"[Filly NMM] Moonie Shorts Pt2 (Updated 10th, Mar 2019)"
By 8th-Sin (https://pastebin.com/u/8th-Sin)

URL: https://pastebin.com/kdsEEAUt
Created on: Friday 29th of December 2017 06:48:45 PM CDT
Retrieved on: Sunday 9 of May 2021 08:38:35 PM UTC


Previous sixty shorts: https://pastebin.com/5WWqvqra
Apparently, my previous paste can cause some shitty phones or PC's to lag a little due to its length. So that is why there are two.
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Story idea by Anonymous:
Nightmare Moon returns and is hit once again with the Elements of Harmony, turning her into a filly with almost no power left.
Much to Nightmare Moon’s annoyance, Anon thinks she's cute as all hell and is the only one willing to put up with her antics and evil, so Celestia tasks Anon with keeping an eye on her and reforming her like Discord.
 
Note: Luna and Nightmare Moon are separate entities in this fic.
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Prose for those interested: http://www.fimfiction.net/story/195222/moonie-shorts-filly-nightmare-moon
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More Moonie stories that aren't a couple hundred words long can be found in my paste.
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[61]

"Remind me what I pay you for?" You remark to Trixie begrudgingly as you start your tie over for the fifth time unable to recall how exactly any one of the twenty ties you can't do go.
>"To eat your food and something about magic school," A snarky Trixie says behind a mouthful of food, chunks of whatever she is trying to digest before you kick her out of the kitchen fly out and onto the floor.
"Right," you mumble under your breath, "Moonie, you best be ready by now."
>It's the school holidays, and by some magic trickery, Trixie conned her way out of looking over Moonie today.
>"Please tell me we are doing something interesting," Mumbles Moonie moodily.
>Her mane lacks its usual flowing glow and luster as suitcases hang from under her eyes as if to loudly boast of the late night she had. It's any wonder what she was up to, though it likely involves some kind of mischief.
"Well, at some point today we'll need to venture into the Everfree."
>Moonie's eyes bulge in excitement, leaving the rest of her face in its sleep deprived annoyance.
>"Why?"
>Her voice lacks any emotion that isn't excitement. In fact, it's not hard to see her heart thrashing in its cage wildly and her eyes almost run all her crazy imaginations like a slideshow across themselves.
"There's an old witch up there. I need to check in on her, get a few things signed, and whatnot."
>"Why?"
>You furrow your brow as you experience a brief episode of anger resurging by recalling all the times she has asked why to the point of breaking.
"Because she has asked for a few permits for a few things but can't make the trip."
>"Oh," a dejected Moonie replies, "I was hoping for something cool. Like she unleashed a demon and started consuming things. Or a bad batch of potions. Maybe a curse has thrown the town into an endless slumber."
"What exactly do you think a mayor does?"
>"Valiant defender and guardian of the realm with a lot of paperwork to do," she lies.
"Hmm... You're half right."

>You begin walking towards the office but Moonie's many questions on the witch, usually circling around when, causes change course to head into the Everfree Forest.

>As always, the woods are covered in plant life that likely have minds on their own. 
>Trees grow anywhere that isn't the pathway; vines, moss, and varieties of fungi grow on the trees all the while bushes and other shrubbery grow in between.
>Little shapes and shadows leap across the corners of your eyes. 
>And it feels like eyes are looking back from beyond the dark every time you look into it. 
>But none of this phases you. 
>Moonie, however, is loudly yelling about all the monsters you may happen across in the forest.
>"And there are meant to be hydra here too. Great big things, with lots of heads. Legend goes, if you cut one off then two more take its place. I bet the one here has, like, a thousand heads.
"You know when we get to this mare's house. I want you on your best behaviour."
>"What could I possibly do?" She says, feigning being wounded.
"I'm not giving you ideas."
>"Does she live near Zecora?"
"No, otherwise we'd be on the main track."
>"Huh, I thought this was smaller. How come they don't live near each other? If they're both witches. Oh! Do you think witches have turf wars?"
You screw your nose up at Moonie, "Turf wars? No. And don't let Zecora hear you call her a witch."
>"Why?"
"She used to cop that title a lot when she first lived here. And enchantress, as well as a few others. I'm pretty sure shaman is the union-prefered term. So you call her a that or by her name, got it?"
>"What do you think she'd do if I called her a witch?"
"If she was in a bad mood?"
>The two of you meet eyes and shudder as you repress every thought that just appeared.

