...”
“Gamification? Never heard of it. What’s that all about?”
“It’s a way of fostering engagement in any particular subject, by making use of the methods that exist in games, more specifically video games. Experience points, progress bars, achievements, and the like,” Grapes explained.
“Maybe I should get in on this and teach my students to play blackjack under the pretense of all the possible combinations that can add up to twenty-one.”
“That’s one way to do it,” Grapes said with a nod. “I thought I’d start small in my history classes with the ‘plot your path’ game. I’ll pick two subjects from the next chapter, and ask the students to find path, give a list of websites, and then tell how the two subjects, and websites are linked. The person who can do it with the fewest page jumps… Will win… something… I need to figure out what, though,” Grapes said, thoughtfully.
“Kids are pretty simple creatures when you get down to it. Give them something that looks like it has social or monetary value and they’ll suck it up like the little sponges they are,” Cranky grumbled looking in the fridge and pulling out a brown paper bag with the name ‘Doodle’ on it. “How about a coupon for something from Sugarcube Corner? Let them stuff their face while you stuff their brains?”
“That might work. Thanks for the idea, Donkey,” Grapes said with a nod. “I’ll have to see about that with the proprietors of course. Starting small is the key, and working up to the bigger things. May be different than what we usually do, but what we usually do isn’t exactly working the best, right now.”
He pulled a glazed doughnut out of the bag and nodded. “Tell you what, try out your little experiment and let me know if it works. If it does I may have to learn a few new tricks.”
“Will do. Every little trick helps, I think,” Grapes said with a nod.

After her free period, Grapes found herself facing a class full of older teenagers, close to her own age. She stood at the head of the class, exuding as much authority as she possibly could, but somehow she knew this wasn’t going to be easy.
She had selected her clothes to set her apart from the class. It was hard to be considered their teacher if you wore jeans, sneakers and a tee-shirt. Slacks, a business-like blazer, and a white button-down shirt was fairly formal. Even if the blazer was a light material, in these waning days of summer. She definitely looked the part of the professional. She looked out at the students as they settled in, the sea of brightly colored hair and skin tones was oddly familiar to her although she never quite believed she would ever see them from this end of the classroom. Even during the time she was taking the education courses. It seemed so surreal, at the university. Now the reality of it was looking her in the face, with various expressions of mild shock, and one of blatant disbelief.
Of course there was always the basics. The tried and true lesson that all teachers fell back on. Telling everyone who you were as you wrote it on the chalkboard. Her cursive writing was well-honed from years of just trying to stop it from looking like she wrote it by remote control.
“Good afternoon, everybody, I’m Miss Grapes, and I’m here to help you with your journey through the wonderful subject of history,” she said in her most authoritative tone.
“Wait…. you’re kidding right?” The interrogative came from the one student with the expression of blatant disbelief… and hair that could be used as a signal flare. “You can’t be that much older than we are.”
“Congratulations. You have basic powers of observation. Can you use that techni-colored head of yours to figure out why or is simple logic beyond your comprehension?” Grapes quipped back. “Actually I’ll make it easy for you. You see, I am what is called a genius. I excelled at school, and blazed through elementary and high school, then went to college, learning how to be a teacher. Now here I am, in a school that apparently needs me, trying to teach students who are uninterested, apathetic, and one that happens to be an ungrateful jerk. However, I shall still try. Because I believe that in order not to repeat the mistakes of the past one must learn about them, and learn from them.” She did a quick check of her roster, finding who the mouthy student happened to be, before continuing. “So, Miss Sunset Shimmer, have I explained my being here to your satisfaction?”
“Fine. Just so long as we’re not wasting one another’s times here, ‘Miss’ Sour Grapes.” Shimmer said with a subtle narrowing of the eyes. “Just keep in mind you’re not the only genius in this room.” That elicited some “ooohs” from the other students in the room.
“Oh really? Well, well, well, then you won’t mind extra assignments, Miss Sunset Shimmer. After all, wouldn’t want your finely tuned mind to go all soft, and squishy, now would we?” Grapes said narrowing her own eyes, and a slight smirk on her lips.
“Bring it on,” the self-indicated “genius” answered with a smirk. “When I first arrived in this... town, it was from a… distant, miserable, backwards, little rural backwater. In the last few years I had to play catch up in almost every subject just so I wouldn’t feel like I was some kind of alien in this world. In fact if you can challenge me, I just might consent to calling you my equal.”
“Challenge accepted,” Grapes said with a grin. “I may even tap that brain of yours for some projects I have in mind. Now, I’m sure you all are expecting me to start rattling off names and dates, and the names of great men who made history. Let me tell you now, I’m not that kind of teacher. ‘Great Man’ history tends to put the bulk of historical happenings into the hands of the few, and makes a person believe that they can’t do anything significant, unless they become great, powerful or famous. History, however is more than that. It is more than great men, and women, more than dates, and events…”
"Y'all mean the good ol' hard-workin everyday types, don'tcha?" a blonde girl wearing a cowboy hat asked.
“Well yes. Sometimes the good old hard-working everyday types actually become historical figures in Great Man History because they made a decision that ended up being remembered, and recorded. However, I’m more interested in teaching you about the causes and effects. It will be more memorable, and interesting, and be more like telling you the story of the events; than just the dates, and events and the great men who participated,” Grapes asserted. “So, who’s ready to start on this journey?”
“Heck, Ah am,” the blonde from before asserted.
“Sure, why not?” Sunset Shimmer stated with a shrug. Soon, one by one, the students agreed, and then the class truly began. Grapes was right. It was a bit harder. However that was all part of the challenge. Another challenge was Sunset Shimmer. Grapes was going to have to work extra hard to find extra difficult assignments for that one, but it was something she was looking forward to doing.

Sour Grapes’ first day as a teaching intern ended, and she was rather glad it did. While challenging and fulfilling, it had also been quite draining. She was looking forward to going home, and relaxing. She opened the door of her subcompact car, putting her heavy bag of take-home work inside, before getting in herself.
Pulling her seat belt into place she took a moment to take a deep breath and let it out slowly to decompress. She did not want to start driving while on an emotional high, whether positive or negative. It could impede her judgement. She was about to twist the key in the ignition when an electronic version of Harder Better Faster Stronger trilled through the air, indicating someone was calling her cell. Grapes pulled out the flip-phone, and looked at the caller ID window. Not recognising the number, she flipped it open.
“Is this about the room?” She asked, without preamble.
“I ah… yes. Yes it is, how did you know?” came a rather nice sounding male voice on the other end.
“I’m getting a call from a number I don’t recognise, at the time I specified for calling in the ad I placed in the paper. It’s not a very long deductive leap,” Grapes replied.
“Right… Well, yes I’m calling about the room, or maybe I should say rooms. Two separate living spaces will be needed. I hope this won’t be a problem.”
“No problem at all, honestly. I’ve got quite a few rooms available. I’m at 2525 Sunshine Avenue. I’ll meet you there, and let you check out the available rooms,” Grapes replied, rubbing her eyes.
“Thank you very much. See you there in half an hour or so, uh…” There was a moment of paper rustling. “Miss Sour Grapes.”
“I should be there, by then,” Grapes said, starting her car, and hanging up the phone. She drove back to her house, inherited from a relative of her mother’s, trying to keep calm in the face of afternoon traffic. She had come to a halt at a red light when her phone went off again. Activating the speakerphone feature she heard a cultured female voice on the other end. 
“Good afternoon. Would I be addressing Miss Sour Grapes right now?”
“You would be, yes. Lucky you caught me at a traffic light, or else I would not have answered. Are you calling about the rooms?” Grapes replied.
“Yes I am. A friend and I are in need of rooms that are either near or allow rapid transit to the university grounds. I am hoping that we are not too late to take a look at your property.”
“You’re just in time, actually. I’ve got two others meeting me at 2525 Sunshine Avenue. I’m on a public transit route, that has a direct pass to the University.”
“Oh how WON-derful!” the voice said with such cheer Grapes nearly believed it was forced until she spoke to someone in the background.. “Sirocco! This one sounds ideal. Shall we take a look at it?” 
“That is most fortuitous, Queenie. By all means, let us bake paste!”
“Make… it’s make HASTE, Sirocco… oh never mind. Miss Sour Grapes? We shall meet you there shortly then.”
“I’ll see you there,” Grapes said, before hanging up, and paying attention to the traffic, again. This was, apparently, going to be interesting.
A few minutes later the phone rang again. Grapes sighed and pulled over to a mini-mall parking lot before answering. 
“Ahoy there, I be looking for one Sour Grapes. I be wishing to rent a room and the property listed seems to be in the right location for me.”
The fellow this time sounded almost, no he DID sound like a stereotype. She could practically imagine this guy behind a large wooden steering wheel on a schooner or other seagoing vessel. If he was for real he probably had an obvious tattoo or two. She knew she would bust a gut if he showed up in a sailors hat.
“Good afternoon. You’ve reached Sour Grapes. Go ahead and meet me there. I’ve got several other interested parties coming already,” she replied. 
“Aye aye then. I’m only a few blocks away. I’ll meet you there then Miss Grapes.” A horrendous grinding sound came through the speaker for a moment before some soft muttering. “As soon as I remember how to drive manual. Arrr.” 
“Brake, clutch, then shift,” Grapes suggested.
“Much obliged, miss. See you there.”
Despite the interruptions, Sour Grapes felt strangely optimistic with renting out the rooms today. She had not expected five interested parties so soon. At least one pair were going to the university so being so close to the bus did make it a prime location. She wondered momentarily if she should have put an ad in a campus newspaper then brushed it off. The students who found her and would hopefully not be the ‘party college’ types. 
She turned down the side street to her home and then into the back lane behind it. She liked having a back yard to the home. It gave a nice discreet place to park her car so she would never have to worry about someone else stealing her spot, having converted the tool shed into a garage helped too. During winter she could park it in a sheltered spot with a plug for the block heater and never have to worry about scraping ice off the windows.
Pulling all her work out of the car she walked the long way around to the front of her home when a low rumbling sound filled the air. It wasn’t loud in the usual way but deep like a tiger purring. Searching for the source of the noise her eyes were attracted to a brilliant orange and black motorcycle pulling up… at least she classified it as a motorcycle. it had two wheels at the front with the handlebars and one in the back. The fellow riding it pulled it right up in front of her home where it came to a halt and the engine was switched off. The yellow helmet with the black visor looked over at her home, then down at a newspaper in it’s one hand, then back at her home again.
Grapes came up to her door, standing by it, watching the fellow on the motorbike, arms crossed, heavy bag by her feet. She was not going to talk to a helmet. Her whole demeanor just seemed to ask: “Well?”
The guy took off his helmet with a motion that was so cinematic he probably practiced it in the mirror. The chinstrap was undone with the snap of his fingers, then both hands were placed on either side of the helmet and lifted up, then forwards and down to the handlebars, while he shook his wild mane of yellow hair to get the “helmet-hair” out of it. Yep, she decided, pure Hollywood choreography there. Still it seemed to suit him. The racing jacket, the jeans, the cycle and bold look of yellow hair with orange skin. Not that she was impressed. It just seemed to suit him.
“So, Mister Hollywood, here about a room?” Grapes asked, casually. “Or did I talk to you on the phone, earlier?”
“I figured I’d come right to the source before I got on my phone,” he said, sliding off his cycle and heading over to where she stood. “It’s not safe to talk on the phone while driving so I just turn mine off. Also less aggravating to others. I was stuck behind this one character, I could tell every-single-time they got a call they would pull over or pause at the stoplight a little extra long… I mean it’s safe and all but still when you’re behind them…” he sighed.
“Sorry to have annoyed you, but I wasn’t expecting to be called about my ad so promptly. I swear it’s like they were all just waiting for the time specified,” Grapes quipped. “Not like I’m spending all day, in a high school, trying to pound knowledge into the ungrateful youth.”
“Woah, wait. That was you? Oh… I guess this means I’m sleeping under a bridge tonight huh?” he managed to joke.
“Oh, heavens no. I may just charge you more rent, though… Or not,” Grapes replied, with a smirk. “Just got to wait for everybody else to show up.”
The blue-line bus pulled up to the bus stop at the end of the block and four bodies got off in animated discussion with one another. A rather pretty sparkly-skinned girl with curly blond hair she would kill for led the group followed by a dusky exotic girl, a light gray-skinned boy who had the kind of body best on display at a beach and… uh oh. A little dark-gray kid with purple hair and dark glasses with a white cane. She hoped she wouldn’t have a viable reason to say no to him. She’d feel guilty turning down someone with a “visible” disability. 
“Just got to wait for Captain Ahab, and we’ll be all set,” Grapes observed, as the students came up onto the porch. “Hello, everybody, I’m Sour Grapes, your soon-to-be landlady. I know. I’m young. Get over it.”
A few moments a powder blue Pinto came down the block and came to a stop right behind the orange cycle. It gave a teeth-clenching grinding of gears before sputtering to a rest.	
“I told him, brake, clutch THEN shift,” Grapes uttered with a shake of her head.
The door opened and out stepped an older man sea-green skin, seafoam green and white hair and a patch of grey stubble about his jaw. He smoothed his red and white stripe shirt, straightened his mariner’s jacket then reached back into the car and pulled out a simple captain’s hat. Grapes nearly sighed with relief. She had imagined him with the Dixie-cup hat and would have laughed if he did wear one. At least this had a certain level of respect attached to it.
He strode up the walk quite confidently, and there was a bit of a shift in the mood of the students around her. They straightened up a little and the familiarity they had with one another settled down a notch. The token adult of the group smiled when he saw them and held out his arms.
“Ah, good to see the lot of you! What brings you to... oh, yer getting a place to live too, aint’cha? Good on ye.”
“Well, looks like the gang’s all here. Everybody ready for the tour?” Grapes asked.
The group gave various sounds of agreement but it was the older gentleman who seemed to speak for them.
“Aye, Lass. Lead the way.”
“All right. Right inside would be the foyer,” Grapes said, opening the door. “If you all stay you’ll be getting keys to this front door, and to your individual rooms. The ad said ‘BYOF’, meaning Bring Your Own Food, and yes I’m set up for such an arrangement.” She lead them into a beautiful old house, the woodwork, despite its conversion to a boarding house, was still intact. “I will add damages to your rent. So don’t mar the wood, unless it is unavoidable.”
“Right,” the orange biker said, poking his head into a closet and looking around. “No nails or tacks to hang things up unless we get your say-so. Gotcha.”
“There is such a thing as non-marring double sided tape,” Grapes said, before opening the door to what was once the butler’s pantry. There was a double row of stacked mini-fridges, all numbered and sporting hasps for locks. “Here is the food storage. The number on the fridge corresponds with the number of your eventual room. You provide your own lock, if you feel the need.”
“They’re so small. It’s kinda neat to see how far technology’s gotten since we got electricity.” said the young boy in the dark glasses, and catching Grapes off guard. Apparently he wasn’t quite as blind as she first assumed. Then again there were different kinds of blindness in the world and not all of them involved a total lack of sight. “Do you have freezer space too?”
“Yes… Right now it’s communal, but I’m working on finding good quality mini freezers to copy the fridge arraignment. It’s hard to find good quality for a good price, unfortunately,” Grapes replied.
“That’s good. Sometimes what I want to save for later needs to be frozen solid.”
“All right. Freezer is in the basement, as is the laundry facilities. Be careful; the stairs are kind of steep. I have smaller rooms on the ground floor, and larger rooms upstairs,” Grapes said. “Which would you like to check out, first?”
“I ah… would personally like to see the larger rooms first.” The muscular young man said quietly. “I’m leaning towards living space with some elbow room.”
“We may as well begin at the top and work our way down then,” The elegant blond agreed.
“All right, everybody follow me,” Grapes said, leading them up a rather nice staircase to a long hallway, with doors on either side. “There is one bathroom at the end of the hallway, and another by the study. You can sort out which is the girls’ and which is the guys’.”
“Very nice. Is there any issues with water consumption?”, the blonde inquired. “One of the places we checked out was charging each person for the amount of water that came out of the tap and also what went down the drain. You don’t usually see that set-up outside of countries like Germaney.”
“Just don’t overdo it. I’ll be getting an average of your usage, over three to four months residency, and if you use a lot more than your usual, I’ll add that to the rent, with an itemization,” Grapes explained. “I am figuring you are going to be here, at least, a year, going to the university, correct?”
“Oh yes. Definitely,” she said with a little gesture of her hand. “I’m certain I can speak for all my peers here that we are in for the long haul at the U of C… oh wait. My mistake. Stormy’s little friend there will be going to Canterlot High. He’s rather bright but it would be putting the cart before the horse to send him to university before he’s got the credentials.”
“I would like to go some day.” The boy agreed. “Mister Squall says it’s a nice place to go and learn.”
“Huh. How ‘bout that. I teach at Canterlot High,” Grapes said with a chuckle. “Maybe you’ll be in my World History course.”
“That would be awesome.”
“That it would, lad,” the older gentleman said patting the boy on the shoulder before looking back at Grapes. “But let’s let her finish the tour before we unpack, shall we?”
“Well, you check out the rooms, and see which ones you’d like. If you don’t find anything up here, we’ll move downstairs,” Grapes asserted. “Sound like a plan?”
“Aye. Give us five minutes up here and then we’ll take a look at the main floor again,” the older man chuckled. “Call me an old naval man but I’d like to know all me options before I get too attached to my quarters.”
“Makes sense to me, sir,” Grapes responded, with a nod, as she stood in the hallway, waiting on them to check out the rooms.
“Miss Grapes, this room here has a door in the wall that is locked,” The dusky girl asked. “Is there something wrong with it or does it go somewhere I do not wish to be?” Grapes went to check out the door, then checked the room that shared the wall with said door, and the dusky girl’s chosen room.
“That just connects these two rooms, here. Was a suite, originally, but I kept it, in case I got a couple with a family, and wanted to be able to have their kids in a separate room, but able to check up on them without going out in the hallway,” Grapes explained.
“Well I cannot speak for the others but I am very content with this room. It is very comfortable looking,” she said before the blond approached them. 
“I like the one on the other side of the wall myself, Sirocco. If we can get the key for the dividing door then you and I can visit one another without waking the others by going through the hallway.”
“Oh! I like that idea, Queenie! We will be members of the secret sissy-hood!”
“Sisterhood,” Grapes deadpanned. “And the door unlocks from Sirocco’s side. There’s a twist latch, there.” Grapes went into what was now Sirocco’s room, and demonstrated the simple latch, opening the divider door. “There you go.”
“Thank you, Sour Grapes,” Queenie said looking back and forth between the rooms from it’s connecting door. “Don't get me wrong. I love all my friends here like brothers, an uncle... an annoying brother. It's just sometimes it's nice to sit down and hang out with another girl… even if her equish isn't as strong as I'd like."
“It is not really my fault, Queenie. Equish has so many words and expressions that actually mean other things altogether that it’s frustrating at times to get it right.” Sirocco gave a short sigh. “Three days… three days to find ‘pneumonia’ in the dictionary. What madman spells such a word with a ‘P’?”
“Kind of a good question,” Grapes observed.
“Aye. Wait until she finds out how a word spelt Gee-aych-oh-tee-aye is actually pronounced.” The older man chuckled before speaking quietly to Grapes. “You mentioned you teach at the High School. How long ago did classes begin?”
“Today,” Grapes said with a nod.
“Oh good. I was worried I missed far more than that. Miss Celestia came to me far later than I would normally have liked to ask me to join her merry crew.”
“You… You are a teacher at Canterlot High?” Grapes asked.
“Aye, well as of tomorrow I will be,” he chuckled before extending a hand that felt like it had been assembled from callouses, old leather and scar tissue rather than skin. “Summer Squall at yer service lass. I’ve lived a long interesting life around this big old world and some of that was being a teacher in places where they are in short supply. Although this year, it seems it’s in a country where things are a little more familiar for me.”
“Fantastic,” Grapes said with a nod. “Also… I should make sure I have something that will suit you. Might look bad if I kick out a salaried teacher…”
“Well I won’t hold it against ye if’n you do. Although if you do I may have to ask Miss Celestia if she could recommend a bunk somewhere else. This was the best I could find within me price range.”
“Do you have a preference? You seem like a man of simple tastes, so something downstairs may suit you more,” Grapes said, with a slight panic mode engaging. “Quite frankly, we could really use you at CH, because… Well a lot of private schools yoinked the talent. I chose Canterlot High, because I have snooty relatives, and I probably would have hated teaching snooty bratlings… So downstairs may work. They’re a bit smaller, and… stuff.”
“So… that’s why Celestia called me right on the end of me contract with them missionaries,” Squall chuckled and stroked his stubble-covered chin. “She knew me back from me naval days. Well, more from the end of them. But she was surprised I had used a naval scholarship to go into teaching, I saw it as a way to keep traveling the world and yet keep getting people to pay me to do it.”
“That’s incredibly clever,” Grapes observed, then looked back at everybody else. “Everybody find a room to their liking?”
“I think everyone likes what’s on the second floor, Miss Grapes,” the little boy said, shrugging. “I would like to see the other ones before I make my decision though. That is, if you don’t mind.”
“I think that’s a reasonable request, Earshot.” Squall said rubbing the boy’s purple mop of hair before turning back to Grapes. “Lead the way Lass.”
“All right. Let’s head down,” Grapes said, heading down stairs.
She noticed that while only Squall and Earshot needed to be with her the big fellow was following closely. It was when they were going down the short hallway to the main floor living quarters when Earshot stopped abruptly. He stood there a moment before gently raising and lowering himself on his toes with his head cocked to the side. He then touched the wall immediately to his left. 
“Miss Grapes? I think… there’s a space behind this wall. It sounded a little different when we walked past here.”
“Wow… Good ears, there… uh… What IS your name, anyway? I know Mister Beach Body is probably called ‘Stormy’. Mister Squall introduced himself. Don’t know Mister Hollywood’s name, either,” Grapes uttered looking at her youngest tennant.
“Oh! I’m Earshot!” he chirped turning to speak to Grapes. “I’m from Stygian Cove.”
Stormy’s hand came to rest on Earshot’s shoulder and Grapes became aware of the handsome young man again. 
“Earshot is a foriegn exchange student and I’m kinda responsible for him. His home region is… unique, to put it lightly. Both when talking about the society and the people living there.”
“Ah. Okay… Cool… Only have the one room with a connecting door… Uh.. You don’t mind him being downstairs, you being the responsible party and all?” Grapes asked, looking up at the guy. Big. Definitely big. And cute. Definitely cute. Why was she even thinking this? Grapes quickly got a hold of herself, and waited for his answer.
“What do you say, Earshot? Think you’ll be good down here?”
“I think so, Stormfront. We’re still in the same building and I’ll feel like I have some… what’s the word I’m thinking of? Like ‘automobile’ but it means I have some control over my own actions?”
“Probably ‘autonomy’.” Stormy prompted.
“That’s the one. ‘Autonomy’. Maybe there’s a slightly smaller room down here. The ones up there are a little too big for me. I feel like I’m taking up room I don’t need.”
“But… Ugh. Fine. That’s a secret passage down to the downstairs rooms. There is one locked room, that’s kind of a panic room. Did I mention my snooty relatives? I hide from them in that panic room,” Grapes explained, using the hidden switch, and opening the passage. “Seriously, though. My relative? The absolute worst.”
Earshot slipped down the narrow hallway and peeked into what would have at one time been the chef’s personal quarters. He smiled and nodded back to her.
“This one. I like it, it looks like my room back home.” 
“Guess Earshot’s people aren’t big on using more space than necessary.” Stormy said with a smile. 
“I suppose so. You sure, Earshot?” Grapes asked.
“Yes.I’m sure. I don’t have a lot of personal stuff, and when I go back I can’t really carry a lot with me so I’m trying not to collect more than what I need while here.”
“Unless you count little lead soldier figurines.” Stormy chuckled, causing Earshot to blush.
“I don’t know why but I can’t stop at just one.”
“Lead soldier figurines?” Grapes asked, raising an eyebrow. “Are they all different?”
“Oh yes. I find them at swap meets, junk stores, flea markets… so many different kinds. Some people even paint them.” Earshot reminisced. “I even started reading up on the people they were based on.”
“Earshot’s probably on his way to being an amateur military historian from this hobby.” Stormy laughed.
“Might be interesting. I’m a history teacher. I’m one who doesn’t do ‘Great Man History’, though,” Grapes observed. “Mister Squall? Find anything to your liking?”
“Oh yes. While you were speakin’ there I found a nice room around the corner. The one with the nice big windows facin’ east. Nothing like sunlight shooting into yer eyes to make sure yer awake in the mornin’.”
“Glad to that you found something. I suppose you’ll all be settling in, I suppose?” Grapes asked.
“I don’t see why not.” Squall said patting his pockets before pulling out his wallet. “Everyone seems happy enough. How do you prefer to be paid? Me? I be partial to cash and checks over plastic. I never was comfortable with money I couldn’t see.”
“I’ve a preference to getting checks, or cash, myself. Though I always wait until I am sure the tenant will have the money in their bank… I’ve had checks bounce on me, before,” Grapes uttered with a sigh.
“How about a bank draft then? It’s been a few years since I’ve done one of them but I’m sure they still do it on request.”
“Look, I’m cool with checks. I just… ask when your payday’s going to be, and if you get direct deposit,” Grapes said scuffing a foot. “Then I deposit the check that day… You know, just making sure.”
An unfamiliar jingling noise from behind her caused Sour Grapes to turn to see Earshot counting out coins in his palm. 
“I would like to pay you now if that’s okay, Miss Grapes. Dad always says that debits are for governments, not their people.” he paused a moment looking over the dozen or so silver coins in his hands. “Was it two crescents to the bit or two bits make up a gibbous? I’m never gonna get used to foreign money exchange rates.” 
“Uh… I’m not sure about the exchange rate, myself. But the rent is in bucks,” Grapes replied.
“Okay. Mom and Dad keep sending me a living allowance but they keep forgetting that money over here isn’t solid silver like it is back home.”
“Solid… silver… Holy carp… I’ll have to check the metal prices, and get back to you on how many of those I’ll need… Uh.. How much do you think each coin weighs?” Grapes asked.
“I’m not entirely certain. Most of Europe is on metric and you guys are still doing imperial.” Earshot mused finding the dining room table and emptying a small leather bag full of coins on it. “Most people treat my money like a curiosity than money. Probably why I get best trade value at flea markets. Food vendors just look at me funny.”
“Tell you what, tomorrow after school, we’ll visit somebody who can tell you how much your money is worth in bucks and bits. Sound good?” Grapes asked. “You’ll be selling it for the value of the silver in it, rather than the value on the coins. So you may get more than you think. Then we’ll set you up with a bank account, to keep your bucks and bits safe.”
“Oh! Thank you very much, Miss Grapes. That would help a lot.”
“Least I can do, Earshot,” Grapes said with a smile.

