I Can Explain
Boom!
The throne room doors burst open, and in jogged Spike, both out of breath and with a body wicked with sweat. Indeed, he looked as if it was the hardest he had ever run in his life—mad kings, fearsome dragons, herculean beasts, and weekly catastrophes notwithstanding. There was nothing like hearing a blood-curdling scream to get the adrenaline pumping.
“Twilight! Don't worry! I'm here!” he shouted as he ran in, very nearly tripping over his own feet. He came skidding to a stop and clutched his knees, keeping himself from falling over as his chest heaved haggardly, desperate to catch his breath. Several moments of intense breathing later, he looked up, and his eyes opened in surprise.
There, with a stern, authoritative posture sat Twilight, as unscathed as ever. She sat at the other end of the map table, with both of her forehooves resting atop its polished surface. The look she gave him looked thrice-sharpened, and raring to slice into the soul of any who dared stare back at her.
"Twilight?" Spike wiped his forehead as he stood up. "You look...not...hurt."
The air seemed to quake as Twilight's expression deepened. He stood there for a long time, tapping his toes, twiddling his fingers, and generally doing anything he could to avoid having to carry whatever semblance of a conversation remained on his own.
After several long, awkward moments, her look softened, and with a groan, she relented. The purple glow of her magic encompassed a scroll on the table before she levitated it into the air, and left it hovering next to her face.
"Explain yourself, Spike."
Spike swallowed the apprehensive lump in his throat. "I-I thought you were in trouble, Twilight, or worse! I came as quick as I could!"
Twilight let out a frustrated sigh.
"If there's anyone in trouble here, it's you."
The scroll quickly zipped to where Spike was standing, smacking him in the face in the process. With a worried frown, he took it, and began unravelling it. "What's this?" he asked as he worked.
"I'd think you, out of everyone, should know that."
Spike wasn't sure of what to make of that response. He spread the scroll from claw tip to claw tip and quickly skimmed the text from top to bottom.
"Dear Spike, we cordially invite you—yadda yadda—oh!" he exclaimed, a grin curling his lips. He turned back to Twilight. "It's just my invitation to the Fisting Festival! I was wondering where I left this."
Twilight looked as if she was about to vomit as shock, horror, and confusion all battled it out to express themselves on her face—if she didn’t just simply burst into flames outright. "It's just an invitation?" Spike nodded, his garish excitement remaining despite how bewildered his companion looked. "To this...Fisting Festival?!" she cried.
Spike continued reading aloud. "'We'd be delighted to have you attending this year's festival, to be held, for the first time, at a new location: the Ponyville town park, open to all ages'." Twilight visibly gagged, but Spike continued, not noticing in the slightest. "'Invite your friends and family to this special annual event to show them the joys of sticking it into new and exciting places where the sun doesn't shine with this year's rendition of Squealer's Row. Don't miss out on what's sure to be the best, most exciting festival in all of Equestria.'"
Twilight clutched a hoof at her neck, hoping this morning's toast and tea wouldn't come out the wrong way. "Spike," she swallowed, taking a deep breath. Then she blinked, exhaling with a long and wistful smile on her face. "That's got to be some kind of prank letter, right? A joke?"
"Nope!" He held the scroll outward, tapping a claw against its surface for emphasis. "No pranks here. I've never turned down an invitation to the festival, nor will I ever. They've sent me one every year. Three years and counting!"
She leaned back, clapped her forehooves together, and closed her eyes. There was a long moment where she simply focused on breathing, seemingly unable to speak.
"Spike," she finally started, opening her eyes, and slapping on her most convincing, plastic smile. The little dragon looked at her as if he had done nothing wrong. To a somewhat cruel and innocent extent, he was correct. "What do you even do at this festival?"
"We have the time of our lives, is what we do! Oh, Twilight, you should see it! There's Squealer's Row of course, then the Pounder, the Masher, the Chunker, just to name a few, and the food." Spike shivered, a thin veneer of drool moistening his lips. "So much food you could eat yourself into a coma."
"Mental note, give my brain a good scrubbing later… “ she said in a whisper. Spike was too excited to pay any attention. “Okay, Spike,” Twilight continued, “given its name, who usually attends these festivals?"
"Lots of people. We even had a few ponies show up each year, aside from the ponies who took part in the attractions. This one guy I know, Gronk—he's a dragon—got so carried away one time he sent one of them to the hospital. She couldn't walk straight for a month, but they made up later. Isn't it cool knowing they're coming all the way out here this year? There'll be ponies everywhere this time!"
Twilight’s head fell hard against the table, a loud crack echoing out into the room.
"Spike." She groaned in pain. "I think it's time we had a talk."
"A talk?" Spike replied, raising an eyebrow. The two of them have had many "talks" in the past about some of life's more sensitive subjects, but he fondly remembered hating most of them. Twilight could never keep things short and sweet like that. "About what?"
