Twilight has a problem, not that she'll admit it. Spike has a solution, not that she'll listen.
Twilight has a problem, not that she'll admit it. Spike has a solution, not that she'll listen. Written for the Comedy (Is Serious Business) contest. Art by: Dilarus
Sitting neck deep in scrollwork, Spike peeked his head up. The dark circles around his eyes creased as he blinked, slowly looking toward the exit of the library.
Knock knock!
“Spike! There’s somepony at the door!” Twilight’s voice called out, magically piped in from somewhere in the castle.
With a low grumble, he removed himself from the pile of paperwork, moving toward the front door as he yawned. “You know…” he called out, “…some ponies can teleport, and don’t have short stubby legs in this enormous castle.”
“But I need to know what caused the initial collapse of the ancient pony governments in Saddle Arabia!”
With a snort, Spike walked down the long, crystal hallways, the knocking on the castle door growing ever more insistent.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m coming already!” Spike reached up and pulled back on the ornate door to reveal a goofy-eyed grey mare with a quirky smile. “Oh, heya, Derpy.” Spike watched as the mailmare opened her bag with a hoof, and then extracted a rather hefty package from inside.
As the full weight of the item fell onto her hoof, she nearly flopped over, a surprised squeak escaping her mouth.
With wide eyes, Spike reached up and caught the package, as well as helping to steady the whimsical wall-eyed mare. “Gotcha, Derpy.” There was an exchange of laughter and goofy grins. “What’s in the box?”
Derpy shrugged, using her mouth to pull out a small clipboard with a charcoal pen attached by a string. “I dunno, but ish heavy.”
“Heh, yeah.” Spike scanned the clipboard, then eyed the addressee printed at the top. “AnonymousAlicorn123… Really, Twilight?” His eyes drifted lower, widening at the bill. “That’s a lot of bits, Derpy. You sure that’s right?”
Derpy took the clipboard back into her hooves and looked it over, eyeing it carefully. “Ayyeppers! That’s one expensive book.”
As Spike rubbed the bridge of his nose with a claw, he thanked Derpy, then moved back inside. Taking a deep breath, he yelled into the wide hallway, “Twilight! I’ve got your book!”
There was a flash of purple, a rustle of feathers, and just like that, the book was gone. Spike stared at his empty claws in annoyance before proceeding into the council room. The table map sat there, absent of any quests for the moment, paying Spike no mind as he walked around to Twilight’s chair.
Staring up at the star that represented his sister’s cutie mark, a slow smirk crossed his face as he drew in a breath. With precision and purpose, a small stream of fire fed into the star, slowly heating it to a bright red. After a long moment, Spike turned and sat in the chair.
“Three… two… one…”
“Yiiipe!” A flash of purple once again heralded the arrival of the great Princess of Friendship herself. She landed with a splat atop the table, her hoof rubbing across her flashing cutie mark. “Spike! That’s not funny!”
With a slight chuckle, Spike reached behind the chair he sat on, his claw finding the edge of the bucket he’d put there after this happened last time.
“We’re going to have a long talk when—”
Spike splashed her with the lukewarm water, her cutie mark letting off a little hiss of steam as a result.
“Yeah, we do need to talk.” Spike glared at Twilight, moving from the chair before spinning and demanding, “Sit!”
“You can’t treat me like I’m a dog, Spike.” Twilight preened herself, glaring at Spike.
“I’ve already done my time, Twilight. Now it’s your turn. Now sit!”
She gave him an angry glare, but did as she was told.
“Now…” Spike breathed a little fire into his claws, a long scroll manifesting into existence. “With this latest purchase, you’ve put us into the hole…” His eyes flicked up and down the parchment before answering, “…nearly five-hundred-thousand bits… and some change.”
Twilight’s mouth fell open, a moment passing before she started, “There’s no w—”
“101 Ways to Re-organize Your Library, five hundred bits,” Spike interrupted, his claw going down the list. “The Encyclopedic Guide to Encyclopedias, sixteen-thousand bits...”
Twilight wilted under his gaze. “I don’t see what the pro—”
“Fascinating Facts on the Paleopony Periodand Why It Shouldn’t Be Named After Stone, first edition, seventy-thousand bits.”
Twilight stuck out her bottom lip. “But I loved that one. Spike, are you telling me to stop reading?”
Spike shook his head vigorously. “No, Twilight. You just have to stop buying all these expensive books.”