The next morning, Grapes got off the phone with the manager of her credit union, having made an appointment after school. This fellow, Even Measure, would help Earshot get the best price for his silver coins, and get him set up with his account. The money wouldn’t be available until the next business day, but his cash would be safe, and he’d be learning Equestrian economics.
“ATTENTION ALL TENANTS! ANYBODY WITH MORNING CLASSES, YOU’D BETTER BE GETTING YOUR SORRY PLOTS UP!” Grapes yelled up the grand staircase.
There was a sound of feet hitting the floor and running about from up above. From down the hall Squall’s door opened wide and he strode down the hall dressed in a boxer’s robe, an undershirt, a pair of bunny slippers and… red and white striped boxers. 
“Good Mornin’, Miss Grapes! Glad to know I ain’t gonna wake up the landlord this early in the day. You teach this early as well, eh?”
“I’m an intern, so I have to be there from open to close, so I can be as much help as I can,” Grapes replied, then she grinned wickedly. “That was fun, though… I wonder how many of them do have morning classes?”
“Just a few. Not Stormy though. He has a noon class but he feels obligated to walk his young charge to school… so to speak.”
“I was just going to give him a ride, since we’re going to the same place,” Grapes said with a shrug. “Never mind introduce him to the principals. Though Stormy may need to be there to do the registration thing… Not sure if he’s going to fit in my car…”
“Don’t worry about him, lass,” Squall said shaking some rather pungent-smelling coffee into the basket on the coffee maker. “Mister Front may seem rather bulky but he’s surprisingly… flexible.”
Grapes blinked. Then shook her head to prevent her thoughts from going straight to the gutter.
“So what’s yer first class? Mine’s geography. Thinking of introducing them to locating things by latitude and longitude.”
“That’ll appeal to the nerds in your classroom, but I can hear the screams of protest, even now… Go for it,” Grapes said with a wicked grin. “I teach, so far, two world history classes.”
“I could sweeten the deal with a map of the city and promises of treasure to those who can do the orienteering.” he chuckled. “Hmmm… maybe for later in the week.”
“Oh! That’s geocaching,” Grapes observed. “Believe it or not, that’s kind of a popular pastime for some people.”
“Geocaching? Sounds like a treasure hunt to me!” He laughed, before all but throwing himself into a kitchen chair. “I should look into that. Heaven knows I could use a hobby that reminds me of me youth.”
“It’s one way to make geometry more interesting. I’m looking into other ways to engage the student’s interest, too, including some gamification techniques,” Grapes said, as she ate her breakfast.
“I wonder if Celestia would let me yell out cuss words. That’d catch the attention of the little buggers. Especially if I were dressed up as a pirate.” he paused and put his feet up on another chair, letting Grapes see the bunnies were smoking little plushie cigars. “I’m certain I packed me sabre.”
“Uhm… Stow the sailor-speak and keep the pirate rigging and you might get their attention from the moment you kick the door in.”
“Aye-aye.” he said with a salute.
By the time the others had come downstairs, the kitchen was thick with the deliciously bitter smell of a coffee probably grown by the devil himself. Sour Grapes could have sworn that it even LOOKED thicker than a normal coffee when Squall poured the midnight black fluid into his cup. Without hesitation Sirocco also helped herself to a mug of the sinister-looking brew while everyone else had the orange juice.
“Earshot, you cool with me giving you a ride to school?” Grapes asked, having finished her breakfast in the communal kitchen, instead of in her own.
The young boy paused eating his bowlful of cereal and actually thought about it a moment before answering. “Yes I am, Miss Grapes. I accept your offer of a ride to school.”
“We’re going to the same place. Makes sense for you to ride with me,” Grapes observed. “I don’t think you can fit in my car, Squall… Though I DO know how to drive a stick.”
“That’s alright, lass. Driving manual is like getting your sea legs. It may take a while but when you get it down you wonder why you had so much trouble to begin with.”
“Actually, the main thing you’ve got to remember is to push the clutch, before shifting. Brake, clutch, shift. In that order,” Grapes replied with a slight smirk, then she began to imitate a crotchity old man. “Brake, clutch shift! Brake, clutch, shift! You youngan’s and yer automatic shifters got it easy, y’hear me! That’s why yer learnin’ manual, so you’ll appreciate yer automatic shifter! Brake, clutch, shift, or else you’ll be needin’ a new transmission.”
“I’ll have you know most battleships don’t come with a clutch.” Squall joked. 
“I doubt Grandpa Grapes would know. He was Infantry, not Navy,” Grapes quipped back. “Tough old coot, he was, but affectionate… in his own unique way.”
“Sounds like he was a good man.” Squall said retrieving a plate of pre-fried bacon and eggs from the fridge and putting them into the microwave. He touched his face and sighed before pulling a rechargeable razor from his robe pocket and doing a touch-up while his breakfast warmed up. “Brake, Clutch, Shift. Brake, Clutch, Shift. Jest like a waltz. One, two, three. One, two, three. Brake, Clutch. Shift.”
“Yeah. Forgetting the clutch is what causes that wonderful sound,” Grapes said with a roll of her eyes. She got up, gathering her things for the day. “Canterlot High sub-coach express will be departing in about fifteen minutes. All abooooard.” After making that announcement, Grapes went outside to her small car, and opened its hatchback, settling her accoutrements into the special basket she had secured in the back in the rare case she had passengers. Most of the time said basket was used to keep her groceries from scattering all over her titular trunk department. Grapes went to the passenger side, and adjusted the seat as far back as it would go, considering the sheer size of one of her passengers. Earshot would have to sit in the back. On the driver’s side. Now all Grapes had to do was wait for her passengers to join her.
Earshot was first there. Heavy goggles over his eyes and white cane out, he came down the sidewalk at a light jog before reaching the car. He paused and touched the door frame and then ducked into the back. 	
“Thank you, Miss Grapes.”
“No problem. Seemed silly to make you ride the bus, since we’re going to the same place,” Grapes said with a chuckle. “Just hope Stormy can fit. Subcompacts tend to be ‘one-size-fits-the-most-average’, but I didn’t want a big car, or a gas guzzler.”
“That makes sense. Petrol is kind of expensive, isn’t it?”
“That it is. No matter where in the world you are, gas is expensive,” Grapes said, nodding, as she checked her watch. “And Stormy’s got five minutes.”
“Oh, he was right behind me, Miss Grapes. I think he stopped to grab his paperwork.”
Earshot tugged the back of the seat back into position just as Stormy exited the house. He was carrying a briefcase and adjusting a tie on his shirt as he ran down to the car. Before Grapes could warn him to watch his head he simply crouched down and crab-walked into the car with such fluid motion she wasn’t even certain how he got in. With the door shut and seatbelts in place he turned and smiled to her.
“Sorry to make you wait. I Had to make certain I had all the right paperwork ready for the front office.”
“...Uh... Makes sense. Okay, everybody strapped in?” Grapes asked, as she started the car. “Cause here we go.” Grapes maneuvered the car out of her driveway, and onto the street. Thankfully it was a bit before rush hour, so they were able to make good time getting to Canterlot High. Grapes prefered to get to the school early, anyway, so she would have time to get her schedule, put up her things, and generally get set and settled for the day ahead. They reached the school, Grapes parking the car in the faculty parking. She got out, and let Earshot out of the back seat. “If you can’t remember where I parked, just meet me by the statue, over there,” Grapes explained, pointing to the Wondercolt statue in front of the school. “I’ll try to get out early enough that we can go to my credit union, and get your banking taken care of.”
“Okay, Miss Grapes. I should be able to find it. Easy enough.” 
“Right, you ready for your first day at Canterlot High, little buddy?” Stormfront said, unfolding himself from the car with a surprising ease. “Aw heck, I know you are.”
“I’m still amazed you fit in there,” Grapes said looking at Stormfront in amazement.
“Oh, this?” the gray-haired teen said with a chuckle. “I’m a lot more flexible than most people realise.”
“A LOT more flexible,” agreed Firestormer who was now standing right next to Sour Grapes. “The big guy here is a professionally trained ballet dancer.”
Stormfront could only facepalm at the unwanted intrusion.
“Good for him. Is there a reason you followed us?” Grapes asked.
“I was bored. Storytime at the children’s hospital isn’t until two, my volunteer time at the fire department isn't until four and I got all my reading for the next college class done. So… I figured I’d come along and supply humourous commentary in my sexy dulcet tones.”
“So you can give Stormy a ride to his class before twelve,” Grapes said, as she got her stuff out of the back of her car.
“Not a problem, Grapes. Not the first time I had to share my bike with another guy. Not my favorite sort of passenger mind you, but I’m willing to set machismo aside for a buddy.”
“Good. Now if you two would follow me, I’ll show you the way to the administrative office,” Grapes said, as she walked to the front door.
The school was pretty quiet, some students were there early but they seemed the exception to the rule. She noticed the one with the ridiculous cowboy hat walk past with her arms full of cider cases. Jack… something jack. Applejack. That was it. Her granny worked down in the cafeteria and, rumor has it, made a mean casserole. Noting she seemed to be carrying the drinks to the cafeteria, Grapes shrugged it off and entered the head office… and found Desi Cordngton sitting at the secretary’s desk in a tasteful brown suit, a set of headphones/microphone hooked into the phone system… and still wearing that curious yellow rubber glove. He glanced up at them and made a motion to be given a moment.
“Yes, yes. I’m sure you would like to offer your services, Mister Blueblood, but at this time we simply don’t have a place in the curriculum for a course on table manners in a high-class setting, BUT perhaps we may be able to have you speak on the topic in a one-class lecture. Yes, I am aware it may take more time than that but perhaps if you mention it to be a primer to prepare them for greater things…? Wonderful. Work out your lecture and we’ll find you some time to speak to an auditorium’s worth of youths. Thank you.”
He pressed the “hang up” button and sighed. 
“I think in some way he means well but his head is entirely in the wrong place. So… Miss Grapes. How may I help you today?”
“Just making sure these two don’t get lost. Don’t mind the flashy guy. He’s just the big fellow’s ride to his noon class,” Grapes said with a smirk. “I figured I’d do my civic duty, and show them to the administrative office so they can get their paperwork taken care of, before I head to my office.”
“Hmm. Goggles, cane… You must be Earshot, the new ‘Special Needs’ kid. Welcome aboard. You seem mostly good to go, let me take a look through your paperwork and I’m sure I can get you squared away.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Call me Mister Cordington. Hey… You’re our new dance teacher, aren’t you?” Desi pointing at Stormy. “Mister Stormfront, top of his class at the Maneland School of the Arts. Forty-four kinds of dance with ballet as your major. Glad you decided to spread the talent around a little.”
“You are.. remarkably well informed Mister Cordington,” Stormy admitted, adjusting his tie. “How did you remember all of that?”
“Right now our teaching talent is running a little thin so… don’t be too impressed. Still, your classes will be on Tuesday and Thursday and we are grateful for any and all help we can get around here.” The eccentric man took Earshot’s paperwork and began sorting through them. “So, Sour Grapes, how did yesterday treat you? Was it everything you thought it would be?”
“Well, considering I went into the job with grounded expectations, and the knowledge that I would not be setting the teaching world on fire, and inspiring the youth of the nation with just the sound of my voice, it was,” Grapes said with a smile. “Just wish there was some way to jam cell signals… I caught a lot of my class clandestinely texting or browsing MugTome.”
“You and every other teacher who has a class entering their digital prime.” he laughed before turning to the computer and typing away until a schedule came out of the printer. “All right, Earshot, you are now more processed than bologna. Here’s your schedule, conveniently in both print and braille. Your classes begin tomorrow, but I can get one of the students to take you around… I think Miss Fluttershy is around. She’ll no doubt be more than happy to take you to each door in turn.”
“Thank you very much, Mister Cordington.”
“At least it’s not Rainbow Dash…” Grapes observed. “Miss Dash is a bit… flighty. Miss Applejack would be fairly dependable, if she’s related to the Apple family I know. What’s on my agenda, do you know, Desi? I know I have the two world history courses. What does the rest of my day look like, because I’ve got an appointment, this afternoon, to help Earshot, here, with some banking.”
“You’re doing pretty good. Can you cover for Donkey’s 1 PM class? He has a dental that can’t be put off… Broke a tooth on a popcorn kernel that turned out to be gravel.”
“I think I can. I’ll check over his notes, and lesson plan on my free period,” Grapes said, nodding, and heading toward her office. “If I don’t have you in a class, Earshot, I’ll see after school. You have a good day, Stormy. I do hope you stay out of trouble, Firestormer.”
"I'm not a troublemaker," Firestormer said. "I'm a Trouble CRAFTER. Big difference. Really. There is."
"I don't care if you're a trouble manufacturer, don't cause a ruckus, while you're here, or it'll probably end up with you out on your keister,” Grapes warned. “I’m just an intern here, so I need to keep squeaky clean, unless I manage to do something spectacular.”
“All right. Your school, your rule,” Firestormer said.
“Don’t exactly own it, but thanks for the consideration all the same,” Grapes said as she headed off. “Whee, substitute teaching, the second day. What fun…”

Most of the day went pretty much like the first, Grapes having her two history classes, a period in the library, she taking time to look over Donkey’s lesson plan on her free period. Then she had her first foray into teaching math.
Needless to say it was not unlike pulling teeth… Probably because Snips and Snails were part of the 1 PM math class. Still, once that was (blissfully) over with Grapes was free for the rest of the day. However she still had to wait for Earshot to get out of his classes, so she checked into ways to keep busy until then.
She went from room to room, just checking up on the other teachers. Celestia was finding them from somewhere, thank goodness. Just not as fast as the current batch were hoping for. She turned a corner and bumped into a rather homely fellow with some of the most crooked teeth she had ever seen. He was dressed in a Gray polo shirt and slacks and had a pleasant expression on his face as he reached out to help her to her feet again.
“Sorry about that. Let me help you up.”
“Ugh. Thanks. Sorry, I should have been watching where I was going,” Grapes said with a sigh, taking his hand and getting up. “You’re a new face.”	
“Nope, same one I’ve always had.” he smiled. “Name’s Dr. Mule, I’m the new councillor at Canterlot High. I am a fully lettered psychologist and psychiatrist so hopefully that will help me with the usual mental stresses of high school.”
“You have my deepest condolences,” Grapes said deadpan. “I just hope you can deal with self-centered tech users. I’m Sour Grapes, teaching intern.”
He shook her hand and nodded. “If you ever need someone to listen, I don’t make a division between the mental health of students and staff.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, but I’ve never been much for the idea of bearing my soul to a psychiatrist. Last thing I need is to be sent to the nut house by a shrink… uh… sorry. No offence,” Grapes said with a half smile.
“None taken.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that,” Grapes said, checking her watch. “I’d better get going. I’ve got an appointment to keep. Nice meeting you Dr. Mule.”
“Nice to meet you too.”
Grapes went to the front of the school building to stand by the Wondercolt statue, waiting on Earshot to show up.
She heard him coming before she saw him. The tap-tap-tap sound of his cane on the steps gave her ample warning. He seemed to be none the worse for wear for a first day, he smiled and waved.
“Miss Grapes! I thought I smelled your col-og-nee out here.”
“I don’t wear cologne. Or perfume for that matter… What am I smelling like, if I might ask?” Grapes asked sounding worried.
“Like Vanilla. I thought it was something you bought at a perfume store. It’s nice even if it makes me think of fresh baked goods.” 
“Vanilla? Oh… That’s my coffee… And I spilt some, this morning,” Grapes explained. “All right, let’s head to the bank and get you squared away. This should make your life, here, a bit easier.”
“Okie dokie.” He agreed, walking along side of her.
“How was your first day?” Grapes asked.
“It was great. Miss Cheerlee is my home room teacher and I’ve been meeting all these nice kids... oh, and a few jerks. By the way, the bathroom in hallway two needs some cleanup.”
“I’m sure Mr. Cordington will find it, Earshot,” Grapes said as they got into her car. “If he doesn’t I’ll tell him in the morning.”
“That’s good. Some kids aren’t very nice, and when the lights are off they can’t even tell friends from the guys they wanna beat up for lunch money,” he said with a little smirk.
“Not everybody has good night vision,” Grapes observed, as she navigated traffic on the way to her credit union. “Though it sounds like those bullies got what they deserved. And you’ve got plausible deniability. Smart move, there, kiddo.”
“Thanks Miss Grapes.” He put his hand out of the window a little and smiled. “Is it always sunny here? I can get used to that.”
“We do have the occasional rain or snow, depending upon season, but we generally have pretty good weather, here. I’d almost swear it’s plot convenient,” Grapes joked with a chuckle as they drove along the roads of Canter City to the financial district. “Have many people trying to hover over you to ‘help’ you because of your disability?”
“Not too many. They’ll open a door for me or something but they seem more confused. Like they’re not sure how I can read words on a blackboard but still need a cane. Guess no one explained that there are all kinds of flavors of ‘blind’ in the world.”
“I guess not. I figure you’re what is known as ‘legally blind’. Meaning you have some difficulty seeing, but you can see to a degree. Just folks tend to think ‘handicapped’ equals ‘helpless’, but I’m not like that. I’m sure if you need help you’ll ask for it,” Grapes observed, as they turned into the credit union’s parking lot. “I did remember what you said about you liking to have ‘autonomy’, after all.”
“It’s a fun word to say. Ooh, is this it?”
“Yes it is. Let’s get your coins sold, and you set up with a bank account,” Grapes said with a nod.
Exactly one hour and seven minutes later…
“Wow… I’m not entirely sure but I think I heard his eyes pop out of his head when he confirmed that my coins were solid silver,” Earshot said, sounding a bit awed.
“He was rather surprised. No wonder he fell all over himself to get you set up with a bank account right after,” Grapes chuckled. “Next time you get your allowance, we’ll repeat the procedure. Question: Can you see close-up?”
“Oh yeah. It’s just when I wear these,” Earshot said as he tapped his goggles for emphasis. “They cloud my eyesight a little. But I need to wear them in daylight or it hurts like someone rubbing salt in them.”
“So you’re both legally blind, and have photosensitive eyes,” Grapes observed. “Good to know.”
“On the plus side I have dark-vision so good nighttime is like daytime to me. A doctor said I have half as many cones and twice as many rods in my eyes… I… probably should one day look that up in a library so I know what it exactly means.”
“It means you have more photoreceptor cells suited for low light vision, than those suited to bright light vision,” Grapes explained. “The rods are the low light cells, and the cones are the bright light cells.”
“So my eyes like light too much to say no to it? No wonder it hurts… I guess that’s why my town is considered the Midnight Party capital of Europe. ALL of my townspeople have the same kind of eyes.”
“It explains why you can see like it’s daylight at night time, too,” Grapes said with a smirk. “Wait… Why is it called the ‘Midnight Party Capitol’?”
"Because our 'day' begins at sundown and after a while a lot of people from all over started finding out that it was a great excuse of a place to go and... what was that phrase? 'Party Hardy' until dawn.” he paused and chuckled softly. “We're also one of the quietest villages in the daytime. Mostly because of everyone sleeping and people with a bad case of cask-illness. We have some daytime people to cover the basics.” 
“It’s called a ‘hangover’, Earshot,” Grapes said with a smirk.
“Hangover? What a weird name.”
“Yeah. Usually because they end up hanging over the toilet puking their guts out because of the overindulgence in alcohol,” Grapes said sniggering.
“That actually makes sense. So where to next? A big pink thing told me there was a bakery around here somewhere.”
“‘A big pink thing’?” Grapes asked, as she drove them toward her house. “Actually we’re headed home. You’re going to be doing homework. Assigned by me.”
“Okay. I just thought now that you helped me get local money I can buy everyone something like a tray of sweet buns. ...The Pink Thing… which I’m pretty sure was a really peppy girl, was very happy to suggest it. She called it ‘product awareness’?”
“Ugh… Pinkie Pie…” Grapes groaned. “First and foremost, unless you got some bucks from your deposit, your money won’t be available until tomorrow. Second, we need to activate your debit card, and I won’t do that over my cell phone. Third, you’ve got to learn the right way to balance a checkbook, so you can keep track of your transactions and make sure you don’t overspend. That is what I intend to teach you when we get home. It may seem like you’ve got a lot of money, but it can disappear in a snap if you’re not careful.”
“I know. My father always says, It’s hard being wise, and so much easier to be generous.” 	
“The idea is to balance both impulses,” Grapes said nodding. “You want nice things, you want to get your friends nice things, but you only get so much to spend. Best to keep it for what you need, rather than blowing it on what you want.”
“Okay… can I get some sweet buns later, then?” Earshot asked.
“Yes, Earshot, you can get sweet buns, later,” Grapes replied, as they pulled into the driveway. “This is going to be an interesting year, isn’t it?”
“Here’s hoping.” Earshot said with a grin, as they went inside.
> A Formal Fall and Other Sundry Happenings
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

One fine Tuesday afternoon, Grapes came out onto her back porch after school had let out, looking for her fellow teacher. She had an idea about coordinating some of the things he was teaching to his literature class with her own. It surprised her how surprisingly literate he was for a rough-and-tumble type. He could accurately quote Shakespeare, Nietzsche and Tolstoy... and even spell their names correctly.

“Has anyone seen Squall?”

“Oh he’s out back, spending some time alone while polishing his Dinghy.” Sirocco answered.

Grapes took a moment to process this information before replying.

“All bad innuendo aside, why does he have a boat in my backyard?” Grapes asked. “And how did he get it here? He still has trouble driving stick.”

“One of his belly-button buddies dropped it off,” explained Sirocco, looking out the back window where the old sailor was working on the finish of the aforementioned vessel. “Something to do with a last request.”

“‘Belly button buddies’?” Grapes said, looking slightly perturbed.

"I think she means a 'naval' associate,” Queenie explained. Grapes facepalmed.

“Sirocco has trouble with homophones, doesn’t she?” Grapes asked.

“Homophones, idioms, sometimes acronyms. She’s picking it up slowly but really… English is pretty hard to learn,” Queenie agreed, defending her friend’s idiosyncrasy. “It doesn’t just borrow from other languages. It follows them down dark alleys, beats them up and then roots through their pockets for loose grammar.”