>"Is that the place?" Moonie shrieks as you arrive at the shabby little shack.
>You nod so Moonie scampers off to be the first to knock. 
>As you look over the joint, you remark how out of place it seems in the forest. 
>In a strange way, it was like the house was made elsewhere, for another forest, but just got up and walked here. 
>You shake your head as you arrive at the doorstep, just in time for the witch to open up.
>"Ah, Mr Mayor. I've was expecting you later in the afternoon," the elderly mare states in her low gravely voice.
"Uh, Mayor is the title, my name is Anonymous and I am sorry about all this. I had to," you pause for a moment and glance down at Moonie who is giddily bouncing on the spot, "Move my schedule around a bit today. Is it a bad time?"
>"Not at all. I had a feeling you'd be the early type. Do come in."
>She leads you into a little sitting area and remarkably, the house which seems bigger on the inside, is also big enough to accommodate your size. 
>While you could have sworn on the outside the shack was unusually small, you're able to stand straight and still have leagues of room between your head and the exposed roof joists.
>"Hm, that explains it," mumbles the witch.
>"Explains what?"
>"Hm? Oh," she replies, seemingly taking in Moonie's presence for the first time, "Just noting about the thing with the name Mayor. Your friend here looks nothing like the old Mayor."
"Mrs Applefire, this is Moonie. My adoptive daughter. And Moonie, this is Eskarina Applefire. Behave or she will turn you into a newt."
>Mrs Applefire chuckles forebodingly as she eyes Moonie who just looks back in wonder and daring. Daring her to do it. 
>While Mrs Applefire is an elderly unicorn there was still a beauty to her. 
>Her light purple coat was smooth though worn, while it was partially in a net you could still see her fire red mane flowed into its golden yellow tips, and she had a bit of makeup on around the eyes.
>"Where is your hat?" brazenly asks Moonie.
>"My hat?"
>"Yeah, your witching hat. Every witch needs one, how else would you know they're a witch?"
>Mrs Applefire smiles fondly, "I left it in the scullery, let me go get it and while I'm at it I'll fetch us some tea."
>Moonie beams up at you.
>"Skulls!"
"It's not what you think," you hastily reply. But it's too late.

>Moonie darts off after Mrs Applefire to sneak a peek into the mare's scullery only to return in a defeated slump. She sags into her chair and begins to pout. 
>There's a hanging silence before Mrs Applefire returns, donning her witch hat, with the tea floating above her. 
>She passes you your cup and sits opposite you then wastes no time going into business. 
>You hand a few forms for her to sign and make sure she understands what she is agreeing too. 
>It's all boring mayor stuff so Moonie just rolls about on her seat.
>"Well, thank you for coming out all this way," Mrs Applefire cheerfully comments.
"Not a problem, I was in the neighbourhood anyway."
>Mrs Applefire laughs then turns to Moonie, "I 'spose you have some questions for me."
>This perks Moonie right up and sends her firing off a barrage of questions. 
>Any normal creature would be thrown off, but Mrs Applefire stayed calmed and answered them all just as quickly.
>"Do witches have turf wars?"
>"Used to. We have a rule now, one witch per region."
>"Can you actually turn people into a newt?"
>"Temporarily."
>"Do you take apprentices?"
>Now you seize the moment and pull Moonie out the door.
"Well, we best be off," you state nervously.
>"Fair enough. Oh, one last thing. Could you deliver this to Mrs cake. Tell her it's the 'Mr. Once-A-Fortnight' potion she asked for?"
>"What's it do?" Moonie innocently asks.
"We don't need to know. That's private. Come on," you say hastily, pushing Moonie along.
>"Farewell, you two," Mrs Applefire waves with a warming smile.