“But… but…” Twilight stomped on the throne, then her lips curled into a smile. “Don’t worry, Spike, I’ve got it all under control.”
“No, you don’t.” Spike narrowed his eyes. “You’ve got a serious addiction, Twilight.”
“I don’t have a problem!” Twilight nearly shouted. “I can stop anytime I want!” She jumped off the chair, wings flapping as she left the room. “I just need more bits. I know, I’ll ask Celestia!”
“I won’t send that letter!” Spike began running after her, but she was out of sight almost instantly.
“I can teleport, remember?” she mocked, her echo compounding the effect.
“Faust help us all.” Spike wandered back into the library, setting aside the list of expensive egghead material as he looked over the mess once more.
A few minutes later, there was a yawn and the sound of hooves stepping inside.
“Hey, Spike. What’s with all the yelling?”
Spike looked over his shoulder briefly before returning to his work. “Hey, Starlight. It’s nothing really, just Twilight’s eccentric book collection finally catching up to us.”
Starlight laughed as she stepped close enough to look over Spike’s shoulder. “What’s all this?” Her eyes widened as she read some of the figures listed.
“Castle checkbook.” He pointed at varying lists. “We only get income from what Celestia allots us, as well as the occasional donation. We just don’t have the bits to cover this extreme learning binge she’s been on since last month.”
Starlight whistled as she read the last figure. “I didn’t know you were this good at math.”
Spike gave a good-natured chuckle. “Growing up with Twilight did have some advantages, you know.”
“But this…” Starlight held up the paper. “Pretty sure this isn’t math anymore. These prices are astronomical.”
Spike blinked slowly, looking at her with a raised eyebrow. “I give it a four out of ten.”
“Ugh.” Starlight manifested her own list and quill. “Marking ‘attempt at humor’ off the friendship checklist.”
“I appreciate the effort, though. I just wish Twilight could skip the manic phase before the crash, you know?”
“Is it always the same?” Starlight’s eyebrows furrowed. “How often does this happen?”
Spike shrugged. “Oh, at least once every month or so. Not so much lately, but still…”
“Speaking of the Princess of Villain Reform, where is Twilight?”
Spike almost choked as he glanced towards the library exit. “Jeez, Starlight, you were holding out on me.” Starlight’s cheeks tinted red as she smiled, rubbing a hoof through her mane. “Anyway,” Spike continued, “Twilight’s trying to bum some more money from Princess Celestia. I doubt she’ll get any, but we’ll find out pretty so—”
A flash later, and a miserable Twilight was grumbling at their hooves.
“Celestia told me to get a job!” Twilight cried. “That tea-drinking, cake-shoveling, feather-brained, overblown flashlight!”
Starlight gasped, her hoof going to her mouth. Spike, however, was the first to speak.
“Wow, Twilight. You really need help.”
Twilight stomped her hoof, opened her mouth to retort, and then stopped short. “You’re actually right, Spike.” She touched a hoof to her chin. “Who could I ask?”
A surprised smile spread across Spike’s face. “Well, honestly, probably Applejack, or maybe Rarity could suggest—”
Twilight snorted, before falling into a maddening giggle. “Of course you would say Rarity.” A goofy little grin crept across Twilight’s face. “And you think I’m the one with the problem? That tale is beyond you, Spike.”
Spike sputtered as Starlight’s eyes widened. “Wow, Twilight. That’s harsh. You sure you’re okay?”
There was a twitch in Twilight’s right eye as she nodded furiously. “Totally fine!” Then she blinked. “Actually, Rarity might just be the pony to talk to. Great idea, Starlight!” Then Twilight flapped her wings, flying upside-down as she exited the castle.
“What in Equestria is wrong with that mare?” Starlight nudged Spike with a hoof as his eyes came back into focus.
Spike snorted, grabbing a few scrolls as he spoke. “She’s already going through withdrawal.” Spike turned and started off after Twilight at a brisk pace. “She’s just not herself when she’s hungry for knowledge.”
Starlight trotted next to him, her brow furrowed. “There has to be more to it than that, Spike. I’ve never seen her this bad.”
Nodding solemnly, Spike answered, “She’s also repressing the fact that she’s spent more bits on books in the past month that honestly, we could have repaired the town hall five times over already.”
“Great, soooo now what?”
“Now we hope Rarity can talk some sense into her. Otherwise, there’s no telling how bad this will get.”
“No.” Spike stood at the opening to Carousel Boutique, his mouth hanging open.