“And you just paraphrased James D. Nicoll,” Grapes observed with a smirk.

“Really? Well, I just learned something.” Queenie chuckled, joining Sirocco in watching Squall. “He’s really something isn’t he? A man of many talents, and you’d be surprised of the muscle he has. For a man his age he’s quite… ur… I believe the word ‘ripped’ is the correct one?”

“That would be the current vernacular for his impressive physique, yes,” Grapes observed. “Another term would be ‘cut’, which refers to him cutting a fine figure.”

“Then yes. Yes that describes him. Granted I suspect his birthday suit requires some ironing but in the end there’s a lot more muscle under that gregarious personage that one may think. I pity the student that tries to push him too far.”

“Funnily enough, the student that tries to push me too far ends up with extra assignments… And she likes them,” Grapes observed with a chuckle. “Time flies doesn’t it? Can’t believe we’re already halfway through October… And there’s this big dance coming up at the school. The little darlings will be positively distracted all week. Never mind this whole princess thing...”

“Tell me about it. The last time I wore a crown was....” Queenie trailed off and giggled. “Well… that was mainly for a photoshoot.”

“Princess of the Fall Formal,” Grapes sighed. “Sunset’s becoming more insufferable, because she’s won it before.”

“I know of the formal. My father’s company is supplying some of the buffet for it, the Apples the rest. Say what you will about Canterlot High but they do buy local when they can. Still… this Sunset girl. Is she as intense as you say?”

“Oh yeah. She’s a gifted student, and will let you know it, right off the bat… Problem is, she really is gifted. Just need to deflate the ego,” Grapes observed with a sigh.

“Even Mozart had his limits. Maybe you just have to find hers.” Queenie offered. “I wish I could help but I’m not much of an educator. My forte is more the application of the practical.”

“I am trying to be practical, yet engaging. Making use of techniques they use in video games to engage young minds. I’m having to do it slowly, though, and minimally, because I’m an intern and won’t have tenure,” Grapes observed.

“Oop. Here he comes.” Queenie said as Squall came up the back stairs and into the building.

He wiped the sweat from his brow, straightened his shirt and pulled a flask from his back pocket before noticing his audience.

“Oh. Hello, ladies. I trust I’m not interrupting ye right now,” Squall said his eyes going to each woman on the porch in turn.

“It wasn’t anything important,” Grapes observed, as she leaned against the porch post. “Though I am considering adding docking fee to your rent. Not much, but just to help pay for the extra wear and tear on my yard from the trailer your boat is sitting on.”

“Oh, sorry about that, lass. An old navy buddy passed on and left me some of his property to distribute as I see fit. I was cleaning up the old girl and thinking of maybe putting her in the local park as a bit of play equipment for the young ‘uns.”

“That is actually rather magnanimous of you, Squall.” Queenie said as she let herself imagine it. “You are planning on making it landlocked of course so they don’t take it out to sea?.”

“Oh aye, Queenie. Some good concrete forms around her hull will keep her in place and a gangplank leading on board. I may even have a rope net on the other side they can climb on board with, as well as pretend to be fishing with.”

“Be sure you get permission from the city to add your boat to the park. Otherwise they may just demolish your generous contribution,” Grapes said with a sigh.

“Ah bureaucracy.” Squall muttered as he took a swig from his flask. “Pirates without the enthusiasm. They will meet their match in me, for I have seen the military in all it’s forms…. Get it? Forms… as in having to fill out forms?”

“Ha,” Grapes uttered, dryly.

“So how did yer day go at the school? Mine was fairly uneventful. I got the class into reading Hamlet. It’s not easy to sell them on the writings of ‘some funny-talking  guy in tights who lived a THOU-sand years ago’,” He said, enunciating the description like an eight year old relaying a personal opinion of Shakespeare.

“Got them doing the ‘link game’ as homework,” Grapes said. “Kind of like that ‘Six degrees of Handsome Hamhock’ game that folks do for fun. They’ve got to find the links between two different points in history with the fewest links, and show their work. Kind of helped I had them watch that old ‘Connections’ show to get and idea of how that worked.”

“Aye. that should be fun. Like how Your Cell Phone is just a few steps from a Hollywood starlet from the 40’s,” He paused a moment and put his hat over his heart. “Bless you Hedy Lamarr, and yer Spread Spectrum Technology breakthroughs.”

“Hm… Sounds like I should have included those in my plot your path game,” Grapes mused. “Anyway, was wondering if you were wanting to coordinate some of your literature classes with my history classes. They seem to have you earlier than me, and it may shock some of the hooligans that the people Shakespeare was writing about actually existed.”

“Oh certainly. There are quite a few historical touchstones there. The war, the kinds of schools available, the fact that college buddies never seem to change,” Squall chortled. “I should actually encourage them to act it out a little too. I wonder who would want to play Ophelia?”

“Diamond Tiara,” Grapes said without hesitation.

“Oh! That could be entertaining. It might be a hammy performance but it would at least be high-priced ham.”

“Surprised her doting papa didn’t send her to a high-priced school. Unless he thought it would do her some good to mingle with the peasantry,” Grapes quipped. “Probably have to start it next week, though. Fall Formal falls on Friday, facilitating flexibility in fundamental functionality.”

“Oh yes.. The dance is coming up. I fergot about that. I may have the students write an essay on it from their point of view as an assignment. I can’t make the wallflowers dance or force the anti-social to attend but I can entice them to do so for an extra credit.”

“Kind of went off on the history of dance, myself,” Grapes observed with a chuckle. “I imagine I’ll have a bunch of juvenile snickering about ‘fertility’ dances, especially when I get to the symbolism of the Maypole.”

“What is a Mabel?” Sirocco asked. “And what is so simple-like about it?”

“May. Pole,” Grapes enunciated, making sure she was heard correctly, she then wrote down the word. “And ‘symbol.’ ‘Ism’. Symbolism. Symbolism means the use of symbols to represent ideas or qualities. For example you know about traffic lights, yes?”

“Oh yes. Yes I do. I had to take the diving test for my license. Red means Stop, Green means Go Fast, Yellow means go VERY fast,” Sirocco said cheerfully.

“First of all your instructor should be taken out and shot for giving you the wrong information. Second, it’s ‘driving test’. Third you got red correct. However yellow means slow down, and green means go,” Grapes explained. “Anyway, the colored lights are examples of symbols. Unfortunately symbol has a homophone that’s a percussion instrument. Spelled cee, why, em, bee, aye, ell. That cymbal is a plate shaped object either put on a stand with a drum kit, or used in pairs to produce a kind of crashing sound.”

“Ah. That is good to know. So a Sect Cymbal is NOT some manner of religious instrument?”

“Sometimes, I swear…” Queenie said giggling. “I SWEAR that she does it on purpose.”

“Wrong word and homophone, Sirocco. The phrase is ‘sex symbol’. Ess, ee, ex. Ess, why, em, bee, oh, ell,” Grapes explained. “You have to pay as much attention to the context in which words are used, along with the words themselves. A ‘sex symbol’ is a person, usually an actor or actress, who happens to be in the opinion of the given observer particularly attractive, and makes them think of… Well I’m sure you get the idea… I hope.”

“I do now… I believe. A Cymbal is an instrument of sound, a Symbol is something that which represents another thing, A Sect is a religious group while Sex involves physical attraction.” Sirocco paused a moment before furrowing her brow. “So was Firestormer having fun with me when he suggested I should show great caution in religious beliefs by seeking out Safe Sects?”

Grapes facepalmed. “It’s possible he was cautioning you in making sure your social life doesn’t result in unexpected surprises. He was talking about sex, the pleasurable application of interpersonal friction for mutual gratification. Not sects, offshoots of established religious institutions. And if it was Firestormer who instructed you about traffic signals, I’ll take him out and shoot him myself. With the garden hose on a really cold day, aiming for his block and tackle, so to speak. That is yet another fun linguistic bit of shenaniganry called an ‘euphemism’. They’re kind of like puns but you’re using tame words to say naughty things.”

“Ah. I see. I shall attempt to keep these things in mind,” Sirocco said thoughtfully.

“Note to self, get you a book of common idioms and phrases,” Grapes said with a sigh. “Wonder what tomorrow’s going to bring… Hopefully nothing too out-of-the-ordinary.”

The next morning Grapes went to school, and went about her routine as usual. Teaching her first history class of the day. After that first class, Grapes walked through the entry hall, seeing a girl she had never seen before staggering around as if she was unused to being on two legs. This new girl had long purple hair with a darker purple stripe and a magenta streak right beside it. She wore a light blue blouse with puffed shoulders and a magenta bow at the neck with a dark purple skirt with a magenta star pattern on it. Her legs were covered with either really thick socks or leg warmers with an argyle pattern of lilac and white on a dark purple background with magenta cuffs, and a pair of black shoes.

“If this was college, I’d assume she’s either drunk or seriously hungover,” Grapes mused internally. “Wonder if she’s a special needs kid?”

Several Neurological disorders, or maybe an inner-ear issue could explain the curious gait of this new girl. It was hard to tell, but if she was ‘special needs’ no doubt she would hear about her soon enough. Teachers gossiped like washerwomen on laundry day and they had a central private watering hole to do it in away from prying ears.

Again the same kids gave her difficulties with their ‘quirks’. Sunset by being so brilliant she practically blinded herself, Snips and Snails by being so… oblivious and then there was Trixie who was bright but unfocused. Grapes caught her doodling in her notebook yet again, and sighed. Trixie’s ongoing saga of “The adventures of the Great and powerful Trixie” was sadly not going to top any best-sellers lists unless she heeded more of Squall’s literature lessons. Though there was one interesting occurrence after the post lunch History class.

Sunset was seething, and Applejack looked positively jubilant.

“Well well. You look positively perturbed, Sunset Shimmer. A bee crawl into your bonnet, and upset your perfect world order?” Grapes asked a sardonic eyebrow raised.

“Jus’ Miss Shimmer gettin’ a bit of an upset to her applecart,” Applejack said smugly. “Looks like we’re gonna have an actual contest this here Fall Formal. Tha new girl signed up fer tha Fall Formal Princess ballot.”

“New girl?” Grapes asked. “The only new girl I saw, today, was the one with the purple hair who looked like she was having trouble with balancing on two legs.”

“Really? She seemed ta be walkin’ fine earlier…” Applejack observed.

“Huh. Must have been an inner ear thing, then,” Grapes mused.

“Those two had better get the dirt I wanted on that Twilight Sparkle,” Sunset muttered, glaring out the door, arms crossed. She had obviously thought she had said it quietly enough to evade notice, however…

“Why thank you, Sunset Shimmer, for guiding my decision on our next history lesson,” Grapes said with a smirk. “Since there seems to be some political shinanagainary going on, on your end, we’ll be discussing political shinangainary in  history. Dirty campaigns, mudslinging, backstabbing, both literal and figurative. I’ll be looking forward to it, and I hope you will be too.” The look on Sunset Shimmer’s face was priceless. “Thankfully, we were already studying Rome. An study in just why a political system can’t hold once violence has been introduced will the the final thing to show Rome’s fall… And hopefully a lesson for our resident genius.”

The rest of the day went relatively smoothly, Grapes making use of her free time to set up her politically oriented lessons for the next few days, so her students in her afternoon class can learn that running a dirty campaign will eventually end in disaster. Grapes did wonder why the new girl didn’t end up in her history class, though. It was a mystery, but it wasn’t one she dwelled upon, when she went to her car to wait for Earshot. She couldn’t remember if Stormfront was teaching today or not but she wasn’t going to let Earshot have to depend upon the bus system.
He was fairly self-sufficient most of the time but it really was asking a lot for a ‘legally blind’ kid to take solo trips on the bus on a regular basis until he had time to fully acclimatise to the system. That would require Stormy, or Squall or herself to more or less ‘walk’ him through it. The last thing Earshot needed was to hop the wrong bus and wind up on the wrong side of  the tracks. So-to-speak.

Stepping out of the front door of the school Grapes noticed Desi over by the statue on the front walk. He was busy polishing the strangely reflective panels surrounding the base… at least it LOOKED like he was. His actions seemed a little, well, ‘off. Like he was merely aping the actions of polishing. ‘Going through the motions’ one might say. The geiger counter sitting next to him did not inspire any good feelings inside of Sour Grapes either. She shook her head and sighed. A long day at the school had made her even more tired than she first thought. She bid Desi a good evening and finding her car, she waited for Earshot. May as well give him a ride home, since they were going to the same place.

It was about ten minutes later that Earshot showed up. She soft ‘tick tick tick’ of his cane heralding his approach. Collapsing the white cane into a pocket-sized bundle he got in and smiled.

“Thank you for waiting miss Grapes. I got to talking to some of the other kids and nearly lost track of the time.”
“No problem. It seemed silly to not give you a ride home, since we’re going to the same place,” Grapes said getting in, herself. “Looking forward to the Fall Formal on Friday?”
“Yes Ma’am,” he replied. “Things are getting weird though. Quick Buck has a betting pool going on to see who gets the crown.”

“Let me guess, Sunset Shimmer’s in the lead, right?” Grapes asked with a smirk.

“Of course. She’s the uh… ‘sure thing’. But there’s someone new on the list. I think they said she’s called ‘Skylight Spackle’.”

“That’s an interesting name.”

“Well, I’m not POSITIVE that I heard it right. But it’s something along that line.”

“Maybe ‘Twilight Sparkle’?” Grapes asked as they made their way through traffic. “I happen to have Miss Shimmer in my afternoon history class, and I heard her mention something about ‘Getting dirt on Twilight Sparkle’... And that prompted me to change the subject from history of dance to the history of dirty politics, starting with the brothers Gracchi.”

They soon pulled into the boarding house’s driveway, and Grapes parked in the garage, taking out her work so she could grade papers, and work some more on her new lesson plan. She walked with Earshot into the house. She went to her desk, setting her work on it, and went to the kitchen to fix herself a bite to eat, and something to drink. She then went to her desk, pulling out various reference books and set to work on her next couple days worth of lessons.

It was surprisingly quiet this night. She recalled that Squall had to go to the local legion to meet with some friends of his, Queenie had some manner of family business to attend to and Sirocco had gone with her. Firestormer was doing some light busking in the park just for the heck of it and Stormy… he said he was going out but she had no idea where or for how long. Other than Earshot she was alone in the house.

Come to think of it, where was he? She got up and started moving through the house, he wasn’t in his ‘nook’… or rather small room in the servant’s corridor. He wasn’t in the kitchen or anyone else’s room for that matter. She wandered into the music room and flicked on the lights and was immediately greeted by a cry of pain and some words that while she was unaware what they actually meant, in a contextual way they sounded very unwholesome.

“PLEASE! Lights!” Earshot cried, covering his eyes. “Turn off the lights!”

“Oh! Sorry, Earshot,” Grapes said clicking off the lights. “Also language, young man. I may not know your native tongue, but I recognise cursing when I hear it.”

“Fair enough.” he consented cautiously pulling his hands away. “Oh that stings. I wasn’t ready for that. Did you need me for something?”

Grapes looked over and saw that Earshot was making productive use of the long rectangular top of the harpsichord. His homework was laid out upon it along with several items that included an inkwell, a small oil lamp and.. Was that an abacus? Just how ‘rural’ was Earshot’s region anyways?”

“Just was checking up on you. With everybody out it’s kind of quiet in here,” Grapes said with a sigh. “And sorry about the lights…

“That’s okay. I’m usually pretty good with it if I wear my goggles but it’s just easier to read regular print without them.”

“I thought your textbooks were in braille?”

“The school couldn’t find braille for all of them, and some of them have pictures.” He paused a moment and chuckled. “Huh. So that’s what my heart would look like. I did not know that.”

He dipped his stylus into the inkwell and made some surprisingly precise-looking notes in his notebook.

“The oil lamp gives me a nice soft light to work with so I can read the textbooks without having to see the world through spinach-colored glasses. It must be so much easier to be like you daylighters… I mean normal people. I can see perfectly by moonlight but when the sun rises everything becomes this odd… alien world to me. Crowded… Busy… Loud… Everything's the same but so different when the sun rises.”

“I imagine… But you have your eyes the way they are, and I don’t know if anything can be done, except with more technology,” Grapes observed. “But you seem to work well enough without a lot of modern conveniences. Anyway let me know if you need anything. I’ll be at my desk working on my lesson plan and grading papers.”

“All right. Thank you Miss Grapes.” he said, setting his science book aside and opening his math book. She watched him for a minute while he read the questions, but his fingers moved over the abacus without him even having to look at it. Wooden beads clicked softly in the shadows while answers were inscribed on paper with the other hand. It was an interesting interlude, seeing this moment of anachronistic diligence. Most kids his age would have been using their smartphones, Grapes couldn’t help but wonder if they might think he was somehow cheating by using a real-world device to do his math. Grapes chuckled at the thought, and went back to her desk to work. The grading papers didn’t take long, but her topic for the next couple of days, if her Friday class didn’t get taken over by dance prep, took some research, and preparation.

One by one the so-called ‘Storm Riders’ returned to the house. First Queenie and Sirocco who were discussing figures and trends in the frozen foods industry for some reason. Then Firestormer, who looked slightly tipsy but still in controls of his faculties. He pinned a note to the cork-board in the front hallway reminding himself where he had parked his motorcycle before hailing a taxi. Squall was next, he actually looked even more rumpled and carried a strong, if not overpowering smell of whiskey upon him. He silently tipped his hat to her and went straight to bed.
Stormy was the last to arrive, he smelled of perspiration and dropped the large duffle bag he carried with him at the front door before heading to the kitchen and getting a drink of water. Grapes caught up with him in there as he drained a glass that to her was more of a pitcher.

“Tomorrow’s Thursday. Want a ride to Canterlot High for your dance classes there?” Grapes asked.

“Sure thing.” He said, smiling at her. “Frees up a little extra time in my schedule  that I can put to good use. I can’t tell you how many guys have been asking me advice for ‘how to dance with a girl’ lately.”

“Seriously?” Grapes asked with a laugh. “That’s got to be… interesting to say the least.”

“Yeah. I usually start the lesson with “Step one… go up to the girl and ASK her.” He chuckled and shook his head. “I’d rather not waste some perfectly good dance tips on a a bunch of wallflowers… except Wallflower herself. Nice kid, good head on her shoulders.”

“I don’t think I have her in any of my classes,” Grapes mused thoughtfully.

“She’s heavy in the Sciences programs this semester, mainly botney. Maybe next semester she’ll wander into your tender care.” Stormfront refilled the glass from the tap and smirked. “Best advice I could give those kids is to just be themselves. At the end of the day, no one can take THAT from them.”
“That’s true,” Grapes said nodding. “Well, if you need any help, and I have a free period, let me know, okay? I’ve just about finished my lesson plan about dirty campaigning.”

“Dirty campaigning? Does this have anything to do with the current crown race?”

“Why yes. I overheard Sunset Shimmer mention getting dirt on her competition, so I figure why not teach the downsides of running a dirty campaign?” Grapes asked.  “The very first lesson happens to be about how mob rule and demagoguery brought down the Roman Empire. Well the endless wars, importation of foreign labor and overextension of said empire had roles, too, but the introduction of violence into the political process did play a large part. Anyway we’ll be leaving before school starts, so we’d both better get some sleep.”

“Oh definitely.” he said draining the glass in long slow draughts. “Those girls really wore me out tonight.”

“What girls?” Grapes inquired curiously.

“Oh, the girls that come to my lessons at the North End Community Centre. The type who can’t afford proper ballet lessons uptown so I take some old pointe shoes there and try to let them fulfill some dreams. At least until they decide whether or not they want to dedicate themselves to it or not.”

Stormy opened his bag and showed Grapes how it was full to the brim with all sizes of those ballet shoes with the bullet-hard toes. Part of her wondered how he would explain to a cop that looked in there that he wasn’t some kind of fetishist… and another part of her wanted to try on a pair.

“Oh. You’re teaching ballet at a community center?” Grapes asked. “That’s rather generous of you.”

“A little. I just… know what it’s like to have a dream. In my case it was being able to walk without causing a swathe of devastation from my being so klutzy. If my cure helps to brighten someone else’s day then so be it,” Stormfront replied with a smile.

“Nice to know what you do some nights. See you in the morning for the commute, Stormfront,” Grapes said, heading to her part of the house.

“G’night Grapes. See you in the morning.”

That night Grapes had dreams of sitting in an audience and watching Stormfront performing some ballet thing up on stage… wearing a pink Tutu. Grapes woke up the next morning grumbling about weird dreams, as she got dressed, and went down to breakfast.

Sirocco was already up and had the coffee machine chugging away with her own special blend. Grapes loved it but suspected the intensity of the caffeine was enough to eat a hole in her tablecloth… or stain it brown for the rest of eternity. The aroma of this thick liquid mana alone was enough to pry your eyes open. The two exchanged pleasantries as they set about making the rest of breakfast. Pancakes from powder mix was the order of the day, and for topping Squall had a bottle of something he got from a Canadian friend of his… surprisingly enough it wasn’t maple syrup. It was Saskatoon Syrup, and to be honest it was pretty good.

Firestormer on the other hand brought Jalapeno Jelly to the table. It astonished Grapes that anyone could have such a fireproof digestive tract… and she pitied Queenie when she mistook it for strawberry jelly and put a heaping quality on her toasted bagel. After sucking on an ice cube long enough to get her tongue working again she tore a few strips off of Firestormer… or tried to. He was too busy laughing to really get the full verbal lambasting. Grapes checked her watch.

“Okay, folks, whoever’s going with me had better get ready to head out,” Grapes said getting up and going to gather her work. “I’ve still got some finishing touches to put on my next few lessons, and I’m sure Stormy has to set up for his classes today.”

Stormfront and Earshot were both packed and ready to go. Squall of course having his own car would head out on his own time, after dealing with the dishes. The rest were on their way to the university.

All three went to the car, got in, and headed toward Canterlot High for another day of educational hijinx. Grapes didn’t know what to expect today to bring, except it being a day closer to the Fall Formal. The teacher expected her students to be more distracted than ever, and who knows what will be happening on Friday. Grapes fully expected classes to be canceled, or truncated for the sake of the dance. In the meantime she would teach her classes as best she can, today.

Grapes’ morning history class went well enough, only a few snickers about ‘fertility dances’ from the dumbed down duo. Then Grapes took the time to lend a hand to Cheerilee in the library. Apparently the new girl had been doing a lot of research and forgot to put up the majority of the books she had used. Much of the subject matter made Grapes raise an eyebrow. A lot of recent history, books about sports, agriculture and other interests. It was as if somebody from another country but with the ability to read the language, here, was trying to find talking points to discuss with their fellow students. Then there were the ones about washroom etiquette, the use of cutlery, how to improve handwriting, and the education system as a whole. Interesting subjects, but when taken all together, it made whoever was doing all this research seem like they may not have been a human for very long. At least that was the mental deduction that Grapes had come to, but that seemed like it was very unlikely.

After her stint in the library, Grapes’ free period found her hanging out in the gymnasium watching Stormfront attempt to teach some of the students, including a very bored looking Sunset Shimmer, how to couple dance.

“Look. It’s not as hard as you believe. Just stop overthinking things.” Stormy said pushing pause on the boombox. “First of all if everyone dances, nobody looks stupid. Right?”

The students made some non committal noises causing Stormy to take a deep breath to keep his patience.

“Psh, of course somebody looks stupid,” Sunset said in her usual snarky tone. “It’s usually the idiots who haven’t figured out their right foot from their left. But then, if everybody looks stupid, then I can only look better in comparison.”

“Well somebody’s in a good mood, this afternoon,” Grapes snarked from her position of leaning against the wall by the gym door. “You already learn the wrong lesson before I even start?”

“Gah! You? Don’t you have a class to teach?” Sunset uttered startled.

“Free period, hon. Even teachers get them,” Grapes replied with a smirk.

“Grapes! Pleased to see you!” Stormfront called out and quickly moved over to where she was, apparently grateful for the distraction. “These people are just so… They’re supposed to be learning couples’ dancing and it’s like… You know when you put two magnets together the wrong way and they repel?”

“Well, a good rule of thumb is to lead by example,” Grapes suggested.

“That’s a good plan, but where am I gonna get a partner on such short notice?” Stormfront asked, looking a bit harried.

“Oh, I’ve been known to cut a rug or two from time to time,” Grapes said walking over to where Stormfront was holding the class. “Nothing professional, but plenty of natural talent.”