"I don't think you should attend this festival."
"Huh? Why not?"
"I think it's inappropriate for someone your age, to say the least."
He gave her a flat look, crossing his arms. "For my age, huh? Twilight, I'm not a baby anymore. I'm definitely grown-up enough to go to these things on my own. You know that."
"But that isn't—"
Spike held out a hand, palm facing her, and gave one of his claws a quick wag. "Nonono, you don't need to twist your words around like that. I understand. You're worried about me."
"Putting it lightly..." She softly chided through clenched, smiling teeth.
"I love you, Twilight, but part of growing up is giving me the space to grow and make my own decisions. Besides, I'll be fine. I've been attending the festival three years running. I mean, what else did you think I was doing in the Dragon lands last year?”
“Hey, why don't you come with me this year?" Spike said. "Then I'll prove you really have nothing to worry about."
Twilight opened her mouth, then closed it, again and again, perpetually teetering on the edge of rash action. The lights in her eyes flickered like an old lightbulb, her brain power-cycling after a long moment. Eventually she just sighed and looked away.
"Something wrong, Twilight?"
"...no." said Twilight meekly, turning away, wings slumped downward. "I think I'll stay here—lots to do, books to read, you know."
Spike shrugged. "Oh. Well, suit yourself. I'm gonna go get ready for the festival. Let me know if you change your mind. It starts tonight at sundown, so act fast!"
With that, he turned and strolled out of the room, as oblivious to Twilight's inner turmoil as a deaf squirrel to an oncoming carriage.
Twilight's blood froze. She waited until he had left the room, and listened to his tiny footsteps as they echoed faintly down the halls.
Then, she bolted from her seat, whirling through the foyer and crashing through the castle doors at blistering, hurricane speeds. She tore through the sky, frantically flying over the town, en route to one of the few ponies whom she hoped would talk some sense into him, and perhaps convince her this was all just some lucid nightmare.
"Talk some sense into him?" said Rarity while she diligently pulled a threaded needle through one of her most recent garments. "Whatever for, dear?"
"Spike is in deep trouble, Rarity," said Twilight, waving her hooves frantically. "I'm afraid that after tonight, we may never see him again, or, if we do, he'll never be the same!"
"Calm yourself, Twilight." Rarity leaned over and rested a gentle hoof on her shoulder, leaving her magic to continue working in her stead. "What could possibly be happening tonight that would entail that we never see him again?"
"I've told you already, haven't I?" asked Twilight, staring at her.
"No? You knocked on my door, teleported yourself inside, and until now have been babbling uncontrollably. Honestly, I’d assumed it was world ending, but you might as well have been speaking another language." Twilight nodded glumly. "So tell me, what has our little Spikey gotten himself into this time?"
Twilight leaned next to Rarity and whispered into her ear.
Rarity tensed.
Her needle softly plinked onto the floor.
"Is this true?" murmured Rarity, breathless.
Twilight nodded again. "Every word of it. The 'attractions' sending ponies to the hospital—sweet Celestia, I can't even fathom what that must have felt like."
Both mares shifted uncomfortably in place.
"Twilight, that sounds so—" Rarity paused mid-sentence, very nearly choking on her last few words. Twilight glared at her; she must have caught the faint excitement fringing the unicorn's voice. "A-Absolutely abhorrent! Yes, that! Completely and utterly disgraceful. Spike is far too young to be experiencing something like that. We must go at once and confront him about this."
Rarity turned and cantered towards her front door. She opened it and motioned for Twilight to follow her. "Come, Twilight. We haven't a moment to lose. I just remembered I've something important to attend to later this evening, so it's best we march up to him and get this clear and out of the way as fast as possible."
The door closed behind them as the two of them stepped out onto the streets of Ponyville.
"Hmm...but..." Rarity said quietly, looking to Twilight. "I'm a little afraid that the two of us wouldn't be enough. It will take more than just the two of us to convince him, let alone comfort him in the aftermath. We need somepony who is well versed in such depraved matters, but who do we know that could—"
They both stopped, turning to face each other. With a knowing grin, they nodded, and began galloping towards the edge of town.
"Twilight, how could you!" Fluttershy loudly whispered, gesturing as more and more animals began to convene in the living room as her guests' word choice grew more eccentric. "Watch your language, please."
Twilight rolled her eyes. "Fluttershy, they're animals. Their entire lives revolve around three things: eating, sleeping, and ‘multiplying’. Seriously, have you ever considered what Angel is doing when he's not around? He's likely getting frisky with that rabbit troupe you keep in your backyard. Besides, there's no time for subtlety here! Sundown is only an hour away!"
The pegasus sighed, her ears flattening. She had long since accepted that mating was arguably the most casual activity among her animal friends. To this day she had yet to find a therapist good enough to help her forget what a non stop, all animal orgy sounded like, or looked like.