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[62]

>As you glance at the piece of paper, eyeing it carefully for something you've missed, you tap your pencil over and over on the desk.
>"Whats up?" Moonie asks nonchalantly as she enters the room.
>You glance upwards then to Moonie who gives you a glaring warning.
"Just making a list," you resign, deciding you've already riled her up without even making the lame joke.
>"For what?"
"Things I need to pack."
>Again you run down the list as you feel the pessimistic pressure that you've forgotten like so many things in the past. 
>There is always one thing you forget. 
>And you'll never think of it until you're on your trip, doing nothing. 
>Then you get the honour of spending the rest of the day annoyed with yourself for letting something so obvious slip through your mind like a broken sieve.
>"Where are we going?" she probes while snacking away on a bar.
"I am going to Canterlot, for Mayor stuff. You are staying here with Trixie."
>"Why?" she stomps with puffy lips.
"Because you have school, and I need a reason to be paying Trixie."
>"Just fire her," her tone is cold and distant.
"That's far too harsh, I'm not doing that."
>"Why not?"
"Because she's useful to keep around, even if she's lazy. Maybe that's why you two get along so well."
>"I do NOT get along with her."
>Her defiant words ring out but their meaning is hollow. 
>You think of all the times the two have magic lessons or when they collaborate on a bit of mischief together. 
>They argue sometimes but it's always over benign stuff and neither means any threat they throw out though they both know that, they'll never admit it. 
>Another thing they'll likely both never admit is that they act rather like bratty sisters together. 
>But you wonder what they're like when you're not around. 
>You make a mental note to try and find out one day.
"Keep telling yourself that," you reply dismissively.
>"Let me come, it's my last year of school anyway," her sing-song whine continues.
"All the more reason for you to stay. You'll have to get a job after that, or further education."
>"But Trixie gets to freeload off you."
"She doesn't, she helps around the place. More than a certain someone. Besides, when was the last time you saw me clean around here? Or do the food shopping? And there's those "
>"You did the dishes last night," Moonie says matter of factly.
"Okay, aside from that. You know she's been helping. Plus she does pay board here."
>"You let her move in?"
"She's been here how long now? It's not permanent, just until she figures it time to move on to the next town. I told you this--Do you ever actually listen to me?"
>"What?"
>You turn back around to the desk.
>"Wait-wait-wait! That was a joke, I'm listening. I am!"
"You better be."
>"So you'll let me come to Canterlot?"
"No."
-----
>Moonie's crusade to wear you down until you let her come with becomes seemingly endless. 
>Without tire, she asks the question again and again. 
>Though your responses are slowly getting increasingly irate, you hold firm. 
>Then suddenly, the day before it's time for you to go.
>"Can I go?" the relentless filly pops her head out of her room to ask.
"Moonie, for the last time, I said no."
>"Fine," she concedes before slamming her door shut.
>The slam echoes in the house for a moment before silence falls and along with it, a sense of foreboding. 
>You're expecting the question to come barraging back sometime in the day. 
>After a week of constant questioning, you know Moonie isn't the type to give up now.
>For the rest of the day, everything Moonie does is missing its usual flair and lustre. 
>Her feet drag lightly as she walks, Sir Bearington rides on her back like she is some common horse, and she does everything you tell her without question or even a hint of her typical brattiness. 
>You know what she's doing. 
>The classic guilt trip. And despite that, you feel a little bad.
-----
>The big day comes. 
>You pack up all your things as you check them off your list. 
>Even after adding a few things, you're still adamant you're forgetting something.
"Come on Moonie," you call out.
>She looks up from her bed in a bit of confusion to see you holding two bags. 
>One large, clearly yours while the other is decorated in Moonie's trademark night sky motif. 
>With a squeal of excitement, she leaps off the bed and grabs both her bag and Sir Bearington before making a dash for the door. 
>You do brace yourself for some bragging or showboating, but it seems Moonie doesn't want to risk it. 
>At least, not until she's on the train. Then her little cheer begins.
>It's a short ride, but you're still glad once it's over and you can get to your hotel.
>"I thought we'd be staying in the castle?"
"Why?"
>"Because this is a mayor thing."
"Yes, not a royal thing."
>"Did you upset one of the princesses?"
"No. I just don't want to bother them for a room each time I come here."
>"In the castle that has like fifty spare rooms."
"There's not that many."
>"I think I'd know. It used to be mine once upon a time."
"You're also prone to exaggeration."
>She blows a raspberry at you as you finally enter your room. 
>Then as you step inside you pause as you realise something.
>"What is it?"
"Shaver. That's what I forgot," you grumble.
>Moonie rolls her eyes.
>"There's always something."
>You continue to be sour as you place your suitcase up on the bed, then with a great heave, Moonie throws her bag at yours which causes a pop sound from your case.
"What was that?" you ask as you open it up.
>"No-no! Don't!"
>But it's too late, you open it up wide for the smell of the stink bomb that just went off to permeate through the room and invade your nostrils with its nauseating smell. 
>It's like it rotten eggs decided to spend an entire week sweating up a storm before bathing in whatever smell skunks make and deodorise with a stick of that really weird french munster cheese.
>"Oh, sweet moon above, I am out of here."
"No, you get back here little miss," you bellow as you stamp after the scampering filly.