“That’s wonderful. Right. Ok. Um… Any musical preferences to get a fire lit under these quasi-pubescent stiffs?”

“Could always pick something spicy,” Grapes said with a chuckle. “Show them that couples’ dances aren’t all waltzes, and foxtrots.”

“Sometimes they’re mating displays,” laughed Snails, he being in Grapes’ morning history course.

“You’re not far off, my dear mollusk,” Grapes said airily, garnering a blank look from the teal haired boy, causing Sunset to facepalm.

Stormfront’s fingers moved nimbly through the collection of CD’s until he found one and popping it from it’s clam-shell inserted it into the Boombox. The sound of a lively acoustic guitar filled the air.  By the time the rest of the instruments and the singers caught up, Grapes had recognized it as one of her favorite Latino numbers…  Bamboléo by the Gypsy Kings. By this time Stormfront was gyrating his shoulders and smiling as he moved nimbly across the floor.

“Remember what I said, kids. Don’t overthink about it. Just let the music tell you what to do.”

In the meantime Grapes had casually started doing a lively dance of her own, joining Stormfront in a very lively Latin style dance. Part rhumba, part passo doble, but too fast for a mambo, still it was a sizzling display that probably shocked the students who knew Grapes from her history classes.

“When in doubt kids…” He said, staring into her purple eyes. “Hand to hip with hand to hand for the Lead, And Hand to shoulder with hand to hand for the one following. And don’t be afraid to get in… close.”

She felt the hand on her hip pull her against him, letting her feel the muscles beneath that T-shirt and jeans. Hard to believe one so big could move so quickly and dexterously. Then again she had a lower center of gravity and knew how to use it, putting her own hand between his shoulder blades she smirked as she returned his gaze right back into those gorgeous sky-blue eyes of his. Maybe they were getting a little carried away in this demonstration but heck, they were having fun.

“Don’t suppose we could show these squirts how getting good at couples’ dancing means you can show off?” Grapes asked with a smirk.

His eyes widened a little in surprise and there was a hint of the most adorable amount of blush on those cheeks of his as he smirked back.

“Why Senorita Grapes… I would be delighted to.” Then they really started showing off. Blazing hot footwork, spins, dips, and coordinated disconnected dancing. The whole act was leading up to a crescendo that if they had more time to choreograph would have been a bigger finish than the simple dip they went for at the end of the song.

Still… it was a wonderful dip. Him holding her there, the two of them lingering in that pose as the last strums of the guitar faded away leaving the two dancers and the dumbstruck student observers there in a moment of silence.

Then the crowd went wild. Even Sunset Shimmer found herself applauding. Stormfront smiled and slowly lifted his partner back into an upright locked position, and the two resisted the urge to pant and catch their breath.

“So… That’s what can happen with practice. Just stop dancing like a bunch of department store mannequins, and you should be fine,” Grapes quipped, smiling up at Stormfront. Grapes then turned to see a pair of principals standing in the doorway of the gym, both with dropped jaws. “I think we may have overdone it,” Grapes observed in sotto voce, looking at Principal Celestia and Vice-Principal Luna.
Luna looked up at her sister and arched an inquisitive eyebrow. Celestia returned the eyebrow to her younger sister before the two looked back at Stormfront and Grapes and politely applauded.

“Teaching by example. Well done, Miss Sour Grapes and Mister Stormfront.” Luna said as she was obviously trying to keep a smirk from forming. “A little… shall we say ‘suggestive’ choice for a style of dance?”

“However we don’t wish to smother such a… a creative way to inspire the children.” Celestia hastily interjected. “If it gets them on the dance floor and… dancing their way to good health then so be it.”

“Of course. Of course.” Luna added. “Exercise should always be fun, and exciting. Why, just look at the two of you. Sweating and out of breath and yet quite… content with your selves.”

“It was fun,” Grapes said with a shrug. “The applause was a nice perk. Wasn’t a bad whim to come over here and see how Stormfront was doing.”

“I see.” Celestia said as she and her sister tilted their heads ever so slightly to look past Sour Grapes and appraise Stormfront where he was putting on some samba music to encourage the students to take up the lesson before the mood was lost. “Nothing wrong with that.”

“I should freshen up before my next class,” Grapes said with a chuckle. “Glad you two enjoyed the show.”

“We almost missed it but the music intrigued us.” Luna chuckled. “Now we can update your file to include teacher’s aide in Dance Instruction.”

“As long as I’m aiding, and not instructing. I have a lot of natural talent, but not enough technical knowhow to actually teach,” Grapes said as she headed to the faculty bathroom. “There goes my free periods on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Oh well. No big loss.”

Grapes’ afternoon history class filed into her room, and she stood at the chalkboard. To a certain flame haired student’s surprise, she did not look like she had just done a sizzling dance number in the gym about a half hour ago.

“As you know, we have been studying Rome. Its century of massive expansion, and endless war. Now, however, we start to see the beginnings of the fall of Rome. The republic was on the edge. Elections were occurring like no Roman had ever seen, demagogues were in the streets preaching the politics of violence, huge numbers of foreign workers were scaring the pants off the native workforce, and the rich just sat back consuming everything while ignoring the poor masses who can only take so much before deciding to turn against them,” Grapes intoned. “Meanwhile the political elite were desperately trying to stop the monster they had unleashed, but the very same elites were so tied to the interests of money, that they couldn’t think of any other solution but more of the same. This is how republics fall, ladies and gentlemen. And this isn’t great man history. Can you call a man who first injected violence into the political system, and overturned years of tradition just to get his way ‘great’? I know one of you would, but the overturning of these traditions was but one of the dominoes in the long slow fall of the Roman Empire.”

“Uh… Alexander the Great?” asked Muffins, who seemed unlikely to know this off the top of her head.

“Uh, Muffins, that was a rhetorical question. Also Alexander the Great was Macedonian, not Roman,” Grapes observed. “I’m talking about Tiberius Gracchus. One of the Brothers Gracchi. Yes, Gracchi is plural because it is Latin. Now… The spoils of war made the republic rich, and brought slaves to the Empire…” Grapes began to teach a chapter of history that wasn’t widely taught. How the wealthy few made one man who had served Rome’s army decide to overturn the status quo for the sake of the people, and ended up being killed for his efforts. And how his younger brother whipped up the people into a fervor, taking up his brother’s causes, and continued to crack the foundations of Rome’s diplomatic system.

“Tomorrow we’ll be moving from Ancient Rome to the good old USA, and maybe we’ll stop off in Jolly Olde England. If we get the chance, this year, we can even cover the South Seas Bubble, and introduce the Walpole connection game,” Grapes said as the class ended. “Well… I say tomorrow, it may be Monday, considering that big dance is tomorrow night.”

The students all got up in unison at the sound of the bell, not out of any choreography but that simultaneous chaos brought about by simple Pavlovian instinct. They nearly ran over Mister Cordington as his slender body moved back and forth to avoid being run down while entering her class.

“Hell-O Miss Grapes. And how is the day treating you… Other than you tripping the light fantastic with Mister Stormfront?”

“I think I surprised everybody with my lesson on the Brothers Gracchi,” Grapes replied, as she packed up her things. “How are things with you?”

“Oh pretty well. Pretty well. I Plunged a mystery of the unknown out of the girls’ washroom, Got the windows clean, laid down weed killer on the soccer green, taught a successful physics class, organised the benches in the cafeteria into a representation of the Fibonacci sequence until Sun-Butt had me put them back into boring old rows once more. You know… the usual.”

“‘Sun-Butt’?” Grapes asked, raising an eyebrow. “I know Principal Celestia wears a sun in glory lapel pin. That’s hardly a reason to call her ‘sun-butt’.”

“True, but she has a tawdry relic of her misspent youth enshrined upon her glutenous maximus,” Cordington said with a grin. “It TOO is in the shape of a Sun in glory.”

“This update was brought to you by WTMI, your source for way too much information,” Grapes quipped, rolling her eyes.

“What can I say? I am a veritable FOUNT of information. Oh… and I was doing some patchwork on the copper roof earlier,” Desi started, rooting through his satchel. “And wound up with some scraps and immediately thought of you.”

“Copper? I can’t imagine what you’d make with copper,” Grapes observed.

With a flourish he pulled something from his bag. It LOOKED like a paper-hat big enough to rest on her own head, the kind that kids used to fold and either wear or float in puddles as a little sailboat. The big difference was that this one was expertly crafted from a sheet of Element 29 and shone like a newly minted penny… mainly because copper tended to do that.

“TA-DAHHHHHH! Say hello to the latest in noggin protection. Stylish and yet functional.”

“Functional?” Grapes asked.

“Well of course! It holds its shape and is far more durable than tin foil. How else do you expect to prevent others to keep from influencing and outright usurping your cognitive self-control?”

Grapes looked over the hat, an eyebrow raised.

“Well. Not the silliest hat I’ve ever possessed,” Grapes observed. “Not sure why I would need a hat that protects against mind control, but I appreciate the gesture.”

“It’s always good to keep something like this on hand. Or just as an ornament for your desk. Makes a good conversation piece.” Desi chirped as he Spritzed something from a bottle onto one of the desks and gave it a polish with a rag. “Ooh. Nice graffiti there. Better make certain it’s preserved for posterity.”

Grapes walked to the desk, curious about this graffiti that Desi had spotted.

It was a caricature of herself. Standing there in a professor’s gown giving a long dissertation. The topic was uncertain because the word balloon attached made abundant and repetitive use of the word “Blah” punctuated by the occasional buzzword such as paradigm, status-quo and Socio-economics. On the other hand it really WAS a good likeness… and pretty good penmanship for the word balloon content.

“Hmm… I wonder who drew this?” Grapes asked, going to check her seating chart. “Whoever it was needs to be in art classes.”

Surprisingly enough it was Crimson Napalm, the student with the lavender skin and Bright orange mohawk. While it was easy to make an assumption that a student who liked wearing T-shirts with skulls on it would be into graffiti, it was strangely gratifying to see some genuine artistic talent desperately struggling to burst forth.

“Huh. That’s unexpected. Who knew such a punk-looking kid had a hidden softer side?” Grapes observed. She rummaged in her messenger bag she carried in lieu of a purse, and brought back her digital camera, taking a photo of the drawing. “If we’ve got an art teacher, still, I’ll be sharing this with them, and seeing about getting Crimson into some art classes so he can have a healthier and less school property defacing outlet for his talent.”

“How forward-thinking of you. Many teachers would have taken offence to such an act of satire and no doubt retaliated academically.”

“Oh he’s still getting detention. Not for the artistic depiction, but for the whole defacing of school property. I’m sure the budget is limited enough without having to… now that you apparently shellacked it, sand and refinish a desk and/or buy a new desk,” Grapes observed. “I can appreciate good satire, along with good snark. But he should have drawn it on a different surface.”

“I can appreciate good chaos when it happens. A touch of anarchy here, a little defiance of authority there, like a swizzle-stick it keeps things from settling to the bottom.  Of course all things in moderation,” Desi said in a grandiose manner.

“If you’re willing to take a pay cut for your chaotic appreciation, fine. I can always tell our dear glorious leaders that you shellacked the desk,” Grapes said with a small smirk. “For chaotic and/or artistic appreciation.”

“Of course. And I am planning on taking all the desktops to the local art gallery and putting them into an interactive display… including a live refurbishing of their surfaces on the last day.” he mused, tapping his fuzzy chin with a finger. “Art is best appreciated in the moment, you never love, hate or become nauseated by art any more than the first moment you lay eyes upon it. Am I right, Miss Grapes?”

“Hm… I imagine it would depend upon the type of art,” Grapes mused as she cleaned up the classroom for the day. “Some movies for example need to be seen more than once to be fully appreciated, and some paintings do need a second glance to see all there is to them. Art that only has ‘shock value’ is the type that can leave a lasting and permanent first impression, but never lasts the test of time, because of its transitory nature.”

“True, true, but do we love the Mona Lisa because it is great art… or because we are TOLD it is great art?” He said, maneuvering a dry-mop around the legs of the chairs. “It is always described as the definition of ‘priceless’ and yet when seen in person you would be surprised to see just how small it is. Like going to meet your favorite actor and finding that they are shorter than you.”

“Size isn’t everything, Desi. And yes, while a lot of things can be made larger than life because of reputation, sometimes you have to appreciate them for what, and who, they are, rather than what the hype has made them out to be,” Grapes said picking up her books, and papers. “Well, I’ve got a couple of folks to meet for the commute home. See you tomorrow for the fiasco.”

“Ah yes… the great Fall Formal. I’m glad I don’t have to set up for that but cleaning up the fallout afterwards is going to be a chore. Ah well, it could be worse.” He said, pausing to lean on the handle of his dry-mop. “I mean someone could try to ruin the decorations and frame another student resulting in a desperate do-over, or maybe a conjunction of other dimensional energies upon our plane of existence may result in property damage, personal injuries and a heel-face turn of character… or it could just be a rainy day and we discover the gymnasium roof leaks. The possibilities are endless.”

“... Those first two are… strangely specific,” Grapes said, pausing by the door to the classroom. “We’ll see what tomorrow brings, though… I do have people waiting on me for a ride. See you tomorrow, Desi.”

“Of course. Have fun storming the castle.”

“D’ya think it’ll woik?” Grapes asked as if on automatic.

“It’d take a miracle.” Desi replied with a chortle, and returning to his sweeping while singing a strangely infectious tune under his breath. “Winter wrap-up, winter wrap-up...”

“Ugh… I’m NEVER going to get that out of my head, now…” Grapes grumbled.

Grapes made her way to the Wondercolt statue to meet Stormfront and Earshot for the ride home, glad another day was over, and more than ready for the week to be over. She paused by the statue, waiting for her other two passengers.

Earshot arrived first, walking past the statue and pausing in mid stride. He experimentally tapped his cane against the ground a few times, and seemed to ‘glance’ in the direction of the monument, although from the tilt of his head it looked more like something caught his sense of hearing. After a moment he cautiously continued his way to Sour Grapes’ auto and got in.

“Heya Miss Grapes. Heard you had a fun day.”

“Hello, Earshot. Even you heard about my dance demonstration with Stormfront?” Grapes asked  with a chuckle.

“Hard not to… and not just because I make more use of my hearing than most. Your dancing with Stormfront is nearly as big news as Miss Sparkle’s challenging Miss Shimmer’s bid for the crown. Miss Fluttershy said that when she asked her why she was standing up to Miss Shimmer she said ‘Somepony has to’, “ Earshot said with a smile.

“Some pony has to?”Grapes asked, raising an eyebrow. “Guess Twilight Sparkle’s really getting into the Wondercolt spirit, huh?”

“Yeah. I think that could catch on as a piece of regional… uh… schoolery? Academic institutionally dialect?” He took a moment to reorder his thoughts.  “Local slang?”

“There you go,” Grapes chuckled, as they waited for Stormy to get there. “Canterlot High slang. Everypony, because the Canterlot Wondercolts.”

“It’s pretty exciting though. I know I’m new to this sort of thing and it’s just for some carnival-grade trinket but seeing democracy in action even in miniature is really interesting.”

“I think there may be some dirty campaigning going on by a certain flame haired contender,” Grapes said with a sigh. “Even so… Hm… What’s keeping Stormfront?”

Stormfront eventually wandered out of the building and down the path to the car. He paused and looked back at the school once more before getting in.

“Hey. Ready to go?”

“Yup. Just was waiting on my final passenger. It still amazes me how you can fold up to fit in this tiny car, Stormfront,” Grapes said starting the engine. She quickly turned the car around, and got them going on their way home.

“I’m a LOT more flexible than most people assume.” Stormfront said, before glancing at where Earshot was politely listening in.  “Uh… no innuendo implied, of course.”

“No innuendo taken,” Grapes laughed, as they navigated traffic. “Just still expressing a certain disbelief. You aren’t exactly… petite.”

“True, that’s why I wound up taking dance lessons when I was younger than Earshot. I was large for my age and as a result a walking disaster area. The more I danced, the better I got at it and the more… limber I became.” Stormfront smirked and shrugged. “Sometimes I think I should go join a regular troupe while I’m young.”

“Why didn’t you?” Grapes asked, glancing over at Stormfront. “Were you wanting to finish your education first, or did you find out that the pay isn’t that great for traveling the world, putting on shows, getting blisters on your blisters, and possible sabotage from your fellow dancers who think they should be center stage instead of you?”

“Part education and part snooty toe-trippers. In Ballet the guys are the minority and so we’re usually the ones picked on by the ladies. So many prima donnas. They’ll tear a strip off of you if you’re anything less than perfect.” Stormy considered his statement before clarifying. “I mean not EVERY dancer is that way, but you get enough to ruin it for everyone else. So I’m gonna look for a nice offer from a well-established group. Serious but not SO serious they can’t see how silly a guy in tights can be.”

“Heh. I guess… Well hopefully you’ll find that troupe, once you graduate. Though you may be getting an aid on your dance days,” Grapes said with a chuckle.

“I would be delighted if I did. I mean it might sound cliche but, where have you been all my life?”

“Until about a year ago I was in college getting my teaching degree,” Grapes replied, as they pulled into the garage. “But my dancing ability is mostly natural talent, with a smidgen of practice.”

“Good to know. Still, I can’t help but feel you haven't exactly been getting a lot of use out of it. Especially the way you let go earlier.”

“Didn’t have anybody to dance with, before,” Grapes said with a smirk. “Especially somebody who could keep up. It was a pleasant change.”

“Same here. It’s been awhile since I’ve met someone who likes to dance for the sake of the enjoyment.”

“Just don’t ask me to tell you about my cybergoth phase,” Grapes said as she picked up her bag. “I looked ridiculous, but I still remember how to dance Industrial.”

“Cybergoth?” Stormy asked, suddenly intrigued. “So… corsets and lace with nixie tubes mixed in?”

“No nixie tubes. Some LED light strands, though,” Grapes said blushing a bit. “Nixie tubes would have been a bit too hot for a wearable fashion statement, no matter how boss they would have looked… Ugh… I’m going to have to show you that picture of me with glowing purple faux dreadlocks aren’t I?”

“Probably… Even without overheating nixie tubes I bet you looked hot anyways.”

“Uh… Thanks?” Grapes said blushing, as she opened the door for them, going inside, she going to her personal room, after dropping off her work on her desk. Grapes came back and gave Stormfront a picture of herself in a purple and black outfit including a black corset a purple skirt and black furry leg warmers with purple tips, wearing goggles, and what looked like a headdress made of black and purple tubes of either fabric or foam sprinkled with little glowing lights. She also looked about fifteen to sixteen in the photo.

Stormfront stared at the picture for a bit then let out a drawn-out wolf whistle.

“I’m not sure where the fashion for this came from but being perfectly honest with you, you looked pretty dang good.”

“Cybergoth, like I said,” Grapes said blushing. “It was a bit of college experimentation. Heh. I couldn’t just go goth, I had to go nerd chic goth.”

“Again I must iterate… where were you all my life?” he chuckled. “I would have loved to go clubbing with you… clubbing was the right word, right?”

“Yes. Yes it was… But at the time I was too young to get into clubs. I was fifteen when that photo was taken,” Grapes said chuckling. “Yes, I went to college when I was about… fourteen I think.”

“Fifteen… I think I was into Tap at that time. I got a little more respect with that, but still got teased for wearing ‘sissy shoes’.”

“Tap shoes? Sissy? Are you serious? Tap shoes can be positively dapper,” Grapes asked aghast.

“Keep in mind my peers wore high tops, cleats and all manner of sport-shoes. Anything with that level of polish on them was ‘unmanly’.” He was silent a moment then sighed.
“More than once I had to get them off of a telephone wire or a tree branch.”

“What kind of idiots consider dressy shoes to be ‘unmanly’?” Grapes asked. “Wait… Never mind. I always ended up with peers older than I was, because of my blazing through elementary and high school… Though if I had somebody as intelligent and well spoken as you in my class, I would have been somewhat tempted to stay for the so-called socialization.”

“Same here. You’re a little bit of an acquired taste but you’ve kinda been growing on me,” Stormfront said with a smile.

Grapes took back the picture, and looked at it with a chuckle, before putting it on her desk.

“Well… I think the morning may be normal, but the closer to the dance, things may be disrupted,” Grapes observed. “Just hope it’s not too bad. At least you don’t have to deal with a school dance, tomorrow. You did put forth a valiant effort to help people dance better, today, so that counts for something… I hope.”

“Hey, if they can dance without stepping on their partner’s feet then I’ve made the world just a little happier… by the way, who’s chaperoning?”

“Several teachers, including Vice Principal Luna. I’m on backup, but I may be a bit young for dance attendees to take seriously,” Grapes replied. “In the classroom, I have the authority because I have the big desk… But only barely in my afternoon class… You know that fiery haired snarker in your dance class? She’s in my afternoon history class. Brilliant girl, but it’s a challenge to keep her from being too board.”

“Oh.. You mean that miss ‘Bacon-head’ is the troublemaker you’ve been mentioning? Small school.”

“Yes. It is in a way. I’m going to go and take a hot bath, so I’m not sore tomorrow. I should have done some warm up stretches before doing that dance routine,” Grapes said heading to her part of the house.

“Good night,” He called after her before adding in quietly “My blackboard Cinderella.”

“Goodnight, Stormfront,” Grapes said, flashing him a smile, before going into her section of the boarding house for the night.

The next morning Grapes got up, doing her usual morning routine, before heading out into the more ‘common’ areas of the boarding house to see what was going on with everybody this fine Friday morning.

There were signs of life in the communal kitchen. Bowls had been used for instant oatmeal and put in the dishwasher as had the frying pan, Coffee had been brewed but the pot was half full, (did that make her an optimist?), slices of Grapefruit peel were in the trash and the chairs had been moved about. Just there were no people to be seen. Grapes took a moment to ponder this when she heard mumbling from nearby. Searching for the source she found her boarders out on the back porch, taking in the early morning air and their respective morning beverages. Apparently whatever Stormy was saying to them had their undivided attention.

“...and just like that. You and her, out on the dance floor?” Asked Firestormer before chuckling. “And neither of you looked like an idiot doing that without any practice or anything?”

“One final time, yes Firestormer. We just… clicked.” Stormfront explained. “I mean we got a LITTLE fancy but nothing like me lifting her into the air so it wasn’t like we needed a lot of practice for it.”

“Stormfront, darling. Would you indulge me and think back to how the whole thing felt like to you? Mmm?”

“Well Queenie it was… I mean she… and it…” Stormfront hesitated and seemed to try to sort the words out in his head. “It was like we had been dancing together our whole lives.”

Grapes paused to think of that assessment, as she poured herself a nice cuppa, and sipped it. It kinda did feel that way, after a fashion. If they had had the time to work out a routine they wouldn’t have needed that much rehearsal. She toasted herself an English muffin, putting butter and grape jelly on it, then sat at the table, relatively close to the back door. Innocent looking enough to have plausible deniability, but close enough to hear the conversation.

“Seriously man,” interjected Firestormer. “Listen to yourself. You’d think that you were getting some serious hangups on our landlord.”

“Do… do I?”

“Oh… Emm… Gee! YOU ARE! AHAHAHAHAHAH!” Firestormer burst into laughter, much to his friend’s chagrin. “Stormy’s all hot for teacher!”

“Seriously, Firestormer?” chided Queenie, sipping her coffee demurely from her place on the swing-chair. “What is this? Fourth grade? So what if his heart’s opening up a little…. I think it’s rather sweet.”

Grapes smiled  bit at Queenie’s being so quick to get on Firestormer’s case. The blonde haired woman had seemed like a very elegant sort but without a lot of the snootiness that many ‘high class’ people tended to have just from being born to wealth. Grapes finished her coffee and muffin, before going to get her satchel, looking around for Earshot. She shrugged, then headed to the back door, opening it, and looking at the assembled borders on her back porch with a raised eyebrow.

“Good morning, everybody,” Grapes said casually.

“Good morning, Grapes.” Stormy and the others chorused. Grapes noted that Earshot was down on the porch stairs waving up to her, apparently present if not giving anything to the conversation.

“About ready to head to school, Earshot?” Grapes said descending the steps, and heading toward the garage. “Got to get going before morning traffic gets too bad.”

“Yeff Miff Graphs.” he said through a full mouth. She glanced down at the ruby grapefruit in his hands. A large bite was taken out of one side but he had apparently been gnawing away at the innards for some time. She arched an eyebrow, most kids she knew could never eat a slice of grapefruit without dipping it in sugar with every bite, much less so enthusiastically consume a whole one. Earshot certainly loved his ‘sunshine fruit’.