"But why do you need my help?" asked Fluttershy. "Rarity has more experience than either of us."
"Darling, you're the most sexually repressed pony in Ponyville," stated Rarity. "I doubt it's a secret between any of us and our friends that you've likely invested in a pornography collection so large you're probably subsidizing the industry. Something as quaint as 'fisting' would be well below the grade of material you're most interested in, and you'd know how dangerous it can be, especially for someone as small as Spike. Now, will you help us or not?"
"I suppose," Fluttershy answered, submitting less out of defeat and more out of necessity. Spike was her friend too. "But the poor dear will probably be traumatized after we tell him. I know it isn't much, but maybe we should pay a visit to Pinkie Pie and get some sweets for him. That should help calm him down for...the rest of his life, hopefully."
A jingling door bell announced the trio's arrival at Sugar Cube Corner. The place was packed to the gills with hungry patrons, slurping smoothies and munching muffins as conversations floated above the dining area floor. Pinkie Pie leapt from the kitchen doorway, and waved to them with a cheerful grin.
"Hi, girls!" she exclaimed gleefully as they crossed the floor toward the counter. "What brings you here?"
"Sweets," replied Twilight. "And lots of them."
"Ooo~!" Pinkie brightly crowed, hovering a hoof over the buttons on the register. "What's the occasion?"
"No occasion this time, darling," said Rarity, stepping next to Twilight. "And it's vital that we get them as soon as possible."
"Oh. I hate to break it to 'ya, girls, but we're a little low on everything." Pinkie gestured back towards the kitchen. "The Cakes are working their flanks off right now trying to fill orders. Sorry, but I don't think I can spare a lot of stuff right now."
"We'll take whatever you can give us, Pinkie. We're kind of in a hurry," added Fluttershy. “I’ve got something important later, so whatever you can do will be appreciated.”
"Well, if you say so," said Pinkie, stepping away from the register. It took her a minute to gather a sizable order of pastries and candy from their dwindling shelves, but before long she had a nice, neat pile laid out on the counter. "Can you at least tell me what they're for? There's no way only the three of you could eat all of that by themselves." Pinkie suddenly gasped, smiling. "Oh! Is it an eating contest? I'm super good at those!"
Twilight glanced over her shoulder, and spoke only when she knew her voice was out of earshot. "Can you keep a secret, Pinkie? It's about Spike."
Pinkie nodded, leaning in. "You know me!"
Twilight let it slip.
Pinkie went wide-eyed.
"Huh?" said Pinkie, baffled. "That's it?"
"Shh!" Twilight hissed. "Pinkie!"
"Twilight, there's nothing wrong with that!" Pinkie rolled her eyes, giggling. "I'm sure lots of ponies love a good fisting now and then!"
Most of Sugarcube Corner went quiet. The ponies that had heard all turned their attention towards the counter. Twilight felt their piercing stares on the back of her neck, realizing that while Pinkie was good at keeping secrets she wasn't so good at keeping quiet.
She heard a chair slide across the floor from somewhere in the room, then the soft clacking of hooves on the approach.
"What's this about a fisting?" asked the voice of Rainbow Dash. The four of them turned. Rainbow Dash beamed. "Whoa! I never knew you girls were into that kind of stuff too!"
Together, Twilight, Rarity, Fluttershy, and Rainbow Dash all hurried back to the castle. Pinkie Pie had no choice but to stay behind, yet she still made a promise to visit them later when she got off of work. Fearfully, Twilight watched as the sky slowly darkened, delving from a vibrant blue into a warm orange. They picked up the pace, and practically tore the castle doors off in their hurry. They all scampered inside, with Twilight shouting commands that echoed through the foyer.
"Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy, search upstairs! Rarity, you and I will check every room downstairs!"
With affirmative nods, they frantically went about their search, practically ripping the castle apart as they searched for the baby dragon. They called out to him again and again, but received no reply. When the castle innards were thoroughly turned upside down and inside out, they all reconvened back in the foyer.
"He's not here!" shouted Rarity.
"Not upstairs either." said Rainbow Dash.
"He must have left already!" exclaimed Twilight. "We might not be too late! If we're fast enough, hopefully we can catch him before he gets there!"
“Spikey Wikey! We must protect his innocence!” Rarity cried as they turned.
They promptly zoomed out of the castle and back out into Ponyville, stampeding through the streets just as the first glimpses of a starry night crested the horizon behind them. They called out his name, and again received no answers. Up ahead was the park, brightly illuminated with floodlights. Colorful tents and decorations crowded the park, innocent enough to hide the festival's insidious and lewd agenda. A long line had already formed at the entrance, and they had yet to find their misguided little friend.
"We're too late..." murmured Twilight, feeling her heart drop. Crushed, she fell onto her haunches, her entire body deflating. "He's a goner now..."
