> Honey, Where are My Hands? > by Inky Scrolls > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Don't Tell the Anthropologist > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Twilight Sparkle - Princess of Friendship, Headmistress of Ponyville School, Element of Magic - sighed a deep, contented sigh, breathing out into the calming stillness of the library. 'Twas Summer - the schools were out, the days were long, and the afternoons were hot and sunny and peaceful. Spike was visiting somepony over in Canterlot (when asked whom he was going to see he'd maintained a bashful silence), and Starlight had gone out for a meal in town with the Great and Powerful Trixie. Twilight was alone in the castle. All was tranquil - all was quiet. The sun beamed in through the party-open lead-lattice casement, with a gentle, cooling breeze flowing pleasantly past the jamb and into Twilight's mane, blowing away the metaphorical cobwebs with pleasing placidity. It was into this stillness that, with all the suddenness of a cannonshot, a loud, ringing clonk! of the castle's front door being flung back with wild abandon rang out through the hallways and corridors, followed by the rapidly nearing sound of a pony running at full gallop, hooves striking the crystaline passages with gusto. Unless there was a truly great emergency - which, given the continued leisurely atmosphere of the outside world, seemed unlikely - there was only one pony who ever felt it necessary to make such a disturbing entrance to the castle: Pinkie Pie. Twilight, removing her reading glasses self-consciously - her friends still being unaware of her long-sightedness - carefully replaced her bookmarker and returned the book she had been reading ('Daring Do and the Lemons of Ultimate Wisdom') to its shelf, before mentally preparing herself for the swiftly approaching onslaught. At that moment, the door to the library was slammed carelessly back, slotting perfectly into the door-shaped grove in the wall, which increased marginally in depth each time Pinkie visited, and the party pony herself cantered into the room. "Twilight!" she cried, breathlessly. The Princess smiled indulgently at her energetic friend. "Hey, Pinkie! What can I do for you?" Pinkie, having regained control of her lungs with surprising alacrity, grinned toothily. "I have a question!" Twilight nodded encouragingly, remaining silent to allow her friend to speak; the pink pony continued, whilst pronking effortlessly around the library, "I was baking in the kitchen at Sugarcube Corner with the Cakes because we have a huuuuge order for cupcakes which has to be filled before tonight because they're for the Saddle Arabians who are visiting Celestia tomorrow and she said we could make them because I'm her friend and I thought that was really kind but I don't know if we'll have room in the ovens because we've got to make at least a hundred cupcakes and we can only fit about ninety-eight in at once so I was like 'Hey, why not borrow some more?' and Mrs Cake was like 'Where from?' and I didn't know so we thought we'd better just fit them all in the ovens we have because they'll probably just about fit and then I suddenly thought 'I wonder why ponies don't have hands'!" She gasped, struggling to maintain sufficient levels of oxygen in her bloodstream after that rather confusing explanation; the pause allowed Twilight time to catch up with what she had been saying, discard most of it as irrelevant, and focus on what appeared to be the salient point: Why don't ponies have hands? Twilight raised an eyebrow, cutting in before Pinkie had chance to launch into another semi-relevant spiel; "Wait - what d'you mean, 'why don't ponies have hands'?" "Duh!" Pinkie mocked, giggling at Twilight's apparent ineptitude, "Ponies don't have hands, Twilight! Why don't they?" Blinking in confusion, the Princess tried to clarify exactly what they were supposed to be talking about. "But - but I don't understand - ponies don't have hands because. . . because we just don't! Ponies don't have hands - it's like a rule, y'know?" Pinkie Pie shook her head in generous amusement. "Of course we don't, you silly pony!" - she reached out and booped Twilight lightly on the nose - "But if ponies don't have hands, why are we measured in them?" Twilight swallowed, her pupils narrowing to pinpricks as she considered what Pinkie was saying. It was true - ponies (and, by extension, horses), were traditionally measured using 'hands', not 'hooves', unlike almost everything else. She mentally kicked herself for not having noticed this before - why were ponies' heights given in hands? "I don't - you see," she stammered, trying to retain a grasp on the situation, "You s-see, ponies are - well - it's just that - I don't know!" the confused Princess confessed at last. Pinkie Pie smiled triumphantly. "Hah! I knew it! There must be a strange, ancient reason, lost in the mists of time. . ." As her voiced trailed off into what she hoped was spooky silence, there came a light tapping at the window. The two ponies glanced round, and were met with the golden-yellow stare of Ponyville's resident kook, conspiracy theorist and Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns dropout: Lyra Heartstrings. "Hey!" she called around the partly-opened window, did somepony mention 'hands'?" Immediately regaining her sense of intellectual superiority, Twilight facehooved. "Yes, Lyra, we are talking about hands. But!" she added hurriedly, as Lyra's expression instantly transformed from mild interest to utter fanaticism, "There is no evidence that humans have ever existed in Equestria! None!" Now hopping up and down in excitement, and apparently ignoring everything Twilight had just said, Lyra inquired breathlessly, "Can I come in? Can I, can I? Pleeeeease?" "Sure thing, Lyra!" Before Twilight could react, Pinkie Pie had pushed open the casement fully, allowed the minty-green unicorn to clamber over the sill, before falling ungainly into the room, landing in a heap. She leapt back upright, grinning wildly. "Hey, Pinkie! You've noticed it too, huh?" "Yup!" the party pony informed her, before repeating the explanation she had given to Twilight just moments before, word for word. When she had finished, and was once again gasping for breath, Lyra smirked at Twilight, who had remained speechless for some minutes. "No evidence, huh? My plot there isn't!" Before Twilight could say a word, the two overly-excitable ponies pronked happily from the library, relishing their shared conspiracy theory, and busily planning ways to prove the existence of humans in Equestria at some point in the distant past. As soon as they had left, Twilight frowned humourlessly, before summing up all of her magical prowess and teleporting to Canterlot Castle. Upon arriving in the Castle courtyard, and having cleared the ringing in her ears by casting a quick pick-me-up enchantment over herself, Twilight hurried up the long, winding steps to the personal quarters of the Princesses of the Sun and the Moon, not stopping even to exchange greetings with the guardponies outside. It was four o'clock, and Twilight knew that Celestia would be just about to begin her afternoon tea. Upon arriving outside the entrance to Celestia's own inner sanctum, she paused, taking a deep, calming breath, before knocking politely on the oaken door. The Archprincess' voice could be heard calling out in reply, muffled by the thick wood; "Come in." Twilight seized the doorhandles with her magic, pushed the doors open, and passed within. "Why, Twilight!" Celestia cried, pleased to see her close friend, but surprised at her unannounced presence; seeing the younger alicorn's stern expression, she asked anxiously, "Is anything the matter?" Standing directly in front of her former mentor, Twilight nodded. "It has begun," she intoned. With uncharacteristic solemnity, Celestia frowned, dismissed the guards standing inside the doorway with a vacant wave of her hoof, and glanced away into the distance. So, she thought to herself, her mind suddenly awash with fears, doubts and thousand-year-old stratagems, The day Starswirl warned me of has finally arrived. . .