“I’ll be waiting in the car, then,” Grapes said, heading to the garage. “Be sure you wash off the juice before you leave.”

“Yeff… I mean yes Miss Grapes.”

“Better get your own twinkle toes in gear too, Romeo,” Firestormer teased with a snort. “Maybe she’ll let you sit in the front seat. RIGHT beside her.”

“Do you think so? “ Stormy asked before catching himself. “Funny, Firestormer. Real funny.”

“He kind of has to sit in the front seat,” Grapes quipped, crossing her arms, and giving Firestormer a disdainful look. “It’s the only seat that can be pushed back to accommodate those long legs of his. Anyway his dance classes at CHS are only on Tuesdays and Thursdays. And since CSU is in the completely opposite direction…”

“Ok, ok. I gotcha.” Firestormer said holding up his hands. “You win.”

Earshot came back from the kitchen, wiping his face and hands with paper towels and tossing them into the composter.

“I’m all ready, Miss Grapes.”

“Hop in, my nocturnal friend, and we shall be on our way,” Grapes said, getting into the driver’s side. She then waved at everybody still on the porch. “You kids play nice while I’m gone, otherwise damages will be added to your rent.” Grapes pulled out of shed, and out into traffic heading them both to Canterlot High for what would turn out to be an eventful Friday.

It started right as Grapes entered the school building. The purple haired girl that Grapes had seen that Wednesday came right up to her with a bright smile and cheerful demeanor.

“Good morning,” she said enthusiastically. Behind her five other girls, one or two Grapes had seen around the school and one of whom happened to be in her afternoon history class, all facepalmed. “I’m Twilight Sparkle, as you probably know, and I’m running for Princess of the Fall Formal. I was hoping to talk with you to hopefully show myself in a different light from that horrible video that was posted online…”

“Good morning, Miss Sparkle, I’m Sour Grapes. I think I’ll push the pause button your campaign speech, right there, since I’m not allowed to vote for Fall Formal Princess,” Grapes replied looking amused as she shook Twilight’s hand.

“Really?” Twilight asked looking a touch startled. “Why is that?”

“Cos she’s tha history teacher,” Applejack replied for Grapes. “I have her after lunch. She’s a tough one, but ooh whee, does she make it interestin’.”

“You… you’re awfully young to be a teacher, Miss Grapes,” Twilight said cautiously.

“I get that a lot,” Grapes said with a shrug. “Though you do have a good pitch. You may have to step up your game to win people over if Sunset already has a leg up on you with her little bit of mudslinging.”

“Oh, Pinkie’s got something planned for later, but I thought I’d use the time until the big… event to be, you know, proactive,” Twilight said a nervous grin on her face.

“Keep at it, then, and good luck. Being knocked off her high horse may be good for Sunset in the long run,” Grapes said, as she walked toward her office.

The morning history class was a touch hard to teach between distracted students, and Snips and Snails whispering and chortling about something they did the day before. A pop quiz was quick to put a damper on both the distraction and the joviality. Then Grapes helped out in the library, checked with Principal Celestia to see if CHS had any art classes. Much to Grapes’ relief there was one, and it hadn’t been cut to help the school stay on budget. Grapes then went to see the art teacher, and arranged for Crimson Napalm to give up one of his free periods to attend art class to help him harness that raw talent, and not graffito the school’s desks anymore. Then just by pure chance she found the mohawked student in the hallway.

“Why Mister Napalm, how wonderful to see you. I noticed your artwork on your desk, yesterday,” Grapes said smirking at the boy, waiting on his reaction.

“I… I got nothing to say.” he stated, apparently used to accusations.

“So no opinion about possibly giving up a free period for an art class then?” Grapes asked, an eyebrow raised. “The likeness was rather good, the composition was quite nice, and satire was rather on point, though I do hope I have been engaging more than your artistic muse.”

“Art classes? But I’m no Artistic. I’m a solid part of the Rocker Clique.” he said, referring to the strange like-seeks-like herding instincts of the student body. “What would they say if suddenly I started taking art classes?”

“That you could probably design kickin’ band posters, and album covers?” Grapes suggested. “After all being a Rocker means you know the Rocker aesthetic. And putting your artistic skills to use means you could, possibly, make a little cash for your designing chops for those posters and album covers. Never mind having a better outlet for your doodling than defacing school desks.”

He was silent a moment, his eyes moving to the left and away from her betraying him actually thinking about this opportunity.

“So, I go to art class and do my own thing… and the desktops are forgotten?”

“They’re not forgotten. You are getting one detention. But only one, and just for the defacement of school property. I’m not one to punish somebody for a satirical representation, or artistic expression. I merely wanted to give you an opportunity to expand your artistic repetrior, and have a nice new hobby,” Grapes said patting his shoulder.

“...Can’t get a better deal than that, can I?” He acknowledged, before extending a hand. “Deal.”

“Good,” Grapes said shaking his hand. “I’d like to think you’re a good kid, Mister Napalm, but you just don’t have enough outlets for your creativity. Sure you play music, but that’s obviously not your only talent. Don’t let your clique dictate your life. They won’t always be there especially when you get older.”

“Gee. Thanks for the ‘After School Special’ speech.” he said with slight sneer which quickly dissolved. “But all snark aside, thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Grapes said, heading to her office to eat her lunch. “And I can appreciate good snark. I’m been known to be pretty snarky myself.”

After the lunch period, Grapes went to the break room for a cup of coffee and found a bunch of the teachers talking about the flash mob that had happened in the cafeteria.

“And the girls all started singing about helping this Twilight Sparkle win the crown… Then at the end, Twilight herself came in… That girl has got a wonderful voice,” Cheerilee said with a bright smile. “I do hope she wins. It would be a nice change of pace from the past couple of years…”

“Huh. So that’s the big event Twilight mentioned," Grapes said, sipping her coffee.

“She mentioned it to you? But I don’t think she’s in your class, Sour Grapes,” Cheerilee observed.

“Twilight mistook me for a student this morning,” Grapes said with a chuckle. “Maybe her being so ‘proactive’ before lunch helped change some minds.”

“Well I’m pretty sure that song helped,” Cheerilee said with a laugh.

“Takes more than a song to change everyone’s opinion around.” Grunted Cranky Doodle as he refilled his cup. “Still, I would LOVE to see the look on Sunset Shimmer’s face if someone else got crowned this year. She’s always so… insufferable after she wins.”

“I think it would be good for her in the long run, methinks,” Grapes observed.

“I believe that if it can take her down a whole peg, it would do wonders for the school’s morale.” Spoke Professor Fancypants, the school’s freshly acquired English teacher, as he quietly closed the door behind him. “However I’m certain that I need not remind you that we must not… or rather cannot show favorites. As faculty we must try to be impartial in this student exercise in democracy, or at least we must make a show of impartiality. No matter how much we wish Sunset Shimmer to be dethroned this year. Are we all in agreement?”

“Aye aye, mon capitan,” Grapes said saluting.

“Ugh,”Vice-Principal Luna uttered, coming into the break room, and sitting down with a sigh. “Could Sunset Shimmer be more obvious? She frames Twilight Sparkle for utterly destroying the decorations in the gym, but either she or her flunkies didn’t do a good enough job of disposing of the materials used to frame the poor girl. Just as I’m talking to her, and about to kick her out of the running, Flash Sentry shows up with proof that Sparkle was framed.”

“Sunset sounds either desperate, or just isn’t trying that hard… but then with help like she has, I’m not surprised the frame job was uncovered so quickly,” Grapes said with a sigh.

“I cannot, however, disqualify Sunset Shimmer, because I have no definitive proof that it was, indeed, she who framed Twilight Sparkle. Aside from the simple fact she brought me the doctored photos,” Luna said with a huge sigh. “Now the dance has to be postponed until tomorrow night.”

“And without any proof that she actually doctored the photos, rather than just finding them, you proverbial hands are tied,” Grapes said with a huff.

“Well then. Let’s hope that Twilight’s little song and dance got the ball rolling.” Cranky muttered, sipping at his coffee before realizing everyone was looking at him. “What? It was a catchy song, and I liked it. End of story.”

Suddenly a green haired woman with a pink shirt and khaki pants burst into the break room, just as Grapes was checking her watch to see if she should head to her afternoon history class.

“You’re not going to believe this! That Sparkle girl and her friends got the WHOLE DARNED SCHOOL organized ta fix the gym and decorations so they can have the dance tonight!” she said.

“Welp there goes afternoon classes,” Grapes uttered with a huge sigh.

“I’ve got to see this,” Luna said getting up and leaving.

The teachers all looked at one another and like the children they were supposed to be overseeing, they all got up at once and struggled to follow the Vice Principal out the door.

Grapes sighed, following the others, wondering how this one girl inspired the student body to work together like this.

It didn’t take long for the faculty to get to the gymnasium and find places to clandestinely watch the undertaking. True to Miss Peachbottom’s report, the room was a flurry of activity. All of the students working, surprisingly enough, together to fix the damage done… and succeeding. And there, in the middle of it all was that new mystery girl, Twilight Sparkle.

“Well… Looks like she’s doing a good job of leading by example,” Grapes said indicating Twilight.

“I’ll say. Look at how she’s reached out to them all and pulled them together.” observed Desi as he pushed a trash can full of wrecked decorations out past the teachers. “You’d think she was used to constant disasters and crises to handle this one so deftly.”

Grapes gave Desi a droll look, then turned back to watch the whole school fix the gym to make it look amazing again. She looked pleasantly surprised that things were turning out well. Then once everybody was finished, the gym looking good and dance ready. Principal Celestia came in a smile on her face. She clapped, seeming to applaud the effort that had been put into the cleanup as well as attracting the attention of everybody there..

“Alright, everyone, Fall Formal is back on for this evening,” she said prompting a cheer from the students in the gym. “So you’d better get out of here, and start getting ready. Oh and don’t forget to cast your vote for Fall Formal Princess on your way out.” The students started to file out of the gym, several of them assuring Twilight that she had their vote, each of them putting their ballot into the box that Vice-Principal Luna held.

“Well if the song didn’t do it, her rallying people to put the Fall Formal back on track sure did,” Grapes observed.

“Were I several decades younger the lass would have MY vote.” agreed Summer Squall. “Girl’s not a natural-born leader but she has empathy and a determination in there that shines through her flaws. Most people would rather follow a flawed leader who genuinely wants things to happen for the greater good than some blowhard who bullies their way to the top.”

Principal Celestia came into the hallway to find the audience of teachers, smiling amused at them being there. Vice-Principal Luna simply carried the ballot box past.

“Somebody’s going to be busy counting votes,” Grapes observed.

“I guess that means the school day is over then.” Cranky noted as he looked into the rapidly emptying gymnasium. “I guess I’ll be seeing the lot of you Monday. I’m heading home to my wife and not coming back until then.”

“Aw Cranky, you old softy.” Squall chortled, slapping Cranky on the back hard enough that his wig shifted positions. “Say hello to the Missus for us then and enjoy yer weekend.”

“Thank you, by the way, for volunteering to chaperone, Mister Squall,” Principal Celestia said smiling at the older man. “I knew I could count on you.”

“Awww…. Son of a Beach ball!”

“I’ll probably be hanging out in my office doing some grading,” Grapes said. “I think Earshot wanted to come, and I promised him a ride here.”

“Not helping chaperone, Miss Grapes?” Celestia asked an elegant eyebrow raised in curiosity.

“I was mistaken for a student, this morning, so I sincerely doubt I’d be an effective chaperone for a student dance,” Grapes replied with a sigh.

“Ah. Good call then.” Celestia said with a smirk. “Still, it’ll be good to have you nearby. Whether or not the students recognize you as an authority figure you are a level-headed member of the faculty.

“I’m glad you have such confidence in me, Principal Celestia,” Grapes said. “Anyway I’d better give Earshot his ride home so he can get ready. We’ll be back in a couple of hours in time for the dance.”

“Right. See you in a few hours. Same with you Mister Squall.”

“Arrrr.”

A couple of hours and a costume change for Earshot later, Grapes took him to her office so he’d have directions on how to get to it should he tire of the festivities.

“So you remember how to get back here, right?” Grapes asked. “You’ve never shown an interest in a cell phone, so…”

“Well we still have pay phones in the school, just in case, and I can always borrow a portable phone from maybe Queenie or Firestormer,” Earshot replied while smoothing his good vest.  “I don’t think much will happen other than music and dancing, I mean even Miss Shimmer wouldn’t start something at a big party. Right?”

“Oh you never know. She was seriously gunning for that crown for some reason,” Grapes said. “Also just come here when you get tired of the festivities. I’ll be here.”

“Right. I should be okay though. You have to remember what my hometown in Stygian Cove is like, though. Considering it is a popular tourist destination run by nocturnal people then an all-night party is… well… would ‘natural habitat’ be the right word for it?”

“Yes,” Grapes chuckled. “That is the right word for it. Have fun, Earshot.”  Grapes sat in her office, grading papers for a while, listening to the distant music from the gym. The band was rather good in her opinion. Then the music stopped. After a bit of a pause, there was one cheer. There was another pause followed by another cheer which caused Grapes to smile. “Guess Twilight won it.” Some time passed, during which Grapes finished the paper grading.

Suddenly from outside there was a flash of blue-gray light. Grapes got up, running toward the window at the end of the hall. Grapes gasped at the sight of somebody being lifted into the air in a pillar of blue-grey light. Grapes ran back to her office, grabbing the first aid kit off of the wall... Then without knowing why she felt compelled to, she snatched up the copper hat Desi gave her and put it on before she she belted down to the entrance hall to get a closer look at just what the blazes was going on.

She stood in the entrance, staring in shock at what was happening. Grapes looked down seeing Twilight and her five friends standing there staring as well, Twilight with a grim look oh her face. Grapes looked back up to the figure when all of the sudden the light faded, and floating there was a rather demonic figure. Light red skin, black wings with darker red webbing, a red and yellow dress that seemed to have a strange tail coming out of it, black boots with a flame motif, and of course claws and fangs. Her hair looked like a roaring flame, and on the creature’s head was the… Fall Formal Crown? That last part made Grapes a little confused.

The creature laughed maniacally, and then blasted Snips and Snails with a blast of that gray blue power, turning them into demonic creatures, too. Grapes looked back at the she-demon, looking up at the creature intently. She seemed… familiar, never mind her choice in flunkies...

Desi walked up along side of Sour Grapes and looked at the transformed Teen and her minions, and with a rather annoyed expression crossed his arms and spoke flatly.

"Well... crap. Now we have to leave the planet," Desi said grimly.

“... How?” Grapes asked, looking at Desi.

“What? Must I think of EVERYTHING?” he said incredulously before aiming a Geiger counter at the events outside and examining the results. "After all I am doing the hard part of theorizing about this event.
If my guess is correct what we are looking at is a negative energy flux of exotic particles entering our reality via a puncture in the dark matter layer between our respective universes. In short, a higher-energy  reality is forcing its way into ours like water gushing into a leaky canoe." He paused a moment and adjusted his  copper hat to a more rakish tilt. "Although having the vast majority of it enter a living vessel is no doubt going to cause some serious excrement to strike the fan."

“What SORT of excrement?” Grapes asked.

The demoness flew toward the entrance of the school, landing in front of it, and in a very familiar voice, if with some added reverb said: “I’ve had to jump through so many hoops, tonight, JUST to get my hands on this crown, and it really should have been mine all along!”

“Sunset Shimmer?” Grapes asked. “That… thing is Sunset Shimmer?”

“But let’s let bygones be bygones,” Demon Sunset said affecting a very toothy smile. “I am your princess now.” She gathered that strange energy in one hand. “And you WILL be loyal.” And by merely clenching her fist, she somehow destroyed the front entrance to the school, and tossed it aside as she added: “TO ME!”

Sunset then flew into the school her glowing teal gaze looking at the assembled students, causing a panic, and people running hither and yon.

“Do we have any students named Wilhelm?” Grapes asked, as she beheld the spectacle that Shimmer was making.

“I’m not sure. Why do you ask?” Desi replied.

“I think I just heard him scream,” Grapes said, watching Sunset to see what she would do next.

Suddenly Sunset put her hands on either side of her forehead, and her eyes seemed to turn into teal and black swirls. Around the heads of the assembled student body appeared these teal rings that sank into their heads causing them to stop in their tracks and moan like zombies. Sour Grapes had barely enough time to make a nonsensical verbal noise before a ring appeared around her head tried to shrink into her noggin. The result however was unexpected, the ring striking the copper hat on her head and fizzling out. A similar ring appeared above Desi’s head doing pretty much the same.
Blinking Grapes took quick stock of the situation, the rings seemed to have reduced the students and other faculty members into shambling, dull-witted beings with bright glowing eyes and yet she and Desi were… peachy keen. She glanced over to the school’s Janitorial staff/physicist and arched an eyebrow.

“Did you give us Faraday cages for our brains in advance?”

“You know… I think I DID.” he replied, sounding rather startled at the revelation. “I must be more brilliant than I first suspected.”

Sunset stood there, looking pleased at what had happened, she not noticing Grapes and Desi off to the side spectating the events, and turned to her minions.

“Round them up and bring them to the portal,” She ordered. Snips and Snails saluted, and ran off to do her bidding.  Shimmer strode to the destroyed entrance, facing the six girls who had been opposing her. “Spoiler alert: I was bluffing when I said I’d destroy the portal.”

“Portal?” Grapes asked looking confused.

“I don’t want to rule this pathetic little high school,” Sunset continued her monologue. “I want Equestria, and with my own little teenaged army behind me, I’m going to get it.”

“Yeah, it’s about to be over when the villain starts monologuing,” Grapes said drolly. “Also I don’t think she’s really thought this through. A zombified teenaged army? What are they going to do? Groan at whatever defenders they have on the other side of this portal she’s talking about?”

“It’ll be the shortest coup in history.” Desi shrugged, checking another sensor he had been carrying. “‘Every day they’re shufflin’.”

“Funnily enough I know how to do that dance,” Grapes observed casually.

“No!” they heard Twilight declare from outside. “You’re not!”

“Oh puh-LEESE! What, exactly, do you think you’re going to do to STOP me?!” Sunset gloated. “I have magic, and YOU have NOTHING!”

“She has us!” came a raspy voiced declaration. Obviously from one of Twilight’s friends outside.

“Fat lot of good that’s going to do,” Grapes snarked. “You don’t happen to have any more of those hats on hand, by the way?”

Sunset of course, laughed at the act of defiance.

“Gee! The gang really is all back together again,” the demoness said sounding amused. Then she started doing something that caused a fiery glow appear in front of her. “Now step aside! Twilight has tried to interfere with my plans ONE too many times, already! She NEEDS to be DEALT WITH!” There was a loud blast, and something that sounded like a fizzle. Sunset laughed in a display of overconfidence, then uttered a very startled sounding: “WHAT?!”

“The magic contained inside my element was able to unite with those that helped create it!” Twilight declared, as if she knew what the heck was going on.

“Uh… what?” Grapes asked, looking beyond Sunset’s demonic form to see the five girls and Twilight engulfed in magenta glow. Then, they suddenly started to transform, pony ears forming on their heads, and their hair growing long and forming ponytails. “Desi, are you seeing this?”

“Great Pepper’s Ghost! Do you see that?” Desi asked, his hand in the direction of the display. “The nauseatingly sappy monologue aside, they are also tapping into the energies from that puncture… but they are forming a positively charged cascade of Exotic Particles, and with multiple bodies they’re sharing the load between them. This… this could be a good thing.”

“Two of them grew wings, Desi,” Grapes observed. “Wings! No wait… three of them grew wings. The heck is going on at this school? Wait… Did she just say… ‘the magic of friendship’? Seriously? We just had some kind of magical girl transformation, and now she’s going on about ‘the magic of friendship’?”

“Yes, she did. Well I’m not about to say it’s all going to be sunshine and rainbows but if they can figure a way to neutralize Sunset Shimmer we might be looking at… WOAH.”

The girls floated up into the sky, and while there wasn’t sunshine it being about eight o’clock at night, there sure as heck was rainbows. Well a double-rainbow helixing up into the sky, and then forming a multi-hued tornado around the demonic form of Sunset Shimmer.

“What?! Is?! HAPPENING?!” Shimmer shouted.

“Rainbows… Rainbows are happening.” Desi said softly, taking his hat off. “I stand corrected.”

Then a rainbow beam shot from the floating girls, hitting Flash, then splitting to hit all the others that had been affected by mind control in a colorful cascade of curative goodness, terminating with Snips and Snails. The duo were surrounded by their own rainbow tornadoes, and dropping them, they back to their normal Freshman selves.

“Huh. Rainbows. Who knew?” Grapes quipped smirking up at Desi.

“Indeed.” he said sounding dumbstruck. “The things I have seen and yet, this may match the worst of them, but in a good way. That is provided their positive cascade managed to completely nullify Sunset’s negative one and is now letting the puncture heal.”

There was a huge crater in front of the school, now. Grapes and Desi watched the winged form of Twilight walk up to it, looking down into it.

“You will never rule in Equestria. Any power you may have had in this world is gone. Tonight, you showed everyone who you really are,” Twilight said in a stern tone. “You’ve shown them what’s in your heart.”

“Ouch. Way to kick her when she’s down,” Grapes observed.

“I’m.. I’m sorry,” Sunset sobbed, sounding both like herself and rather contrite. “I’m so sorry… I didn’t know there was another way…”

“The Magic of Friendship doesn’t just exist in Equestria. It’s everywhere. You can seek it out, or you can forever be alone. The choice is yours,” Twilight stated.

“But all I’ve ever done since being here is drive everyone apart,” Sunset uttered, as she climbed out of that crater. “I don’t know the first thing about friendship…”

“Isn’t that… kind of impossible?” Grapes asked as she watched Twilight pull Sunset to her feet, and gesture to the other five girls standing behind her.

“Those are my girls! Whoo HOO!” came a young sounding voice from outside.

“Did that dog just talk?! Whoa, weird!” a teal haired boy in an orange shirt declared.

“Seriously? The talking dog is the weird thing about all of this?” the aforementioned canine apparently said.

“You took the words out of my mouth, talking dog,” Grapes said, from her and Desi’s vantage point from behind the crowd. Grapes watched at Principal Celestia said something, causing Twilight to kneel before her, as the older woman placed the crown atop Twilight’s head. Flash Sentry ran up, offering his hand to Twilight, and the whole school started filing back in to finish up the dance that Sunset had interrupted. “Looks like the show’s over.”

“Indeed, and all we contributed to the situation is third person commentary,” Desi said before looking at the First Aid kit in Grapes’ arms. “Yet you were better prepared to contribute to a crisis than I was. Kudos.”

“It wasn’t just any commentary. It was snarky commentary. The best kind. And I grabbed it when I grabbed my hat. Weird explosions seem to call for some kind of first aid,” Grapes said tipping her hat to Desi. “Hm. I should see if the one person who seems worse for wear needs any. Excuse me, sil vous plait.”

With that Grapes casually strolled over to Sunset Shimmer who had been given a broom to get a start on cleaning up the monumental mess she had made of things. Grapes observed the young woman for a few minutes, before clearing her throat.

“So… Any scratches or abrasions that need treatment?” Grapes asked casually.

“A few.” Sunset said quietly “I just got slapped down by the rainbow-colored backhand of friendship so hard it made a crater. ...I think that’s the worst part. I was defeated by ‘the power of friendship’. I mean I can’t even… I…”

The teen trailed off, unable to articulate her feelings around all her plans falling apart because she just didn’t ‘get it’.
“Oh, so I’m not the only one who’s life was ruined by TVtropes.org,” Grapes quipped, opening the first aid kit and got out some disinfectant. “I’m still reeling from the pony themed magical girl transformation, and the evoking of a trope used primarily in anime of all things!”

“It was all going so well until the princess followed me here. I didn’t think for a second some coddled princess from Equestria would even consider coming through the mirror… alone.”

“Oh ghawd, princesses, too?” Grapes groaned, dabbing a cut on Sunset’s face causing her to hiss briefly in pain. “Also just how much do you know about this Twilight Sparkle, hm? She might not be as ‘coddled’ as you originally thought.”

“She was a lot more capable than I thought.” Sunset Shimmer admitted. “Did THAT also come from the power of friendship?”