Rarity stepped up to her and rubbed a comforting hoof along her back. "I'm sorry, dear, but all is not lost." Twilight looked up to her, teary-eyed. The rest of her friends were quick to join in.
"We can still go inside and get him, bring him back home. Our efforts will not be in vain. He's older than the Spike we first came to know, but I'm sure he'll come to understand."
Footsteps crinkled the soft grass behind them. Startled, they all turned, and gasped.
"Understand what?" asked Spike. He stood there, eyebrow raised, sipping from a cup shaped peculiarly like a clenched fist. Immediately, the girls tackled him to the ground in one big group hug.
"Spike! Thank goodness!" shouted Twilight. "They didn't hurt you in there, did they? Did they do anything to you? Please, tell us!"
"Twilight, Twilight!" Spike shouted back. "I haven't even went in yet!"
"Good!" chirped Rarity. "We need to get you home right away. You do not need to be exposed to such grizzly and unbecoming sights!"
"We were so worried." Fluttershy piped up.
"Really, Spike?" chided Rainbow Dash, crossing her forelegs. "I'm into some pretty weird stuff too, but—"
"I don't care how old you are, Spike," Twilight interrupted. "But this festival isn't for you. When I get my hooves on Mayor Mare for allowing this..." she murmured, growling.
"What are you talking about, Twilight?" asked Spike, bewildered. Then, approaching them from the distance, came a face he could recognize from miles away. "Hey, Gronk!" He shouted, managing to wrangle one of his hands out of the clutter and wave it to him.
"Spike!" Gronk's boisterous, booming voice shouted back, each of his mighty footsteps shaking the ground.
The girls broke free from the hug, marvelling at the sight of him. An unusual sight in Ponyville; a dragon, as tall as ten ponies, and built like a ton of bricks. His body said "I'm going to pop your head like a cherry", but his face said "I'm going to hug you until you suffocate slowly." He stood in front of them and held out one fist. He was holding something, but he was too tall for any of them to see what it was. When he unclenched his fist, a rain of candy began to trickle from between his fingertips.
"Look at all the loot I got from Squealer's Row!”
"Woo-hoo!" Spike celebrated. "All right, Gronk! Gimme' some!"
The two of them shared a titanically awesome fist bump.
Twilight sat grumpily, hunched over the picnic table while her indignation and frustration seethed in her gut.
The rest of the gang had gone home, and were all equally as angry for having wasted so much time and effort; Fluttershy especially. She was promised something wonderful and the world told her to go buck herself, which she likely did the moment she returned home, doomed to live another unfulfilling night beneath a roof crooning with the groans of raunchy animal sex.
Her eyes flicked to the left. There was Squealer's Row: a stylized, reach-in-and-pull-out-a-prize sort of area. She watched as a young mare reached her hoof deep into a curtained box, dug around a little, pulled out a large stuffed teddy bear and, promptly, squealed.
Her eyes flicked to the right. The Pounder? The Masher? The Chunker?
A boxing game, a whack-a-mole game, and a pin game.
Carnival games.
Twilight was livid.
Spike waltzed over to where she was sitting, carrying a hand-shaped ice pop in each fist. He leapt onto the seat next to her, offering one to her.
"Want one?"
Twilight refused to acknowledge him.
Spike shrugged. He began licking one of the ice pops.
After a minute, Twilight relented. "I still don't understand, Spike."
"Yeah?"
"Why is it called the 'Fisting Festival' when everypony here doesn't even have hands?"
"That's kind of an interesting story," Spike replied. "The festival used to be held every year in Baltimare, a big city—bigger than Manehatten even—because it was where dragons who migrated from the Dragon Lands, griffons who moved from Griffonstone, and all sorts of people lived. They had hands, the attractions were hand-based, y'know, hence the name. Kind of a stretch really, but hey, it kinda worked. I think the guy who started it all had some weird obsession with gloves and carnival games. Anyway, I guess the organizers decided to host it further inland this year. Y'know, branching out."
"Gryphons and dragons attending a festival with ponies? I don't believe you."
Again, Spike shrugged. "Every city has it's weird side."
"But really—Fisting Festival? Surely somepony saw the connotations of using that name?"
Spike raised an eyebrow. "Huh? What do you...oh!" He chuckled. "You mean like sex?"
Twilight gasped. "Spike!"
"What? Wait, don't tell me that's what you thought this was about all along. Like, really? There are kids here! C'mon, that's just wrong, Twilight.” Spike snorted. “Maybe you’re the one that needs to grow up.”
A purple wing whacked Spike on the back on the head.
“Hey!”
Twilight rolled her eyes and smiled as she stood up. “Let’s go Spike, I wanted to play ‘Fisto’ with you.”
Even Spike could help it as the pair of them broke down into a fit of laughter.