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[63]

>As always with great minds such as your own, boredom sets in quicker than a paper mache cast under the summer sun. The analogy brings to mind the time you pretended you had broken all four legs as an excuse to get out of school on an exam day. But Anon just borrowed a wheelchair and left you at school in the casts all day.
>"Slave driver," you grumble trying to be bitter but hindsight has made the ordeal a little funny.
>You step outside with Celestia's sun hanging brightly overhead. There's something odd about it, you feel. Perhaps it's the fact that you're in Canterlot, so close to the one in control of it but it feels watchful. Like some great fiery eye searching the domain to make sure order is being upheld. Of course, you know that's not possible. During the time you spent "with" Luna, you couldn't do that sort of thing with the moon. Then again, they are two different rocks.
>After doing a wonderful job of building on your own paranoia, you dive under some shade and venture about the town while making a game of staying out of the light as much as possible. Kind of like how some fillies will skip over cracks for fear of breaking their mother's back. Then you notice a small crack in the pavement. You eye it carefully and think.
>"In my case... Would 'mother' be Anon... Or Luna?" You think grimly as there isn't really any other candidates.
>The strange conundrum rattles about in your mind until it becomes boring and opt for just carrying on with your day. You often tend to subscribe to the principle of 'Oakram's Razor' where if any question doesn't have an easy answer, it's just a headache.
>A mare of snobbish upbringing gasps at the sight of you in the middle of her brunch.
>"What is the matter, dear?" Her fellow bruncher asks in that slow and overly-enunciated drawl that the 'upper-crust' always seem to have before looking to where she is pointing, you.
>"Oh," you say with a wry grin, "You two can see me?"
>They both take a gulp and nod in unison. Slowly. Beads of sweat begin to cascade off their foreheads like shooting stars which causes your devilish ego to grow three sizes in that moment.
>"After my defeat, my ghost has been wandering these grounds plotting my revenge. If you two can see me then I'll be needing... YOUR SOULS," you break out into a mirthful cackle, ensuring to flash your shark-like teeth, as the brunchers shriek before breaking into a panicked getaway.
>You make a hasty getaway yourself as you do not wanting to be around when they try explaining to onlookers. It always adds to that dramatic effect.
-----
>You're not sure how exactly your wandering led you here but you stand at the castle gates. The pearly white walls stretch into the heavens and seems inviting if it weren't for the golden gates baring the way. The scene almost is reminiscent of some holy scene so often depicted. Everything looks so carefully sculpted from the castle bricks to courtyard lawn, as well as the statues and flora that lead all the way up to it. It'd be an even more spectacular view if it weren't for the two guards at the gate. One of which has a lazy eye that he tries to focus on you, switching between them in a constantly distracting and confusing pattern to any who'd politely try to look him in the eye.
>"Oi, this ain't no place for a filly," a guard states in a guttural accent.
>"What was with the double negative?"
>"Double negative?" The second guard asks, his accent being a little cleaner but still a hard to hear clearly.
>You shoot both an exploratory glare to find that they're both genuine in their bewilderment.
>"I guess standards have fallen a bit in the past millennia," you loudly mumble to yourself so they can hear.