“Hm…” Grapes mused. “Possibly but not in the way you think. I have Applejack in my history class as you know, that rainbow haired girl was obviously a jock, then there’s the prime fashionista, and the super shy animal lover… She hands out flyers for the shelter, so yeah, obvious. If her friends back in her home dimension are anything like those girls, Twilight was often probably pushed out of her comfort zone of libraries and books… Learned that little tidbit about her because I helped clean up the library after her research spree, Wednesday.”

“I’ve been here years, and she acclimatizes to it enough to function in a day and then gathers the elements of harmony, I had scattered, around her again and, and… who is she?” Sunset said softly, looking over to where Twilight was with her friends were saying their goodbyes. “I know they’ll draw me in, try to help me. It’s in their nature to. But it’s gonna rattle around in my head if THIS is why she embodies the element of magic and I... didn’t. Because others gravitate to her, not because she was a commanding personality but because she and her circle reach out to others.”

“Nothing wrong with that. It’s partially why I became a teacher. To reach out to others, and help them better themselves. That’s why I always try to make my lessons engaging, and leave you wanting to know more,” Grapes said with a smile. Off to the side, Grapes spotted Snips and Snails gathering up the bricks from the school’s facade. “So… You’re from this… Equestria place, too, right?”

“I did mention coming from a technologically backwards society, didn’t I?” she replied as the last few cuts were treated. “So yeah. I was a pastel-colored pony in a world where magic exists on a nearly omnipresent level… and is a fun-house mirror of the one you know.”

“So… how have you been living here? Did you kind of take over your human counterpart’s life or what?” Grapes asked, packing the first aid kit.

“Well when I first came here I didn’t ENTIRELY think things through. I just knew there was another world on the other side of a portal that Starsw… a famous wizard created to deal with some serious magical threats. A world that could be a stepping stone to me achieving great power. So I packed a bag full of what I thought I would need including a huge pile of bits and jumped on in.” She thought back on things and elaborated. “Bits of course being the local currency of Equestria. Coins the size of an Oreo cookie and cast from pure gold.”

“Huh. That’s what we call our largest coin denomination. Not quite that big, and of course adulterated bronze,” Grapes said. “The paper money being called ‘bucks’, and smaller silver colored coins called spurs, and smallest copper coins called buckles. What can I say? We humans love to complicate things.”

“Yes well, you do have one thing we don’t have. A plethora of Gold-for-money-without-questions shops.  One coin was enough to get started working this place out. Some research into investments helped me to work out how to invest the rest. Some quiet investments into stable companies with things people always need like zipper teeth and toothpaste gives me a living wage to… live off of. After that it was a lot of hard work to basically ‘catch up’ to a world where everything is so… different.” Shimmer said, peeking around the debris at the friends she had tried to break up.

“I can see that. Where are you living though? I doubt you’ve taken over a bomb shelter in the school or something,” Grapes observed, pausing as Luna came over, and very solemnly handed Sunset a cement trowel, the dumbed down duo bringing over a wheelbarrow of bricks.

“Luna, you know bricklaying is a skilled profession, right? The facade is going to look horrible if you make them do it,” Grapes observed.

“I don’t expect miracles, Sour Grapes.” Luna said with a nod. I hardly expect this to be… ‘magically’ repaired by morning. This is just an intern punishment until we can think of something far more appropriate Monday.” With that Luna walked off to meet her sister.

“Yeah. Detention doesn’t seem to really cover it…” Grapes observed looking thoughtful.

"Well, now you know my dark and terrible secret. I'm a brightly colored unicorn pony from a magical kingdom on the other side of an enchanted mirror."

"And yet you're still here,” Grapes observed.

"I got nothing to go back to there. When you get down to it, this world of... evolved simians is all I got." Shimmer was quiet a moment and sighed. "And Sparkle seems to think I'm... salvageable."

"Hm.. she may be a point. So...Back to my question, do you have a place to stay?"

"Actually, yes, I do. It's not like I was... I dunno, hiding out in some seldom-referenced corner of the library all this time," Sunset replied, dialing back her sarcasm.

"So you have a place. Is your money holding up?" Grapes asked.

"I'm not exactly rolling in the Bits here but, I have a steady income. Things would be better if I found a cheaper place," Sunset observed with a sigh.

"A cheaper place, hm?"

"Well less expensive but not worse than where I live, now, you know?" She clarified. "I live in the Hairy Arms apartment block over on Third and Jester."

"Oh good heavens. That neighborhood? I've got a boarding house. You're moving,” Grapes said assertively.

"Wait? What?"

"Third and Jester is not the best of neighborhoods even on a good day. I have a boarding house, and probably charge less rent than that place, and it's in a safer neighborhood," Grapes explained

"I... I... Um... Thanks? But, why are you being so nice?" Sunset asked.

"You're a smart girl, with a bright future that I'd hate to see killed in a drive by,” Grapes explained. "Also, I like you. You're as smart as I am, and have been helping me with my lesson plans."

"That's well... Thank you."

"No problem. I'll get some of my other boarders to help you with your move,” Grapes mused. "Stormy should be intimidating enough to deter any interference."

"Stormy? You mean Stormfront?  He's the dance teacher, right?” Sunset asked.

"Yes, he is,” Grapes replied. "He and Mister Squall live at my boarding house."

"I never really thought about where they sleep at night... or that the hottest teacher at school lives with my history teacher,” Sunset said then blinked realizing what she had just implied. “...I didn't mean it like it sounds."

"Hot for teacher, huh?" Grapes asked with a smirk.

"Y-NO! It's just...  High School Phys-Ed teachers are not supposed to have... Sky Blue eyes and 'Fab Abs'!” Sunset exclaimed, gesturing as if it would emphasize her point. “They're supposed to be balding with a paunch."

"He's a DANCE teacher, Sunset."

"So I've heard, but he's still a Phys-Ed teacher,” Sunset asserted. “Because of him the Wondercolts have actually improved this season. They aren't moving like flour sacks with feet."

“Amazing what can be done with just two days a week,” Grapes observed, then heard Earshot’s tap-tapping cane as he walked toward the entrance. She turned to see the freshman in question. “Ready to head home?”

“Yes Miss Grapes.” the young boy replied before tilting his head at Sunset Shimmer. “So, on the other side of the statue pedestal you’re a pony?”

“Uh… yes?”

“And over there, Miss Twilight Sparkle is a pony too?”

“Yes?”

Earshot was quiet a moment as if thinking about something before speaking again.

“Does that mean I would have turned into a pony over there too?”

“I…”  Shimmer started before turning this question over in her own head. “You know, I think you actually would have turned into a pony too.”

“Sounds kind of weird. I mean, how would we have helped you to take over when we wouldn’t even have hands for weapons?”

“You know, he’s got a point,” Grapes observed. “You’d have had a bunch of teenaged ponies following you all doing the zombie shuffle, and unable to do anything else, because they’ve been humans all their lives.”

"Yeah… To be honest I had a much more elaborate plan than that but... I think all that magic just turned off the parts of my brain that govern reason and proper planning."

“So… shortest coup ever,” Grapes snarked with a grin.

“No doubt, especially when the rulers of the land can actually raise and lower the sun and moon at will.”

“... That’s scary,” Grapes said, making a face. “Anyway… We’ll get you moved this weekend,” Grapes said escorting Earshot out. “We’ll probably have to rent a moving truck or something for whatever possessions you have.”

“Right. I’m sure we can find something.” Sunset said before hesitantly adding “Sour Grapes? Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Grapes said saluting the former bully. “See you tomorrow.”

About halfway to her car Earshot turned to Grapes and spoke.

“You know what, Miss Grapes? I think I’m glad I didn’t go to that Desistia place. With my luck I’d have turned into a bat or something. OOH! Maybe a pony with Bat wings! That has possibilities.”

“It’s ‘Equestria’, Earshot. A land of ponies with the Latin word for horse, equis, as a part of its name. It’s the root word for ‘equestrian’, which means ‘having to do with riding horses,” Grapes corrected. “And a nocturnal type of pony with bat wings would fit you. You would probably be really adorable, too.”

“Aww, thank you, Miss Grapes. I only got one problem though.” He said as she opened the car door for him.

“Oh? And what would that be?”

“I’m supposed to regularly write home to tell everyone what life in another country is like. How exactly do I tell them about tonight without sounding like I need to be locked away in an institution for the ‘mentally interesting’?”

“That’s a really good question, Earshot. Maybe not bring up the magical stuff, and just talk about what you enjoyed about the dance?” Grapes suggested. “I’m still having trouble believing the whole magical transformation and rainbows thing myself.”
> The Calm Before the Stormy
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Saturday after a certain fateful Fall Formal a pair of geniuses met at the large house, practically a mansion, on Sunshine Street.

“Welcome to Chez Grapes,” Grapes said opening the door. “You have your choice of rooms, because they’re not completely full up.”

“So far, it is a lot nicer than where I was, before,” Sunset asserted. “Nevermind not hearing screaming fights, having to walk past gang members and addicts.”

She walked around the main floor and peered into the music room.

“Is… is that a harpsichord? How do you afford all of this on a teacher’s wage?”

“It came with the house,” Grapes explained. “I inherited the house from a relative, and got help in turning it into a boarding house so I could keep it. Also… I don’t get paid yet. I’m still an intern. An intern with an office, true, but still an intern. I imagine the school board is all for pressuring Principal Celestia to keep me an intern for as long as humanly possible.”

“Yeah. That’s a thing that only happens in THIS world.” Shimmer observed running her hand over the Harpsichord. “In Equestria we never would get away with that sort of thing unless you were specifically an apprentice. Say what you will about the Royal Vizier, he got some laws on employment hammered down.”

“I wouldn’t know what to say about the Royal Vizier, since I’ve never been to Equestria,” Grapes said chuckling. “You play?”

“Haven’t touched any musical instruments since I came here. When I mirror-jumped I didn’t bring so much as a guitar, so I have no idea how to… ‘handle’ one.” She said, holding up her hands and wiggling her fingers for emphasis. “I might be able to still sing though, sometimes spells have somatic components so, being able to carry a tune can only help a magic-focused career.”

“Interesting,” Grapes observed. “Well you know I can dance, can teach a mean history class, and can be snarky at the drop of a copper folded hat. Not a lot of talents but they’re mine.”
“Wait, what’s that about a copper, folded hat?”

“Mister Cordington gave it to me,” Grapes said with a chuckle. “Turns out copper’s more effective than tinfoil for deterring mind control.”

“Cordington? The janitor who teaches philosophy and physics? ...Actually considering how strange he is, getting a copper hat from him makes perfect sense.” Sunset Shimmer said before going back to the front hallway to watch the Storm Riders pulling her possessions from the cube truck. “So copper, huh? I’ll have to make a note of that.”

“I see you guys made it okay. No trouble from the locals?” Grapes asked, then turned to Sunset. “You didn’t say which room you wanted.”

“Oh. Sorry. Uhm. Could you give me a few minutes to look at my prospects?”

“There are some upstairs, and some downstairs,” Grapes said pointing up the stairs, and to the servants’ area. “Whichever you choose these goofballs will move your stuff in.”

“Right. Ok, take five everyone. This is gonna take me a little time.” Sunset Shimmer said to the group before looking at the servants rooms first.

Squall wandered over to Grapes and took a sip from his coffee before addressing her.

“Not to say this here’s a BAD idea or anything, Lass but are ya sure it’s a GOOD idea to bring her into yer home?”

“No, but I’m giving her a chance, and I figure that you, Stormy and Firestormer can probably take her,” Grapes observed casually. “Also, you guys would be good role models for her.”

“You sure about THAT? I’m still banned from entering certain countries even this much time later.” Squall said with a rather raunchy chuckle. “Not that I have any regrets. Completely WORTH it.”

“Should be some interesting stories,” Grapes said with a grin.

“Oh yes. Definitely over a hot drink kind of stories. But seriously I think I can at least remind her we all pull some real boners in our youth that help shape us as we grow up.”

“... Uhm… You do know that word means something else nowadays, right?” Grapes asked looking at Squall with a slight smirk.

“What? Oh! Oh right. Sorry. My bad. Uh… Make Mistakes growing up?” Squall said, correcting himself.

“Yeah. Though I don’t know if yours will scale to hers, but at least Sunset will know she’s not completely alone,” Grapes said with a laugh, as they waited for Sunset Shimmer to pick a room.

Finally after some deliberation Sunset found that the moderate sized room on the second floor at the end of the hallway suited her needs the best. The team began to move her modest second-hand furniture into the living space and Sunset indicated where she thought they would best look. After she was settled in she looked at the icons on the doors of the already occupied rooms.

“You know, it always seemed strange how everyone in this world has a cutiemark even though the very concept of it is alien to them.” She remarked to Sour Grapes.

“What’s a cutiemark?” Grapes asked.

“It’s uh… Kind of a…” Sunset groped for the words before taking a deep breath and going into a monologue that obviously came straight from the mouth of a parent.”Well, when a filly or colt reach a certain age they begin to start feeling changes in their interests. As they begin to try and develop new things such as skills, abilities and the like they inevitably discover that one thing that they are better at than anything else that they personally do. For somepony this might be a talent for craftsmare...craftsMANship, others it may be a social talent, a physical talent or even an intellectual talent. When they find this special talent, there’s a sharp burst of magic about their hindquarters and an image that suggests said talent appears upon their flanks… Both sides.”

Grapes was silent a moment, mentally sorting this out in her head before replying.

“You make it sound like ponies spontaneously transfigure a talent-related tattoo on their tushies”

“That... sums it up surprisingly well..” Sunset reluctantly agreed. “Granted you REALLY gotta jump through some mental hoops to work out the meaning in some cutie marks but most are fairly straightforward. You see somepony with a hammer and saw on their flank, it probably means they’re a carpenter, you see a stethoscope they’re probably a doctor, and so on and so forth.”

“Uh huh… That’s… interesting. As for our emblems… I’m not sure how we end up with them, but they seem to represent… us,” Grapes said with a shrug. “I know mine is what I just thought looked neat.”

“We talkin’ about them icons we all use, Lasses?” Summer squall said carrying up a mermaid-centric lamp. “I can’t speak about most others but while in the navy I got three sheets to the wind while in port and woke up in my bunk with winged anchors upon me forearms… and they kinda grew on me. Like they was sayin’ ta me ‘Mister Summer Squall, wherever ya fly in the world, you can set yer anchor down and call it home’. I really think them tattoos were on ta somethin’ there.”

“Yes, YES! It’s just like that!” Sunset said, as what Squall said resonated with her meaning. “That’s a lot like what it’s like to get a cutie mark. Sometimes there’s interpretation involved so there are ponies who miss the point of their talent but most often they do ‘get it’.”

“I just chose mine because it was kind of like my name,” Grapes said tapping her bunch of grapes pin on her shirt. “If my token was talent oriented, I would think it would be something related to history.”

“Passing along juicy nuggets of knowledge to thirsty young minds?” Sunset suggested.

“You seem to be the main one who has a thirsty young mind,” Grapes said mussing Sunset’s hair. “But you are not incorrect. So if my emblem was talent oriented, I doubt it would be a bunch of grapes.”

“Well I did say some needed mental gymnastics to get to,” Sunset observed, trying to straighten her hair from Grapes’ messing it up.

“You mean like Cheerilee’s smiling daisies?” Grapes asked. “She always said they represent the care she takes with her students, helping them to learn and grow.”

“Yeah, like that. Not exactly obvious, is it?” Sunset replied with a bit of a sheepish grin.

“No. No it’s not. Also I think she may have had some of that idealistic shine rubbed off in the face of student apathy,” Grapes said with a small smirk. “Anyway welcome to the abode. Rent’s due around the first of the month. I try to work it out with you when it’s best for you to pay it. You have a mini fridge downstairs to store your personal foodstuffs. I may get a communal fridge for things that everybody eats, but keep stuff you don’t want people nabbing in your fridge.

“I was wondering about that room full of mini fridges. The padlocks on each one seemed… ominous.”

“It’s just everybody protecting their favorite treats from pilferage,” Grapes said with a chuckle.

“And accidental mis-snackage.” Squall said with a smirk. “We’ve all been there, Lass. It’s the middle of the night, you come down all bleary-eyed for something you squirreled away and you reach for the wrong handle. Trust me when I say, you do NOT want to accidently reach into Earshot’s fridge when half-asleep.”

“Why? What’s he got in there? Body parts?” Sunset asked, teasingly.

“He’s from overseas.” The old man said with a dark chuckle. “They got ‘exotic’ tastes over there y’know. Think along stories of Amputee Frogs, Lye-infused fish and Ez-cart-Gott.”

“Oh. OH! Geez… yeah. Ok. I get it now.” The teen agreed, her face going a shade paler.

“Yeah, if he gives you something to sample, do not, for the sake of your sanity, ask what’s in it,” Grapes advised. “They’re usually good, but you don’t want to make yourself retroactively sick.”

“Right. He’s… the blind kid, right?” Sunset asked, tentatively as if uncertain of broaching the subject.

“He’s ‘legally blind’. Earshot’s got an interesting eye condition that’s a genetic trademark among his people. He has amazing night vision, but has to wear special goggles to not have his eyes seriously burn in the daytime,” Grapes explained. “So he can use an oil lamp to see words and pictures in those books that aren’t in braille.”

“Huh. I’ve seen him around, but never heard anything about him. Or thought to ask.” She admitted. “He’s one of the few people in the school I haven’t actively bullied. Guess even I wouldn’t go out of my way to pick on the handicapped. Can’t say for certain if Snips and Snails got proactive though.”

“Hey, Earshot?” Grapes called, unsure where he happened to be at the moment.

“Yes Miss Grapes?” Came his voice from the heating vent, no doubt he was trying it as an intercom.

“Did Snips and Snails pick on you? I remember you said you used your night vision to elude a couple of bullies,” Grapes asked.

“The short pudgy kid and tall skinny one? Yeah that was them.” Earshot replied, his voice sounding metallic and hollow through the grate. “They said handicap or no they wanted to make me feel like any other student at the school. Kinda nice in a misguided, mean-spirited way.”

“Properly bullied?” Grapes quipped with a chuckle.

“Oh for the love of…” Sunset said looking quite chastened as she pressed the palm of her hand to her face. “Equal-opportunity bullying? Really guys? ...well at least I can’t say they didn’t TRY to be politically correct in their political incorrectness.”

Grapes chuckled patting Sunset’s shoulder consolingly.

“Well there is one thing you said when you were all demoned up that is good advice,” Grapes said with a smile.

“And what would that be?” Sunset asked with a touch of scepticism.

“Let bygones be bygones,” Grapes said heading out of the hall. “Though I imagine a lot of your fellow students aren’t going to follow that advice. School kids can be so cruel.”

“We can be?” Came Earshot’s surprisingly happy sounding reply from the vent. “I… I didn’t know that was an option! Thanks Miss Grapes!”

“WAIT! I meant it as a state that school kids could be, Earshot, not as an option!” Grapes protested. “You know how the bullies tried to bully you, or if your classmates made fun of you, or if people are going to hold serious grudges against Miss Shimmer, here.”

“Oooh. Right. Sorry… good thing you got me before I soaped someone’s windows.”

“Save it for Halloween,” Grapes quipped. “Some of my neighbors are dentists, and give out toothbrushes.”

“He’s not that mean-spirited, is he? I mean… soaping up windows?” Sunset asked incredulously.

“Yeah, Earshot’s a sweetheart,” Grapes said with a chuckle. “And would probably turn into an adorable bat winged pony through that portal of yours.”

Sunset cringed and gave a visible shudder.

“I’m not certain if they’re real but back home we have stories of Bat-Winged ponies and they’re anything BUT adorable.” the Ex-pony recollected. “Night ponies are best compared to ghouls or  vampires, and were linked to an old legend involving a lunar goddess figure. ...You know, I could make money writing this stuff down in a book. Maybe make a cartoon series off of it.”

“Ugh. Not more vampires…” Grapes groaned. “If it’s not vampires it’s zombies… Though some zombie stories are pretty good, as are some vampire stories, but still there seems to be an absolute glut of them.”

“I just meant my world in general. Think of it. A world filled with colorful ponies and other magical creatures? It’d go over big with little girls.” She paused a moment and then smirked. “And the occasional guy with a sensitive side.”

Grapes chuckled then seemed to think of something.

“Say, Earshot, are you talking through the vents or in them?” Grapes queried.

“I’m just talking through them, Miss Grapes.” Earshot replied. “While it looks interesting to explore I’m in no hurry to. I mean these are heating ducts and the last thing I need is for someone to feel chilly while I’m exploring.”

“Smart move, kiddo. Wonder when we’ll get winter, this year?” Grapes mused. “Holidays should be interesting to say the least.”

“Hard to say. One thing this place has in common with Equestria is how… sudden the seasons can change.” nodded Sunset. “Granted you have no direct control over your weather but still… it catches you off guard.”

“... Direct control? Over the weather?” Grapes asked, looking a touch shocked. “That’s a thing in Equestria?”

“Magic is the ‘unobtanium’ of my world. Many issues are solved by applying the energies of Unicorns, Pegasai or just plain old Earth Ponies to it.” She said rolling her eyes at the memory. “Need Four harvests a year? Earth Pony that stuff!  Have crafts that require fine manipulation? Unicorn that stuff! Need weather on demand? Pegasus that stuff! When you’re born with it, the incredible looks commonplace after a while, you know?”

“Hm. Sounds kind of sad, honestly… Though you did say your world was a technological backwater… Does ponykind kind of dismiss the whole technology angle because they have magic?” Grapes asked. “If so that makes the ponies of your former world seem awfully short sighted.”

"Well... Technology EXISTS. I've seen some advanced electrical or mechanical devices from time to time but they have yet to discover mass production the way we know it. So that means everything is handcrafted... uh... so-to-speak,” Sunset replied.

“Well I imagine a lot of ponies don’t need the things that humans do to get by,” Grapes mused thoughtfully. “Anyway, put your emblem on the door. I’ll get your key. And pick a fridge for your nomables. I’ll have to ask all the residents for a collection for a nice big communal fridge… Bigger than the one that’s currently in the kitchen.”

“That does make sense. We would want something we can just grab and work with,” said Sunset nodding.

“The mini fridges would be for those foodstuffs that are diet specific, or you like specifically and don’t want others to grab,” Grape said nodding, and headed to the living room. “Okay, everybody, considering that there are some things we all eat,” she said addressing everybody who was there, “I was thinking we need to buy a bigger fridge for communal noms.”

“I’m all for that, Miss Grapes! Count my silver in!” came Earshot’s voice from the register.

“Wow, that kid’s got good hearing,” Grapes said with a laugh, as she looked to the others for their input.

“Well, I think I speak for us all that we are willing to chip in for a elevation in our communal resources.” The golden-haired Queenie spoke, looking over at the aging refrigerator in the corner. “And to be honest I suspect old frosty there has been chugging away long past its golden years were over.”

“We’ll be sure to retire the old fellow with honor. We’ll have to shop for a large, energy efficient fridge that won’t break our collective budget,” Grapes said with a chuckle. “Right now your rents are the only income I have, so I appreciate the willingness to contribute.”

“I am… acquainted with people in the refrigeration fields. I could always see if they have any recommendations on the topic.” Queenie added pulling out a small notebook and flipped through the pages. “You would be surprised at how eager they are to speak upon their field of speciality.”

“Anything to do with the business courses you’re taking?” Grapes asked with a raised eyebrow, a small smile on her face.

“Ah… somewhat, yes.” She admitted with an evasive glance to the side. “Also many are family friends.”

“Look, there’s no shame in learning to do something better,” Grapes said earnestly. “I learned all I could about teaching and history before I even considered applying for the job. Mind you I did have a bit of an advantage, but still, willingness to learn something new, especially if it will make running your family business easier, and better is never a bad thing.”

“True. It’s just people look at you a little differently when they find your family runs the Avalanche Valley Frozen Foods Company outside of town.” She confessed with a sigh. “They always expect you to be some pampered, little daddy’s girl with a purse full of bits.”

“Oh, hey, your company makes all my favorite frozen dinners,” Grapes said with a grin. “And you may sound a bit posh but you don’t act like that little… so’n’so I have in my morning class…”

“Diamond Tiara?” Sunset asked in sotto voce.

“Diamond Tiara,” Grapes said nodding.

“Yeah. Our Queenie, her childhood face is on the packages all dimpled and with a little Tin-foil crown.” Firestormer said giving her a one-armed hug much to Queenie’s ire. “The Ice-queen of Avalanche Valley, hence the nickname we gave her.”

“That YOU gave her, Firestormer.” Stormfront said with a smirk. “It was just too catchy for the rest of us  not  to use.”