“No?” Starlight asked, trotting up behind him as she peered inside.
Inside the shop, Rarity tossed fabric this way and that, all while her horn magically held a busy quill against a white canvas. Stacks of books lay sprawled around her, many lying open on the floor as she stepped over them.
“Where’s Twilight?” Spike asked, staying just outside the chaos of Rarity’s inspirational disaster. Starlight followed closely, also wisely keeping her distance from Rarity’s zone of artistic expression.
“Oh, hello, darlings.” Rarity spun around, an elegant dress coming to life before their eyes. “Twilight has her head buried in books again—quite literally this time, I might add.”
“What?” Spike started, but stopped at what he witnessed next. A paper-thin figure stood up from an open issue of Cosmare, only to jump through the air into a heavyset book titled Fashioning a Profit from Fashion. Spike ran to the book, watching as Twilight dove through the pages at a manic pace. “Get back out here!”
“What’s the matter, Spikey-Wikey?” Rarity stopped for only a moment to smile, Spike’s cheeks heating up as if he were preparing to send a letter. “Twilight has finally expressed her interest in fashion, especially the business side.” There was another quick scratch against paper as Rarity smiled. “So I finally get to draw up some more designs for her to model. It’s been quite a while since the Princess Dress incident after all.”
Spike only seemed to half-listen as he flipped through the pages of the hefty fashion book, searching for the literal alicorn.
“Twilight needs our help, Rarity.” Starlight frowned as Spike finally spotted Twilight, trying to grab her with his claws. Of course, that did nothing but make Twilight scurry, hopping to a recent magazine about the new fashions of Trottingham. “She’s gone mad with knowledge.”
Rarity watched Spike chase the bookhorse from one piece of literature to another. After a few minutes, he was panting, following Twilight as she jumped into Hooficures and Why You Need One.
“Are you really asking me to tell Twilight to stop reading?” Rarity raised an eyebrow. “I’d have an easier time getting Sweetie Belle to shave her mane.”
“Starlight,” Spike huffed, “I need your fanfic.”
Starlight’s eyes widened. “What?” She blinked, then blinked again. “How… what?”
“Look, I’ve already read it… and yeah, it needs an editor. Just give it to me.” Spike waved his claws frantically as he slowly approached the last book Twilight had entered.
Sighing, Starlight called upon her magic, summoning a book adorned with a purple six-pointed star. “We’re going to have a chat about this later, Spike. You don’t just go through other ponies’ things.”
“Yeah, yeah, and you don’t watch purple princesses in their sleep. I got it.” Spike replied as she floated the book over to him. It dropped atop his head with a thud, Spike chuckling as he watched Starlight blush hotly.
Spike slid the heavy book Twilight was currently engrossed in, Thread counts and Bit Counts, off the counter before walking away from any other potential literary havens. Holding the two books apart, he gave a little whistle.
“Here, Twilight. I’ve got another book for you.” He waved Starlight’s most treasured possession tauntingly as he opened the book on fashion advice. “And there’s only one in all of Equestria!”
Pages flipped as Twilight spotted the tasty treat, diving for the lavender book like a dog after a stick. Spike opened to about the middle, shutting it as Twilight jumped in, a dark grin spreading across his face.
“Spike!” Starlight wilted as she stared at the dragon. “Twilight can’t read that. She’ll…”
For a second, a shadow passed over Spike’s face. “She’ll live… probably.” He glanced down at the deadly writing, squinting at the cover. “Really, Starlight? For the Love of Stargazing?” Spike tapped his nose with a claw, just before a muffled scream began to fill the room.
“Ahhhhhhh!” It was the only warning they got as Twilight magically ejected herself from Starlight’s romcom. Purple wings spiraled as she flew across the room, crashing into Rarity and knocking over the canvas she’d been working with.
As piles of books slid to the floor, Twilight poked her head out and glared at Spike. “That… that was cruel, Spike. There’s—” Twilight shivered before she continued, “—some things you can’t unsee.” Her gaze shifted to Starlight, and their eyes met. “Sparkling flanks of steel, really?”
Poor Starlight turned an even deeper shade of purple than Twilight.
There was a groan as Rarity sat up, quills and paper shifting as she held her head with a hoof. “Twilight, dear, I know you like to tackle problems head-on, but really, that was a bit much.”
“Rarity, oh, I’m sorry.” Twilight levitated everything back into place, helping Rarity up gingerly with a hoof.
