Spike Microwaves a Marshmallow

The purple dragon walked into the tree, clutching a bag of white, puffy objects in his pre-adolescent claws. They looked almost like clouds, but more with defined edges.

By tree I am, of course, referring to the library in Ponyville. You see, someone had the great idea of hollowing out the tree, processing the lumber into books and returning them to the remaining husk of the tree in alphabetical order. Over the decades the tree had been home to a half dozen librarians. It currently housed one Twilight Sparkle and a dragon, Spike, as her faithful assistant.

But that isn’t the point of this story. For now, you just need to know that the Ponyville library is located in a hollow tree and that Spike the purple dragon just walked in the front door holding a bag.

“Twilight! I’m back!” Spike hollered after closing the wooden door behind him. The librarian, a unicorn, was a similar colour to Spike, although noticeably paler. She had a mane of deep violet with pink streaks running along its length. Surrounding her were two piles of books, sorted into complete and incomplete, each further sorted by author. Spike noticed that the completed pile had three sizable additions from when he left a couple hours prior.

Twilight glanced up at the dragon for a moment before returning her gaze to the book on the table in front of her. “Early Rising: A Natural, Social, and Religious Duty,” Spike read after walking over to the unicorn. “What’s that about?”

“It’s about how to wake up earlier. If I can get up earlier then I'll be able to spend more of my day studying!” Twilight’s enthusiasm was almost overwhelming. From Sleep: The Mysteries, the Problems, and the Solutions to Healthy Sleep Habits, Healthy Children, the dragon noticed that all of the books in the table had something to do with sleep. He rolled his eyes, but said nothing. As long as he could continue sleeping in, then he was fine with it. He remembered the bag that he had in his hands.

“Twilight, look. Pinkie Pie gave me a bag of treats.” The dragon held out the bag for his friend to examine.

“Uh-huh. That’s nice.” She didn’t look up.

“Are you going to try one? Pinkie said they’re very super-duper yummy.” A sweet smell filled the air as he tore open the bag.

“Yeah, yeah. Go ahead.” She still didn’t look up.

The dragon sighed once before plodding away to the kitchen. He got out a plate for himself and grabbed one of the white treats. It felt spongy and soft, much like his friend Rainbow Dash described clouds to feel like. He placed it in the middle of the porcelain plate, watching intrigued as the squashed snack swelled back to its original size.

He looked back at the bag that lay on the counter. “Marshmallows, one pound,” he read aloud, “A sweet treat for a summer’s day.” Small pictures on the bag depicted marshmallows being put in steaming drinks and being cooked on a stick over an open fire. He skipped over the first image, not really wanting a drink. The second picture, however, gave him an idea. Turning back to the plate he belched green fire onto the puffy morsel. It disappeared.

Disappointed, Spike took out a second marshmallow and placed it on the plate. He looked around the kitchen for some way to cook his treat. The open range would take too long to heat up. On the other hand, the microwave would heat it quickly and wouldn’t leave a dirty pan that would need washing afterwards. He promptly placed the plate and marshmallow into the microwave. Closing the door to the microwave, the dragon set the timer for three minutes and pressed start.

Spike left the kitchen and went upstairs to finish his chores while his snack warmed up. He returned to the kitchen when he assumed it was nearly finished. A muffled FOOMP came from the microwave just as he walked back in. Spike stood in the doorway, puzzled at the sound. The microwave beeped out its completion a moment later, returning Spike to reality.

He hastened to the microwave and tore the door open to see his prize. The first thing he noticed was the smell. His marshmallow smelled of burning sugar. Inside the microwave sat a large oozing thing. It had patches of brown and black, as if it had cooked in some places and not others. It filled three-quarters of the cavity, covering the plate entirely. Slowly it was getting smaller, like a gradually deflated balloon. Well, perhaps if the balloon was burnt and smelled like a pie left in the oven for far too long. White, gooey smears stuck to the walls of the microwave where the marshmallow had retracted.

Spike was dead. That was all that could happen. Twilight would find the mess. And she would kill him. Unless...

Spike shoved his whole head into the microwave and started chomping furiously. The goop found its way into the cracks between his scales and up his nostrils. Burning marshmallow is more than uncomfortable when applied up the nose, but Spike didn’t slow down. Anything was better than Twilight killing him. And he knew she would if she found him.

A lump of the ooze got lodged halfway down his throat as he tried to pile more of it into his mouth. His body decided that it had had enough and started coughing to remove the unwanted substance. Magical fire accompanied the coughing, and soon the entire marshmallow was gone from the microwave, part into Spike’s stomach, part magically burned away. Luckily, the fire also cleared the marshmallow from his nose.

After a minute or so, Spike pulled back from the microwave to examine what was left. The gunk that his snack had become was completely gone, leaving the interior of the microwave spotless, other than the plate it had rested upon. The plate that had cracked in two. Cracked in two, with burn marks across the top surface. Ooh, Twilight was going to be very, very angry. Maybe not ‘kill the baby dragon’ angry, but still angry. At least ‘ground the baby dragon for a week’ angry. A second stroke of genius came over the dragon and he hurriedly took the plate halves and tossed them from the kitchen window.

Spike turned away from the window, chuckling deviously. He stopped short when he saw Twilight staring at him aghast from the doorway. He became awfully aware of the gak still stuck between his scales.

“Bath. Now.” A purple glow erupted from the unicorn’s horn and surrounded Spike, pulling him to his watery doom.

Side note: Princess Celestia had to have her mane shaved because the molten marshmallow would not wash out.

This was my first story. I don't imagine it was that great. You're welcome to rip on me in the comments if it makes you feel like a big boy. If you want real comedy, I'd suggest reading GorisTheDeathclaw's works. He graciously edited my work and is a far superior comedian.

Thanks for reading.