“Guilty as charged. Still she’s not as wealthy as you’d think.” He went on to explain, for his compatriot. “Long story short, factories have a lot of overhead to keep running, especially when you don't want to lose quality OR fire anyone.”

“He’s blunt as bag of hammers, but Firestormer is correct.” sighed Queenie as she placed a hand on Firestormer’s face and gently pushed him away. “In this economy even frozen goods have taken the metaphorical blow to the unmentionables and so some of the less-important sacrifices were made so we would not have to make the important ones. As you deduced my choice of classes are to hopefully gain skills that will allow me to find a new path we have yet to discover.”

“I do prefer Avalanche Valley brand over a lot of others because of the quality,” Grapes said with a nod. “And I like the idea of you using your education to help keep that quality at the same level.”

“Wait… YOU’RE Ice Storm, the heiress to the Avalanche Valley brand?” Sunset Shimmer said blinking. “I guess that whole Eight Steps thing really IS true.”

“Uh… what?” Grapes asked confused, looking at Sunset. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh. It’s a game that’s played at parties and stuff. It’s called Eight Steps from Handsome Hamhock.” Sunset said with a shrug. “The idea is that you can connect nearly anyone and anything in the world to Handsome Hamhock inside of eight degrees of separation.”

“You mean like that linking exercise I had your class do connecting Feudal Era Japan to Monarch Butterflies in the fewest steps?” Grapes asked with a grin.

“Uh… yes… just like that. Although the whole thing revolves around just one guy. Like he’s the flippin’ Illuminati or something,” Sunset said making a frustrated face.

“It also is a way for somebody to establish how much of a fan they are of Hamhock, because I imagine a lot of the links are tenuous at best, and either made up or misremembered at worst,” Grapes observed. “You would have to be almost obsessively familiar with his career to even make a tenuous link. Anyway, what does Queenie being the heir to Avalanche Valley brand have to do with that Eight Steps game?”

“Just that you never expect to be a bunkmate of someone who’s daddy runs one of the town’s key industries.” Sunset answered. “She is well inside Eight steps between Avalanche Valley Frozen Foods and the Ruler of a nation of magical ponies.”

“Avalanche Valley is a brand of frozen foods, run by Queenie’s dad. Queenie herself lives in my boarding house for college convenience, you live here because I decided it was both safer and cheaper for you to live here. You’re originally from a land of magical ponies who are ruled… by the pony universe incarnation of Principal Celestia?” Grape posited. “Hm… to add another step, I would… Oh… Were you that ruler’s protege by any chance?”

“HOW DID YOU KNOW?” She blurted out before catching herself. “I mean… how did you know?”

“Stuff I overheard about Twilight, and how she behaved toward Principal Celestia, your candid admission about being a magical unicorn from another dimension, your previous behavior, and the whole ‘I want Equestria’ speech while you were demoned up,” Grapes listed off ticking them off on her fingers. “Deductive reasoning and a pile of clues. So I was right, and you were her student?”

“Yes. Yes I was. Same as Twilight, only when I got too…” Sunset stopped a moment and the expression on her face changed to one of regret. “Well, I became too obsessive. Too focused on being the best, and trying to uncover the secret behind a magic mirror that I got booted off of ‘Team Celestia’ and she brought in the new model. Long story short I came here because I believed that this world would hold great power for me to do the whole ‘show them all’ trope.”

“Yeah, and being hopped up on magic didn’t let you remember that that trope never ends well for the person executing it,” Grapes said. “Well you have a chance to turn things around, and be a better person. Second chances don’t come often, nor are they the easy road, because people are too eager to throw your past mistakes in your face, but nothing worthwhile is ever easy. Just be glad you’ve got a weekend to settle in, and get used to communal living with people who are actually likeable.”

“Or at the very least do not know you well enough to hump to a false conniption.” Sirocco added cheerfully.

“What?” Sunset asked, looking confused.

“She meant ‘jump to a wrong conclusion,’” Grapes said with a chuckle. “That’s Sirocco. She’s another from overseas but her Eqquish isn’t as good as Earshot’s.”

“My home has a very different language, while every day Earshot’s village deals with terrorists.”

“That’s TOUR-ists, Sirocco!” Came Earshot’s panicked voice through the register. “Please. If no other words you learn the difference to, know the difference between a tourist and a terrorist. Otherwise you will be on a first name basis with airport security forces very quickly.”

“Okay… Queenie, you need to get good fridge recommendations, and possibly deals. Everybody else needs to… do whatever it is you do on weekends. Sunset, you need to unpack, settle in, and do any weekend homework you may have, and I need to go to a bookstore, and pick up that book of common idioms and phrases,” Grapes said grabbing her wallet. “Though if anybody wants me to get anything for them while I’m out, hand over the cash and a list. I’d rather take care of things in one car trip. And no you can’t just ask me to buy it and give me an IOU. I don’t even make a teacher’s salary, yet, so I am on a very strict budget.”

The group quickly found pens and paper and jotted down basics and in most cases pinned nessicary money to the notes. However they handed them to Stormfront who then handed them to Grapes with a shy smile.

“Would you mind if I tagged along?”

“No, I wouldn’t. You’d be handy to carry things,” Grapes said with a chuckle.

“I’ll come too,” Sunset said with a smile, causing Grapes to look at her with a raised eyebrow. “What? I already did my homework during my free periods.”

“So no fear of encountering classmates?” Grapes asked, causing the former she-demon to blink, then look thoughtful.

“Yeah… good point…” Shimmer said making a face. “I should wait a bit before showing my face around town… It’s probably a little too soon, and still a bit raw…”

“Don’t mean to discourage you, Sunset, but yeah… The last thing you need is somebody deciding to throw rocks or something,” Grapes said patting the girl’s shoulder. Grapes then looked through the lists, and the amounts included. “So you guys don’t mind me shopping at discount stores I take it.”

“What?” Squall said with a touch of incredulousness. “You make that sound like a bad thing, lass. Some of me best possessions came from bargain bins, odd-lots and Thrift stores.”

“It just means such things have… personality to them.” Queenie agreed, with a shrug. “Also sometimes you find things there that cannot be found elsewhere.”

“Just me being hyper aware of how much things cost in most places, because of that strict budget I mentioned earlier,” Grapes said, looking at the lists again. “I tend to do a lot of shopping at buck stores, myself, because the items are cheaper, and generic works just as good as name brands.” Grapes then folded the lists and cash into a packet and put them into her bag. “C’mon, mister foldy, we’re burning daylight.”
“By your command, my lady.” Stormy said with a genteel bow before holding the door open for Grapes.

“Wow,” Sunset chuckled, as soon as they were out of earshot. “He’s got it bad, doesn’t he?”

“He certainly does.” Queenie agreed. “He’s one of those heart-on-your-sleeve types. Probably good for us he’s sensitive too. Could you imagine if he were one of the more disgruntled types? There’s a lot of protein behind those knuckles should he ever make a proper fist. You know… the kind where you remember the thumb goes on the outside and not the inside.”

“And suddenly I’m glad he’s such a sweetheart,” Sunset said looking a touch worried.


Meanwhile Grapes and Stormy were pulling out of the driveway and into Saturday traffic.

“We’ll hit the smaller stores first, before we try the big box that is Barnyard Bargains.. I always try to avoid those if I can. They’re not as good a deal as they make themselves out to be,” Grapes mused, as they drove.

“Ah yes. The joys of buying in bulk, welcome to our country.” Stormy joked rolling the window down so he could catch a breeze. “This one is gonna require us dropping by the bait shop. Earshot wants two pounds of… huh. Yeah, only kid I know who sees little difference between a bait shop and a grocery store.”

“Well we did warn Sunset about his ‘exotic tastes’,” Grapes laughed. “But I’d rather avoid giving more money to Filthy Rich than I absolutely have to. He’s got too good a PR department for my peace of mind.”

“Well there’s Price Choppers for our grocery needs… most of our needs.”

“Buck Merchandise is good for general goods, too,” Grapes said with a nod.

“And… huh. Squall has recommended Salty’s Salvage for some of what’s on his list. Can’t wait to see what THAT looks like.”

“Oh, it’s that Naval surplus store,” Grapes said with a grin. “That place is great for sturdy items that will last a long time.”

“I should have guessed.” Stormy said looking at the list. “He’s got some serious winter gear on here. I wonder if he knows something we don’t?”

“He seems like to be the sort who just has to be prepared… Though I wonder if he does know something we don’t…” Grapes mused. “Winters aren’t usually bad, here…”

“He might be the type to have the Farmer’s Almanac, which is pretty darn reliable.” Stormfront admitted. “Might be worth looking into things.

“Maybe. Guess we’re going to have to make a group trip to the outlets,” Grapes mused, as the pulled into Salty’s Salvage.

The building was only two stories but was broad and wide. Salty’s Salvage came across in appearance to an old factory that had been converted into sales space in the past. The interior had a warm feeling though, the bare brick walls were clean and had varying shades of red while the well-worn wooden floor had been cared for over the years and shone with a golden yellow punctuated here and there by ancient black splots of machine oil. Rows of racks and bins of various kinds were everywhere filled with old military salvage and cast-offs.

Stormy and Grapes couldn’t help but play a little dress-up with helmets and the like but in the end stuck to the list and collected the items Squall had asked for in his instructions.

“Ok… We got wool socks, winter marching boots, One winter-grade overcoat decommissioned from the Yakyakistan infantry, which by the looks of it seems to indicate that they REALLY know their winter wear there.” Stormy observed looking through their collected material. “Some canadian Toques…”

“What’s a Toque, anyways?” Grapes asked.

“It’s a Ski hat, but far more polite.” Stormy deadpanned.

“... How can a knitted hat be polite? Come from Vanhoover?” Grapes asked with a touch of snark.

“Cute. Hmm… If Squall is getting this prepared, maybe I should ask mom if she has any new socks knitted for me this year.

“Your mom knits? Nice,” Grapes said, with a huge sigh. “I’ll have to see about saving up for winter clothes…”

“You live here. Don’t you have any in your closet?”

“Nothing super heavy,” Grapes said. “It’s been quite a few years since there was a serious freeze,” Grapes said with a shrug.

“We should remember to ask Squall when we get back so the others have a chance to prepare too.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Grapes said nodding, as she paid for Squall’s purchases, and folded his change into his list. “If nothing else, Barnyard Bargains does have medium quality cheap blankets… And I did manage to upgrade the heater before the inheritance ran out.”

“And if worse comes to worse you could get Firestormer to look at the furnace if it goes wonky. He’s actually a licensed furnace repairman.” Stormfront said, helping Grapes load the items into the car. “He’s got an… obsession with fire, but it’s strangely healthy rather than UNhealthy.”

“So he’s obsessed with controlling fires, rather than setting them?” Grapes asked. “That’s an interesting little factoid. I’m learning all sorts of interesting things about my tenants.”

“I know. He may look like a James Dean wannabe but he really has quite the resume. Worked at a fireworks factory, did a summer tour with a circus as an understudy of a fire-eater, youngest volunteer fireman in his hometown.” Stormy elaborated.  “Makes me wonder what the final version of him will be when he settles down.”

“More stable than most so-called adults?” Grapes quipped, as she got into the car. “As for me, a lot of my family on my father’s side are in the wine business. Dad and Mom own the premier wine shop in Canter City, stocking the family product, naturally… And on Mom’s side of the family… I have a cousin who’s a famous athlete.”

“Really? Anyone I’d recognise?”

“Only if you follow professional surfing and snowboarding. His name’s Diamond Dust but commonly goes by Dusty,” Grapes said as they traveled to Buck Merchandise. They got out, Grapes grabbing a cart then putting several baskets into it, and started shopping for the various individuals in the boarding house by going where they had items in common but keeping everything carefully separated.

She couldn’t help but smile when Stormy found the candy aisle and took a little time out to peruse the boxes of hard candy. He understandably bought only a box of lemon drops, adding it to his own basket which focused on necessities such as undergarments. He was a boxers-man, who would have guessed?

“You like lemon?” Grapes asked, an eyebrow raised, as she carefully shopped for her tenants.

“I don’t like things that are TOO sweet. Kind of distrust them, like all that sweetness must be hiding something.” He confessed as he motioned to the little yellow balls. “In fact I think I genuinely prefer my sweetness punctuated by tartness.”

“Hm. There is such a thing as something being too sweet,” Grapes said with a nod. “Can’t help but wonder if that taste for sweet leavened with tart bleeds over into other preferences. Wouldn’t affect your color choices, but maybe you have a thing for sweet and sour Chineighs food?”

“Oh yeah, There’s this great place that makes killer Sweet and Sour Chicken Balls.” He paused a moment then chuckled. “When Sirocco was first introduced to THAT dish, her first words were ‘That much have been SOME chicken.’.”

Grapes blinked then started laughing, hanging onto the shopping trolley for dear life.

“Oh great googlie mooglie,” Grapes finally managed to gasp. “She took the spherical shape of the dish literally, didn’t she, and thought they were rooster gametes?”

“Got it in one, Grapes.” Stormy chuckled along. “Now it’s a running joke among us whenever anyone orders Chicken Balls SOMEONE has to say ‘Must have been SOME chicken’. So… that’s a thing.”

“Giant rooster…” Grapes giggled, as they finished up the discount store section of their shopping. “You sound like you’ve known your friends for quite a while.”

“Five years for the majority. Earshot a little less-so but he’s cool for a kid. He’ll act like how you’d expect someone as young as him would. He’ll play games, watch movies and listen to radio, cheer on his favorite sports team, do homework and ponder the mystery that are ‘girls’. Then out of the blue something will happen and… well…” Stormy grinned and held his hands open as if indicating that he couldn't quite put it into words. “You are suddenly aware that he has a curious maturity that only emerges when he needs it most. I would love to meet his family one day, just to tell them how great a job they did raising him.”

“It would be quite a trip, I imagine. Maybe you could get a dance assignment there to pay for the trip?” Grapes observed, as they carried the bags out to the car, and put them into the trunk. “I may have to consider upgrading the ride, eventually…”

“Or you could borrow Squall’s. It’s a family sized sedan and he wouldn’t mind, after all he’s still struggling with standard transmission blues.” He chuckled and held the door open for her. “The man can captain a supercarrier but is incapable of driving a car with a clutch.”

“Funnily enough I know how because that was how I first learned to drive,” Grapes said. “Hm. Maybe Squall and I should switch rides. I’ll ask him about it when we get home.” She went over the lists again, making sure she got everything for everybody, and made sure everybody got their change. “Alright. Next stop the bait shop, and then home.”

“It’s funny… I know what he makes his food with but it comes out so tasty. I guess it’s true though, give our culture long enough and we’ll accept his food as normal, just like a lot of other stuff.” He said as he folded himself into his seat. “I mean just look at a lobster. If you never knew what one was, would you even THINK of eating something that ugly?”

“I imagine the same could be said of a lot of seafood, especially shellfish,” Grapes observed, before she was interrupted.

“HOT DOGS! The particleboard of meat!”

“That was random,” Grapes snarked deadpan.

“Sorry. It’s a song by a bunch of funny canadian singers called the Arrogant Worms. Once you hear it, it never quite leaves your head.” Stormfront paused and cleared his throat and sang the refrain “So have a hot-dog on me, my friends. It’s made from animal odds-and-ends. Have a hot-dog on me, my friends. It’s the Particleboard of meat.”

“And here I was about to go and mention oysters,” Grapes chuckled, as they went to Price Chopper from sundry groceries. “Cause come on, who would eat those once they got one open? I still ask myself that question, actually. Raw oysters… eugh…”

“I hear that stuff’s supposedly good for those with flagging libidos.” he mentioned causually. “I suppose if you had to eat that many, you’d simply try harder so you didn’t have to.”

“Heh. I can imagine. Though not recommended for anyone with a shellfish allergy,” Grapes said, as they roamed the aisles, picking up some staples. “Mmm… The basics are covered. I should have asked what everybody liked.”

Stormy held up a bag of carrots and a box of sugar cubes waggling his eyebrows.

“For our alien from a pony planet?”

“Put them back, Stormy,” Grapes sighed rolling her eyes. “Though we should explore more vegetarian options just in case. Anyway that sort of prank is more Firestormer’s style, not yours.”

“I know, but I bet you can appreciate the joke.” He said, putting the sugarcubes back and tossing the carrots into the cart. “I could make a nice vegetable soup for everyone, if you want.”

“Sounds like a good idea… Wait you cook?” Grapes asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Mom worked late a lot so I picked up the skill early.” the young man casually explained. “We started with cold-serve foods, worked up to reheatables and then proper cook and serve.”

“Huh. That’s nice. So few males seem to want to learn to cook for themselves,” Grapes mused as they continued through the store.

“When you’re a latchkey kid you either become a little more self-sufficient or become one of those who take advantage of an empty house. I just was the former than the latter.”

“I hear you,” Grapes said with a nod. “Me, I was a genius who blazed through school, and went to college at a young age. So that’s how I ended up the youngest teacher at Canterlot High.”
“I hope they start paying you. My job is less important than yours and it’s be shameful if I continue to be the one between us being paid.”

“The School Board is more than likely going to encourage Principal Celestia to keep me an intern for as long as humanly possible,” Grapes observed. “Just so they can have me there and not have to pay me.”

“You know… we could always send mister Squall over there to reason with them. And by reason I mean intimidate. And by intimidate I mean physically threaten them.” He paused a moment and smirked. “And by physically threaten I think I mean fold them up into little envelopes and mail to the hospital.”

“And that would get Squall arrested, and sent to jail,” Grapes said with a sigh.

“It depends on how intimidated they are.”

“Once they get over being intimidated, they’d want revenge,” Grapes said as she put some more staples into the cart. “And then they’d try something to pin on Squall and make him look like a loony. Nevermind his eccentricity with the piratical way of speaking.”

“Trust me. I don’t think ANYONE ever gets over being intimidated by Squall.” Stormy laughed. “When he said there are countries he’s been banned from entering, some of them involve him beating up a royal badly enough that they're scared he’ll come back to finish the job.”

“And I’d prefer to get the paid position because of my merit  and ability not because Squall strong-armed the school board into submission,” Grapes said with a sigh. “Also just because the board my recommend it, doesn’t mean Celestia would take the recommendation.”

“True enough. Still, someone should inform Celestia of that option.”

“Should I mention that to her, sometime?” Grapes asked, as they went to the checkout counter.

“She has a good sense of humor. I’m certain she would get a chuckle out of it before dismissing the possibility.”

“Of sending Squall off to intimidate the School Board and get himself blacklisted from the Educational System?” Grapes asked. “Hm. She may find that funny.”

“Ordinary people don’t think of the ‘blacklisted’ part. ...never change, Sour Grapes.”

“I’m a teacher, and want to keep in the good graces of the Educational System,” Grapes said. “So have to I think of that.”

“Still, best to remember you got that as an option.”

“Don’t see it as much of an option,” Grapes observed, as they made their way to the checkout. “I send Squall, and we both get fired.”

“Grapes… sometimes it’s okay to laugh at the obvious joke.” Stormy deadpanned. “Not everything that’s said is serious and must be picked apart.”

Grapes blinked, then shook her head, chuckling. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I have trouble with knowing when somebody’s kidding. Blame it on my lack of social interaction when I was younger.”

“Well living with a batch of clowns like the Storm Riders will do wonders for getting your sense of humor up to speed,” Stormfront said with a smile.

“A sense of humor tune up?” Grapes asked, as she started putting the groceries onto the conveyor.

“Think of it like a muscle. It needs to be exercised on occasion otherwise it atrophies,” Stormy explained

“That’s actually a very good metaphor,” Grapes observed, as she paid for the purchases, and put the bags into the cart to take them to the car.

“A lot of things like that are in the use-it or lose-it category. Humor, cursive, Spirituality.” He said making a short list before putting down a plastic divider rod between her purchases and his own. “Probably why Summer Squall is in such good shape for an old gaffer.”

“I can imagine,” Grapes chuckled. “So… Not a bad trip all in all. Saved everybody some steps, and managed to come in under everybody’s individual budgets.”

Stormy looked over the impulse-buy display and picked up a small brightly-colored water pistol and smirked.

“Indeed we did, although it’s not always easy. It’s hard not to see Earshot as a little brother. Offhand he might love something like this…” He paused a moment before putting it back. “Heck, I’d love to duel with him with a squirt-gun. I’m not about to complain about an impoverished youth. Heck, mom really did wonders for a single mother in this economy, but she was rather anti-weapon in our household, so sometimes you think you missed out on a few of the ‘shinier’ toys out there.”

“Or missed out on toys altogether by being too mature for them,” Grapes said as they reached her car, and started loading up their purchases. “Y’know, maybe I should go on shopping trips with all of you guys. Would be a neat way to get to know everybody. It was really nice having you along.”

“Grocery shopping with Firestormer is fun. He doesn’t like to show it but he is a wonder with fresh produce. Probably because all those spicy dishes he loves depends on a good knowledge of it. Earshot on the other hand… well… his other notions of edibility aside he doesn’t balk at the idea of eating black bananas or cauliflower that has some spots on it.”

“Kind of sounds like his country may use all of its fresh resources on the tourists, leaving the natives only the dregs,” Grapes observed. “After all if all you have is rotten food, you may as well develop a taste for it.”

“Just like ‘haute cuisine’ in so many locations, right?  I mean, some of the world’s most delicious foods came from a situation where someone powerful and/or rich eats all the best parts of the livestock leaving you with the offal and scrounging for things that you would have to be OH-SO hungry to even consider eating.”

“Yeah. Just like lobster, and oysters,” Grapes said as they got into the car to head home.

“Maybe we should work on a chapter for your class that links up with Home Economics. Call it ‘they got the good parts so we made ours delicious’.” Stormy teased.
“That may be a good idea,” Grapes mused. “I’ll have to find the Home Ec teacher and discuss it with them.”


“If worse comes to worse, and there isn’t one I… know a guy who can help set you up.”

“Why, mister Stormfront, are you volunteering?” Grapes asked with a smirk.

“Well, I’m no slouch in the kitchen but there’s a guy down in the east end who works in his parents’ sandwich shop who is a whiz in the kitchen. Bit of a character though, then again he’s a creative.”

“Well I’d have to meet him, see if he’d do well in an academic environment, and vett him to Principal Celestia before I tried any food related lessons,” Grapes said as they got into the car. “Also, I’d probably want to try this sandwich shop of his.”

“Oh trust me, he is as much of an artist with his sandwiches as he is with charcoal.” Stormy said strapping himself in. “After you personally have a chance to approve him, maybe the best way to see if Celestia approves is to have her come over for dinner one night and have him make something for everyone.”

“Okay. I’d still like to meet him, first,” Grapes said. “What’s one more character in the pile?”

“We have a talent for collecting oddballs and quirky personalities into our social circle. Thistledown certainly qualifies.”

“Is ‘massively snarky’ a personality quirk?” Grapes asked. “I thought it was part of my charm.”

“Nothing wrong with snark. Even Lewis Carroll felt it important enough to hunt.”

“I thought that was snipe,” Grapes quipped. “So… I guess I’m the lemon flavored friend.”

“From what I understand the best Burgundy wine is only possible with Sour Grapes”

“You’re quite the silver tongued rogue, Stormfront,” Grapes said, a light blush on her cheeks, as they pulled into the driveway of their shared home.

__________________________________________________________________

The weekend passed fairly quickly, the various tennants settling into their usual routines and the new one trying to discover her own. Sour Grapes had nearly forgotten about Stormfront’s recommendation about the ‘sandwich guy’ until Sunday, and although she would have thought the store would have been closed Stormy insisted they go down.

There nestled in between a tailor’s shop and a tavern in the east end of town was a small brick building. The upper floor looked like it was a residence but the lower floor was dedicated to an eatery which simply bore the sign “The Sandwiche Shoppe”. Grapes’ inner educator cringed at the grammatically incorrect and completely unnecessary use of an extra ‘E’ on the words to imply a quirky sense of old world charm, but shaking it off she entered. The customer area was on the small side, a long counter with a glass ‘sneeze shield’ barricaded those wishing to buy from those who wished to sell, but you could clearly see through the glass a vast assortment of fixings in small tubs recessed in a marble work counter. The whole place was clean and there was that smell, that unique smell one got only when fresh bread had been baked in a building over a period of years. This place had history, she could tell that much.