The poor white unicorn looked rather frazzled, her normally pristine coat now matted and dingy.
“Oh, let me get that.” Twilight pointed her horn at Rarity, and before Rarity could protest, cast a gentle lavender glow over the ruffled unicorn.
Spike watched as Rarity’s mane detangled, her tail rearranged itself, and finally her chest floof whitened, and then become even floofier. Spike’s jaw dropped as the fabulous mare that held his heart became even more fabulous.
Rarity turned, looking at one of the many mirrors that could be found in the boutique, and squeed musically. “Oh, Twilight! I’m gorgeous! What… How did you—” She turned and grabbed Twilight with her hooves. “In fact, I could just… oh, Celestia, why not.” She then promptly planted a perfect kiss on Twilight’s lips.
Twilight’s head fell back slightly, a stream of smoke hissing out one ear. “Glad you liked it,” was all she could manage.
“Like it? I love it~” Rarity pranced around, admiring her coat from all angles. “In fact, I think I just solved your money troubles.”
“Really?” Twilight perked up.
“We’re doomed,” Spike breathed, watching them as his face filled with dread.
“What is this?”
A line of colorful pastel ponies pushed far past the entrance of Ponyville’s center. Next to the large fountain, Twilight had magicked together a table, complete with sign that read ‘Five Minute Floof.’ Rarity trotted up and down the line, chatting happily with all the curious ponies, her floofed chest getting oohs and ahhs as she passed.
“Twilight!” Spike called, running towards the front of the line. “Ho—, nevermind. How exactly do you think this will work?”
Twilight barely glanced his way as she shuffled bits in her levitation. The pile behind her was getting bigger and bigger, long having overflowed the bag Rarity had brought. A wide smile crossed her face as she cackled maniacally.
“Just… just think of the books, Spike.” A little drool trickled down the side of her chin. “All the biggest, rarest, tomes in all of Equestria, and from beyond!”
“Twilight, you’re drooling,” Spike said with a sigh. “And yes, books, fantastic, but there’s another problem.”
Twilight giggled as she began recounting the bits, all the while collecting and casting her floof spell on the next pony. “Oh, Spike. There’s no problem. I’ve already gotten half the bits we need. If we keep this up, I might even be able to just buy the Canterlot Library.”
“‘Cause it’d be that easy.” Spike pinched the bridge of his nose with his claws. “This isn’t going to work, you know.”
“Pffft, you’re crazy.” Twilight’s eyes shrank as she tossed half a dozen bits at Spike. “My plan is genius!
“But—” Spike started.
“Genius!” Twilight replied, louder and with another toss of bits.
“Spike…” There was a groan and a shift of covers. “Spike.”
“Nooo, Emerald, I don’t love you for your Rarity.”
“Spike!”
The dragon turned and promptly fell out of bed with a heavy thump. He looked up blearily to see Starlight looking anxiously at him. “Huh? What’s…” He yawned. “...the matter?”
“He’s here.”
Spike slowly blinked. “Sorry, Starbright. Wha… who is it?”
“The city code enforcer.”
“Celestia’s beard.” Spike slapped a claw across his mouth. Looking up, he murmured an apology before getting up. “Do you know what he wants?”
“No, I just…” Starlight shivered. “He asked to see the secretary of this royal building.”
Spike rolled his eyes. “I guess that’s me, technically. And with that pony, technically is all that matters.”
They walked towards the front of the castle for a moment before Starlight split off. Spike turned, raising his eyebrows. “What? Not even for moral support?”
“That pony makes Maud Pie look like her sister.” Starlight fled.
Stepping up to the doors, Spike took a deep breath. “Alright.” He removed the last barrier separating him from insanity.
The grey unicorn stood there, waiting, staring ever forward. Spike tried not to shiver at the blank stare, trying his best to smile as he raised a claw.
“Hello, Prime. I’ve been expecting you.”
The pony raised a hoof, meeting Spike’s gesture with painstaking slowness. “Hello, Secretary Spike. And I would like to remind you that the name of which I prefer to be called upon is Mr. Numbers.”
“Oh, right…” Spike trailed off. “Anyway, down to business?”
Mr. Numbers cleared his throat very slowly. “I am here upon hearing that one…” He looked down and read from a clipboard he was holding. “…‘AnonymousAlicorn123’ has imported a number of literary materials deemed unsuitable for the confines of a royal palace.”
Spike groaned and nodded. “Which books?”
Mr. Numbers didn’t even look down. “I must address the pony in question. There are several details of which I must go over before we can collect said material.”