She was hardly the first person in line, but everyone waited patiently and the line progressed surprisingly quickly. She leaned a little to one side to get a better look at the young man behind the counter and her eyes widened. He was green-skinned and wore a forest green apron over his T-Shirt and jeans. Upon his head was a classic mushroom-shaped chef’s hat, hygienically hiding his hair from view. But it wasn’t his head that really caught her attention. It was his hands. She watched in awe as he deftly sliced bread open, their insides so fresh that steam rose. Then like an artist he painted sauces on, applied vegetables or meat slices in selections and quantities to said loaves until each customer seemed satisfied with the results, resulting in their order being wrapped up and rung up.

Each sandwich was unique and looked so delicious that in spite of eating before coming here, she wanted one. Even the crazy names added to their appeal.
“Order Up! Cheese Dream!”
“Order Up! Beef on Wreck!”
“Order Up! Fools Gold Loaf!”
“Order Up! Polish Boy!”
“Order Up! Turkey Devonshire”

Before she knew it she was at the counter, with him smiling at her from over the glass barricade.

“Oh, a new face! What can I do you for? A Fresh Pilgrim? A Monte Cristo? Po’ Boy? Or maybe you need a little more time to decide?”

“I vant a Prince ov Sturmhalten’s Big Bet to go, und a collaboration on a history project,” Grapes said with a grin.

“Oh ho! That’s an order I don’t get too often.” He said chuckling to himself. “And even then, usually as a follow-up to a sports game. Last one of those I had to make was for… I believe a colorful sporty girl and her cowgirl friend.”

“Ah yes. Rainbow Dash and Applejack. Have them in my afternoon history class,” Grapes said with a nod. “Now about that collaboration. History of food, especially what evolved into haught cuisine.”

“Oh really?” he inquired, leaning forwards with one elbow resting on top of the partition. “You have the attention of my inner cajun Miss…?”

“Grapes. Sour Grapes. History teacher from Canterlot High,” Grapes replied with a small smirk. “So what do you think?”

“Well, I have quite a few ideas already popping up in my head but what would my role be in all of this?”

“Well it started out as an offhand conversation about how foods evolved from being stuff that only the working class to being super exclusive foods of the well-to-do. Lobster, oysters, and a myriad of others,” Grapes explained. “Stormfront recommended you as somebody I could collaborate with on this project.”

“Stormfront!” He exclaimed. “If Stormy thinks I’m up to the task then count me in! Lovely boy, has a liking for Cubans with a side of coleslaw. If you can get me vetted by your grand poohba then I’ll make time.”

“Okay. I’ll add a cuban with a side of coleslaw to my to-go order. Just need your contact information, and I’ll float the project by Principal Celestia. May take some time to research, but I’ll be sure to let you know when the project is a go,” Grapes said with a smile. She then paused, looked behind her to see if there was a line, and moved to the side to let the queue go forth. “Hang on a sec, finish your line, and I’ll check with the rest of the merry crew if they want some foodstuffs.” With that, she pulled out her cell, and a notepad, and called the boarding house to see who all wanted a sandwich from the shop.

Grapes came up at the end of the line, waiting patiently, and then grinned, her list at the ready. “The big bet, cuban and cole slaw, tuna melt, southwestern wrap with extra jalapeno, the menage et trois… Apparently Sirocco’s been here before… A Dagwood, the trash bin, and the veggie special.”

“That’s quite an order.” Thistledown said pulling out the needed breads. “Still, you’re the boss. This won’t take long.”

“I’m ordering for my boarding house,” Grapes said with a shrug. “And I think it’s only common courtesy to bring food for the others.”

“Oh of course.” He said opening up the loaves with a well-practiced slice. Bet that ‘Big Bet’ is gonna be divvied up for dinner later in smaller portions, am I right?”

“That or for several day’s worth of lunches. How big is this Big Bet?” Grapes asked.

Thistledown Paused a moment then turning around rooted through some bins until he came back with a loaf of Pumpernickel that was more or less as wide as and as tall as a cowboy hat.

“I see. It’s kind of like a muffaletta, but with pumpernickel,” Grapes observed, thoughtfully, paused then explained:  “I have an Aunt from New Orneigh.”

“Nice. The big thing about this is that it’s as difficult for one person to eat as eating a hat. Of course it’s far more edible but still, if you need to put your money where your mouth is…”

“Well, at least I’ll have more than one day’s worth of sandwich,” Grapes said with a smile. “Anyway, how much does that all come to? Also, itemize the sandwiches on the receipt, so I can get my monies back from the tenants.”

“Oh, Let me ring you up on that. You want seperate bills then or one itemised one?”

“I was asking for itemized listing individual prices, because it’d be easier on you, because you still have customers,” Grapes said, with a smile.

“Easy Peasy Lemon Squeezie.” He said, his fingers dancing on the cash register and it spitting out a length of paper on her side. “So, will I be making sandwiches at your class or will I be able to to get some real use out of my culinary degree?”

“It would depend on the budget,” Grapes said with a sigh. “I may have to hold a fundraiser to show off the various dishes. I’m still an intern.”

“Why not just ask the kids to bring ingredients with them? If everyone brings just one, then they all are participating in some fashion.”

“I don’t know how rich my kids are, when it comes to things like oysters, and lobster, considering nowadays both are fairly expensive,” Grapes said with roll of her eyes, and stepping to the side to allow the customers behind her to place their orders.

It was surprising how he was able to process orders and keep up the conversation with her. It seemed he had a degree from a culinary academy but this was the family shop so he was the dutiful son in keeping things going. He was however immensely proud of his degree and time learning under some of the great masters. For him to tell it, it sounded like typical college life save being food-oriented, and he even belonged to the best fraternity on campus. Eye Eta Pi.

Grapes looked at him after that revelation, then facepalmed with a groan.

“Hey, chefs may have serious tempers but that doesn’t mean they don’t have a sense of humor.” he laughed.

“True. True. Anyway, I’ll let you know when thing are worked out,” Grapes said, hefting the bag of sandwiches and heading out the door.

______________________________________________________

“I’m back and brought sammitches for everybody,” Grapes said, as she entered the boarding house.

“Oh how wonderful!” Queenie said as she fiddled with the small teal-colored speaker-thing on the counter. “Earshot brought home the darndest bit of technology and we’ve all been taking turns trying to get it to work. So far all it’s done for us is be a headache, I could use a break about now.”

She gave the offending metallic box and gentle swat with her hand and music began to play. It was a infectiously bouncy little tune with your typical pop-sounding female vocal, the type with that ever so slight nasal quality that implied youth without guaranteeing it. Still… in the first two sentences you could feel the energy and sensation of ‘fun’ in the song. What was truly surprising was seeing the normal ‘proper’ Queenie starting to move to the music in a manner that used her shoulders and hips independently from one another… One would have thought she might have considered such motions as ‘immodest’ but it was inspiring to see there was life under that veneer of propriety.

“Ooh… scratch that. I’ll have my sandwich after this song.” the heiress to the Avalanche Valley company stated as she shook her groove thing.

“So Earshot found a digital radio?” Grapes asked, listening to the song, tilting her head at the chorus.

“Oh yes. If that is what this device is then he did.” Sirocco clarified, placing a jug of water on the table and enough glasses for everyone. “It’s previous owner said that it had some minor defect and he threw it aside when he got a new one today. Earshot felt that he had nothing to lose bringing it home and tinkering with it. ...Now this sounds like a fun song.”

Sirocco moved over to where Queenie was dancing and now air-singing into her hairbrush. The taller and darker-haired young woman joined her in dancing, the two making for a rather interesting sight as they moved in time to the tune. Grapes watched the duo, an amused look on her face.

“Not bad for a pair of amateurs, but then you are dancing like nobody’s watching,” Grapes quipped.

“Well it’s fun! Come on, Grapes. Dance with us.”  Queenie laughed

“Yes! Come and groove your bust, Grapes!” Sirocco added, pulling her into the uncoordinated chorus line in time for the chorus.

”I’ma do just what I want on the regular. And it’s really not my fault if you’re scared of a sweet little unforgettable thing.”

“Hmm… Something about that chorus,” Grapes observed, outdoing the others in the dance department by going into some credible hip-hop moves.

“I know. Who wouldn’t want to be unforgettably sweet?” Queenie asked as she was now apparently picking up on Grapes’ cue.

“What the…? What’s going on?” came a new voice, the three found themselves expanded to a four-girl chorus line with the bewildered addition of Sunset Shimmer. “I just came down for my lunch and next thing I know I’m sucked into an impromptu dance party.”

“Don’t ask me, these two started it. I’m just showing them how to hip hop,” Grapes said as she seemed to be showing the other ladies some basic moves. “If they’re going to dance they may as well have somebody good showing them what to do.”

“Good thing I’ve been taking dance class with your boyfriend, then.” Sunset snarked as she tried her best to match the rest of the group.

“What? You know something I don’t? He’s not my boyfriend,” Grapes quipped back. “I mean it’s more than obvious he’s got a thing for me, but I haven’t even decided if I want to ask him out or not.”

“Worried that he’s only falling for Grapes the dance partner?” She asked.

“Not exactly, but I’m not sure about dating a tenant, and fellow teacher,” Grapes observed with a sigh. “The tenant thing’s not so bad, as long as he knows I can’t hand out favors or free rent. Not sure about the fraternization rules at CHS.”

”I’ma do just what I want on the regular. And it’s really not my fault if you’re scared of a sweet little unforgettable thing.”

The four girls now had it all more or less together, dancing away to the chorus even as there was a little conversation between Grapes and Sunset.

“Good point. Better look into that one. Last thing you need is lawyers getting involved. Even in pony-world they are a pain.”

“I will remember that,” Grapes chuckled then it was as if a light went off in her brain. “... Oh. My. Ghawd… The chorus! It’s an acronym!”

“Wait… what?” Sunset asked as they eased into the final lines of the song and the finish.

”Shame Shame Shame. Shame on me. Sweet Little Unforgettable Thing.”

The four froze in the final pose, as one by one they let what Grapes had figured out settle in past the first four or five layers of gray matter until it too dawned on them. Sirocco laughed while Queenie and Sunset Shimmer found new depths of color one was capable of turning when they blushed.

“Oh… dear…” Queenie said, eyes wide.

“So… the singer turned a slur into an affirmation?” Grapes posited.

“Yeah… let’s go with that.” Sunset agreed hastily, “Better than just going with the original intent of that slur.”

“We should be thankful that we lacked an audience for this moment of clarity.” Queenie added before the enthusiastic applause started behind them.

The girls turned around enough to see the boys of the house clapping and in Firestormer’s case holding up a lit lighter, the universal indication of ‘encore’. Hopefully Earshot didn’t know what their revelation was about but still… their impromptu audience brought them both a feeling of mortification and yet humorous relief.

Grapes simply smirked, grabbed the hands of Queenie and Sunset, pulling them into the bow of a performer receiving their just due.

“Take a bow, ladies,” Grapes said with a smirk. “If they figured it out, no big. If not, hey, they got a free show.”

Queenie pulled Sirocco down into the bow with herself, Grapes and Sunset Shimmer for an appreciative bow or two before they went back to setting up the table for lunch. If anyone caught the sly meaning behind the chorus of the song, none of the males at the table brought it up. She did note that Queenie was cautiously watching Firestormer, no doubt if anyone was going to tease her mercilessly it was him. The two had a dynamic that reminded her of brother and sister. Close, supportive and yet at the same time with an adversarial streak. Nothing truly mean, but just there to show a kind of close opposition between them.

Grapes started pulling out the sandwiches and handing them to her little boarding house family.

“Cuban and cole slaw, for the regular customer. Tuna melt for Queenie. Southwestern wrap with extra jalapeno for Firestormer. The menage et trois for Sirocco, a Dagwood for Squall. Earshot, this little gem is called ‘the trash bin’ because it has a little bit of everything. Last but not least the veggie special for Sunset,” Grapes said as she handed them out, and cut a generous wedge of her own hat sized sandwich. “And this is the Big Bet, and will probably last me the week. Y’all can pay me for them later.”

“Fair enough.” Firestormer said taking a bite out of his order. “I’ll leave it in the counter jar.”
“Fantastic,” Grapes said taking a bite of hers. “Hm. No muffaletta, but it’s still good. Quick question, Sunset, are you a vegetarian, or did you adjust your eating habits to this world’s norm?”

“I… used to be more or less vegetarian but since I got here I discovered my digestive tract has… changed as much as my outward appearance. For example, I can eat a whole hamburger without any intestinal backlash.”

“Mental backlash?” Grapes asked raising an eyebrow. “Any of that, o former herbivore? How sentient were cows and sheep in your former world?”

“There was SOME moments of ‘I just ate WHAT?’ when I was getting used to things here. I mean how do we get the word ‘bacon’ from pig? ...delicious delicious bacon.” Sunset said trailing off quietly before getting back on track. “Ok. There’s a certain level of sentience to all animal life back home that doesn’t exist here. Some can even speak and discuss various topics with you… although the cows are surprisingly understandable that some carnivorous races find them quite edible. Downright zen.”

“Gotcha. So no need to assume you’ll turn your nose up at gumbo with andouille, or a muffaletta, or a wedge of my hat sized sandwich,” Grapes said. “And before you ask, I have an Aunt who’s a cajun chef in New Orneigh.”

“Really? That’s actually kinda cool.” Sunset admitted.
“I can cook cajun fairly well, not as well as Aunt Muscadine, but well enough to do her recipes justice,” Grapes said as she ate her sandwich. “Will have to fix one or two sometime. After we retire old frosty. Second question. You ready for Monday, kiddo?”

“Ready as I can ever be. I may need to make certain I have someone from Sparkle’s dream team around me at all times… just for safety.”

“Smart move. It’s not going to be easy, but you’re not alone,” Grapes said earnestly. “And I’m there if you need to talk.”

“Thanks. I’d go to the school counselor but ONE: we don’t have one yet and TWO: I’m not sure former alien supervillains are covered by your standard psychological training,” Sunset quipped with a half grin.

“And there’s another reason why I like you,” Grapes laughed. “You’re a producer of high quality snark.”

“At least I know one victim at the school doesn’t hold a grudge.” she said nodding at where Earshot was sinking his pronounced canines into his ‘Trash Bin’ sandwich with much enthusiasm. “Although I’m getting a feeling I’d have to done something a lot worse before he would even consider hating me.”

“That’s true. Earshot’s a sweetie with a big heart. I think everyone, here, falls into that category. Me too, though it comes with a side of brutal honesty and snark,” Grapes said. “Be ready early. I’m the carpool to Canterlot High, and I do have to do pre-class stuff and see where I’m needed before the day starts… Speaking of… Hey, Squall, want to switch rides?”

“Need the room, do ye?” Squall asked with a chortle. “Ah sure. Maybe a smaller car will be a little more comfortable for me to drive.”

“It’s also an automatic,” Grapes couldn’t help but quip. “So no need to remember the clutch waltz to get it to do what you want.”

“Even better. Thanks Lass. Oh, and I found someone who’s happy to help me get my Dinghy going where it needs to be.”

“I was wondering about the boat…” Sunset mused.

“That’s fantastic. The kids will love it once it’s installed,” Grapes said finishing off her sandwich. “The itemized bill for lunch is on the counter by the jar. The jar, by the way, is for donations to the general upkeep of the house, or to pay back any bits of generosity the other house members do for the others,” Grapes explained to Sunset. “It was Queenie’s idea, and I rolled with it.”

“Kind of the opposite of a Job Jar, huh? Interesting.” Sunset mused as she chewed. “I wonder if my locker will be vandalised?”

“Probably, but after the first time I’ll make sure to ask Cordington to make it graffiti proof,” Grapes said. “Anyway, you’ve had a nice weekend, settled into a new place with nicer neighbors, and made some new friends. Not bad for a former villain.”

“Yeah. Not bad.” Sunset agreed.
> Canterlot High Rumor Control Squad
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Monday.

Monday was always the day that drew the most ‘blargh’ from the population of Canterlot high. Not just the students but the teachers as well. They didn’t want to come in any more than their young charges after a nice uneventful weekend.

But then again this weekend HADN’T been uneventful.

It had involved magic, and alien visitors from other worlds, and zombified armies of teenagers and tactical nuclear rainbows… Grapes was there and even SHE had trouble sorting out what was real and what was speculation in her head.

She was wondering what was going to happen now that the fallout was settling. How were they going to explain this to the faculty, who were now all standing around the big hole in the campus grounds, their coffees in hand, staring at the part of school grounds that was no longer present. Then came a flurry of beeps as those teachers who could afford a texting plan received messages.

Uncharacteristically Grapes felt a little nervous. She had gotten a call from Celestia to come to the auditorium where an assembly of the teaching staff (Such as it was) was going to be held. Grapes, unlike a lot of her fellow teachers, did not have a texting plan. Attendance was MANDATORY, a word that Celestia never used lightly.

She came in and the front rows were peppered with the few, the proud, and those with the paperwork from an accredited institution saying they were qualified to teach. She sat next to Cranky who planted himself front row centre, no doubt irritated he had to arrive early to attend this little show. In her head Grapes did a count and noticed that there were a couple new faces as well. Celestia must have been really looking hard for teaching staff, possibly even getting people who’s teaching certificates were still trying.

Celestia walked out on stage, serious but serene as always and shuffled her papers on the podium before her.

“Thank you all for coming early. As you might have guessed, we have had a busy Fall Formal.”

“YEAH! What’s up with the hole?” Cranky called out, in his usual to-the-point manner. 

“Do you refer to the one in the landscape or the one in the side of the school?” asked Pokey Pierce, the Home Economics teacher.

“Wall, Ground, Both. Take your pick.”

“Thank you Mister Donkey, I’ll be getting to that in a moment. As you all probably have heard from one media outlet or another we had a gas leak this weekend and a student with a carelessly tossed cigarette accidentally ignited it.” She paused a moment to let this settle in before continuing. “This is a falsehood for the sake of keeping panic down.”
The teachers rumbled amongst themselves before Celestia motioned to them.

“Settle, settle. This… This is Rumor Control. I could just let you all make up whatever stories you want but seeing as the student body was all present to see the true events, it would be futile and so it is best to (as Mister Squall would say) bring you all aboard.
First off, the damage to school grounds is not the result of an accidental gas leak. We are very grateful to young Mister Scapegoat for taking the blame for the ‘cigarette tossing’ excuse because it simplifies so much for the sake of insurance and law enforcement.”

Everyone knew the student called Scapegoat. He just had a way of attracting trouble, and often got blamed for matters far out of his control. If nothing else, it would be believable he had been involved somehow. The teachers suspected some manner of compensation would be involved for this as well, most likely ‘tweaking’ in his grades. Changing a C to a B or perhaps an A minus to a solid A was not unreasonable nor unfair to other students.

“Secondly, the damage was NOT caused by any form of terrorist act, either foreign or domestic. This… is hard to say, considering the truth. And the truth is hard to believe,” Celestia said with a huge sigh.

Vice Principal Luna walked out on stage, pushing the AV cart with a television and antiquated VHS and Betamax players on it to center stage. She carried a large satchel which she carefully laid on the floor next to it and addressed the audience.

“Perhaps, sister, we should borrow an old analogy. ‘A picture is worth a thousand words’ and let them judge for themselves.” She began pulling cell phones from the bag and showed them to the audience. “As you are all no doubt too aware, this generation carry personal recording devices just about anywhere and everywhere they can, documenting their lives in excruciating detail. I borrowed these from random students present at the… event and I assure you… there is no video trickery. No computer animation or editing were involved. This is raw footage. Please hold any questions until the end.”

There was some fumbling as Luna and Celestia wired the Smartphones to the screen and got the right setting to display their memories. What the teachers were shown were the events of the dance, students enjoying a collective gathering of dance, social interaction and food… then lights flashed outside of the great gymnasium windows.
The camera shook as the wielder carried it to the main hallway, and through the glass doors a red figure with bat wings hovering far above the property could be seen. Then a heartbeat later the front of the school was not BLOWN open but ripped away and cast casually aside as if by some invisible giant’s hand. 
Grapes knew the events that followed, the zombification, the villainous monologue, the rise of the six and then… Tactical Nuclear Sunshine and Rainbows. She had to give kudos to “the cell phone operator, he kept it all going even when under the spell… then again he may have had it in his shirt pocket. It was hard to say. She glanced at the shocked and confused faces around her. She could relate, even with Desi next to her, when she was present she felt equally lost at the chain of events.

The video came to a close showing the troublemakers making a go at putting the brick facade back together while the party returned to full swing. It was here that Luna ended the video before addressing the teachers again.

“I have twelve more smartphones, each showing their own angle on the events we just saw, plus I am certain there may be dozens more among the student population. We did recommend that they do not share the videos, as our world may not be ready for the knowledge of such… magical events to be widely known.”

“An excellent point, Luna. My fellow teachers, as I said before THIS is rumor control. Against all previous understanding and logic we have an unfortunate truth to address and come to terms with. Magic is real. Alternate realities are real. Also one of our students is an alien from one of those alternate realities… and she is willing to atone for her ill-intended actions.
 All questions that you have will be answered as best we can. However, classroom rules will be in force. Raise your hand and wait to be called upon, please,” Celestia concluded with a heavy sigh. It was obvious that the revelations of the weekend weighed heavily upon the principal.

It was at this time nearly everyone present raised their hands. Many questions were expected. Who did this? How long did they walk among us? What did they want? Will this happen again. Celestia did her best to respond with prepared questions, but when the questions became a little much for her she called up the other grown-up witnesses to the event to help.
Grapes was glad that Desi and Squall were there to add credence. She wasn’t fond of public speaking off the cuff like this. Squall did his best to inform everyone that he had indeed seen stranger things and that this was not the time to panic. Desi had a PowerPoint presentation all set to explain the phenomena to the masses, but thank mercy was convinced by Principal Celestia to keep his enthusiasm to bullet points, especially around the possibilities of any lingering “magic fallout”. Grapes did her own best to appeal to the human aspect of the matter, that no one was injured beyond bruises and that with her nature and all of her machinations exposed Sunset Shimmer was no longer a threat and hopefully with support and nurturing would be salvageable.

“I’ve already sort of ‘taken her into custody’ so to speak, and got her away from Jester Street. Too much mischief going on over there for my liking,” Grapes said. “And she has a whole  house-full of good influences, along with the five girls from last night. Be prepared for Sunset to receive a… less than stellar reception from the rest of the student body upon her return, however. School children, no matter what the age, have the option to be rather cruel and more often than not take it.”

“I realize that we are all a little overworked right now, but Sunset Shimmer may need protection at times.” Celestia added with her classic serious tone. “I am by no means suggesting we… we…” 

“...Mollycoddle her?” Squall recommended. 

“Mollycoddle! YES! Exactly. We do not have to mollycoddle her. However should the students try to make a point of getting even we should discourage them. We must remind them that we, as a whole, are better than that.”

Leave it to Squall and his impressive vocabulary to find just the right word to get across the point. Even if one had never heard the antiquated term, Mollycoddle before the very sound of it spoke volumes, though there were some confused looks.

“‘Mollycoddle’ is an antiquated term meaning to spoil or indulge someone,” Grapes explained. “In other words, we’re treating her like someone who did a wrong, and is doing their time, but are giving her a chance to do better.”

The Homeroom bell rang and all the teachers began to stand, before Luna called out to them.

“Fellow Faculty Members! Before you get to your day’s tasks, we ask that you confirm that you understand the unofficial official school policy on this matter.”

There were low tones of agreement. After all magic would be hard to explain to the superintendent, and even though she was a bully before, Sunset should not be allowed to become the target of retribution. The almost grumbling tone of the teachers seemed to satisfy the two sisters who nodded to one another before Celestia spoke.

“Wonderful. This off-the-record meeting is hereby adjourned. Let’s hope the meeting with the insurance representatives goes as smoothly.”

“Have fun storming the castle,” Grapes called to the principal sisters, as she headed out.

“It will take a miracle.” Celestia muttered.

“I find your lack of faith most disturbing,” Luna replied to her sister. 

“Wrong movie, Luna,” Celestia said with a sigh.

“Movie?”

“You weren’t quoting Darth Vader, just now?” Celestia asked.

“Who is Darth Vader? It sounds Germanic… or Dutch… similar to the words they would use for ‘Dark... Father’?”

“Oh. Right. Boarding school. Next weekend, we’re having a movie night, dear sister,” Celestia asserted.

“Oh Glorious! Then next weekend I shall pop some popping corn! My treat!”

“Going to be fun introducing you to pop culture,” Celestia giggled, as they walked out of the auditorium. “At least we have something to look forward to after the insurance slog.”

And with that, the school went back to… well… relative normalcy.