Spike’s face drooped. “Follow me, then.” Instead of leading the pony inside, Spike walked past Mr. Numbers out towards the center of Ponyville. There was only the tiniest change in elevation of the inspector’s eyebrow as he turned and followed without a word.
Sure enough, Spike spotted the line long before the actual book fiend. He trotted past Lyra and Bon-bon, both of whom pranced anxiously. With an eye roll, he moved past, walking down the long line of mostly mares. Flashes of purple magic perfectly identified Twilight’s location as they arrived at the stand. Piles of bits, mounds of money one could actually swim through, sat behind a widely grinning Twilight Sparkle and an extra floofy Rarity.
“Twilight!” Spike called. Twilight was going through customers at a breakneck speed. “Twilight, stop!” She did no such thing. In fact, she didn’t even acknowledge Spike’s presence. He ran close enough to tug hard on her wing. “Twilight!”
Twilight turned, her face twitching as she smiled. “You need a floof… I’ve got it. I’ve got your floof right here.”
“Oh, Celestia.” Spike cringed back as Twilight’s horn glowed and blasted him with purple magic. When he could see colors other than purple, Spike scowled up at Twilight. “Really?” He brushed his claws through a now fluffy chest, not recalling ever having chest hair. “Twilight, you need to stop.”
“Can’t stop.” Twilight started to turn back to the crowd. “Won’t stop.”
“Can I assume that you are ‘AnonymousAlicorn123’?” Mr. Number’s voice wasn’t loud, but the perfect monotone seemed to strike a tuning fork in Twilight’s mind.
Blinking slowly, she turned back and answered, “Yes?”
With practiced ease, the stallion produced a small folding table, ink pot, quill, and papers from hammerspace, and then sat down. “If you would.”
“We’ll be taking a little break, everypony!” Twilight yelled to the crowd, many of whom groaned in disappointment. She moved to sit down opposite of Mr. Numbers, suddenly slow and methodical with her movements.
“Now, Miss Sparkle, do you require me to explain who I am and the purpose for my visit today?”
Twilight looked the pony over, from his plain, formal mane style to the badge number, complete with black letterings of Prime Numbers. “No,” she said, face tilting downwards. “No, I do not.”
“Very well, then.” Mr. Numbers began writing on small, yellow slips of paper before passing them to Twilight. “This one is for the possession of improper materials on royal grounds. Two hundred bits per item.” His quill scratched again. “Use of pseudonyms for the purpose of acquiring said materials, an additional five hundred per.”
Twilight’s mouth dropped.
“Operating a business without a license, practicing magical cosmetology without a permit or proper facility,” Mr. Numbers continued, “improper storage of bits, use of B class magic while mentally unstable.” He wrote down a few more figures, then spelt it all out. “And finally, we come to a grand total of one million, three-hundred-thousand bits.”
“You have no soul!” Twilight cried.
Mr. Numbers wrote a bit more. “That’s immaterial.”
Twilight died.
Spike worked at his table, scrolls unfurled all the way to the floor. Sighing, he pushed away, eyelids heavy from the financial torrent of the last weeks. A moment later, there was a flash, and Twilight appeared in front of him.
“Hey, Twilight.” Spike didn’t even flinch.
“Guess what, Spike!” Twilight pranced in her business dress as she smiled. “I got a job!”
Spike blinked. “Really? Doing what?”
Twilight’s smile widened. “Helping Mr. Numbers write tickets. Apparently, while I broke a lot of rules, he was willing to get me a job as his assistant.”
“How did you even manage that?” Spike shook his head at the ridiculousness of his life. “Oh, I bribed him.” Twilight blushed only slightly. “Apparently, The truth about Imaginary Numbers is something he’s been searching for.”
“Of course… Everypony wants something.”
Twilight laughed, rubbing her hoof on Spike’s head. “Now I’m off to make ponies miserable!” In another flash, Twilight was gone, and so was every thread of sanity Spike had left. With a sigh, he pulled a blank scroll from the paper pile, a quill at the ready.
“Dear Princess Celestia. Today I learned… well, I learned something. I’m just not entirely sure what. If anything, I’m more confused than I’ve ever been.
“Thank you for helping with Twilight. She really didn’t need any more enabling at that point. Anyway, I’m going to take a ten-year nap.
“P.S. If Numbers isn’t in your favor, you’ve got better odds fighting a bugbear with a blindfold.”