>"Look, I don't know what you're on about little miss but you best be on your way."
>"Why?"
>"Because this is no place for little ones."
>"Why?"
>"Well... It's a castle Innit?."
>"So?"
>"Well... Uh, you tell her, Sarge.."
>"It's cause this is where them Princess live. And all them dip-lo-mat-ic dig-ni-tari-es," he says taking careful notice to sound each syllable as if he isn't quite sure of what he is saying himself followed by a confident nod.
>His fellow salutes him then they both look at you in wait for your retort.
>"So, you're saying... It's no place for a child because of all the adulting?"
>"No, the adulting in on Grope Street--" one guard goes to say before the other deliberately coughs very loudly.
>"You alright Sarge?"
>"Constable, that ain't any sort of talk to be having with no filly."
>"There you go again. Double negative."
>"Whattsat?"
>"It's any sentence that has two negative words," you sigh as you think of the simplest way to explain it, "Basically the two negative cancel each other out making the sentence a negative. When you said, ''that ain't any sort of talk to be having with no filly." What that ends up meaning is "that is the sort of talk for a filly." Understand?"
>Two guards look at each other then the one called Sarge says, "If that's the case, then how come you knew what we meant?"
>Again they share a look, giving a confident grin as if they just won the war.
>"You know, they're saying Nightmare Moon has returned."
>"What?" The guards say in unison.
>"Yeah, over in the food district or whatever it is. Lot's of cafes," you mention without much conviction as you feel you don't need to expend the energy to convince these two.
>"Well, we better get over there then Constable."
>You chuckle a little as they buy it.
>"Hang on Sarge, how will we know if it's her? I've never seen what she looks like."
>"Good question... I guess--"
>"She looks like me, only taller. Good looking. Wears battle armour."
>"Right, there we go! If we catch her, I bet we'll get promotions."
>"You mean, I'll become a Sergeant?"
>"What?! No! You'll be a Senior Constable, otherwise you'd be skipping like three ranks there."
>"Senior? But I'd not even that old."
>"I swear lad, you're a bit slow sometimes. Just--Come on."
>The two guards scurry off like some kind of comedy routine and as they disappear into the horizon, you feel the tension leave with them. And then you open the gates, and begin to wander the once familiar halls of Canterlot Castle.
-----
>You peer through door after door to gather your bearings and then head to nowhere in particular. An idle thought of checking the throne room crosses your mind but you'd rather just walk until you find someone else to subject to your presence.
>"Good afternoon Moonie," voices someone who sounds warm and motherly.
>When you spin around you see the towering figure of Celestia, smiling at you. And the worst part about her smile, is it seems genuine.
>"Ah, my most hated and vile arch enemy. BUTTlestia," you mock as you poke your tongue at her.
>She laughs softly.
>"Anon is right, you have a charm to it now."
>"A what?"
>"The adorable brattiness. It suits you well," Celestia beams, "Oh, I mean no offence by it. I like it."
>"No! Loathe me," you bellow. 
>Your voice echoes down the hall for a bit then silence falls. Then, with a confident swagger, Celestia walks on. Her hoofsteps echo too as she passes you and then she pauses a ways away from you.
>"Aren't you coming?"
>"Where to?" you asks with distrust.
>"To Anon."
>Oh, lead on peasant!"
>Celestia giggles again then two of you walk side by side. You take note of the fact that she is walking a little slowly so your normal pace keeps up with her. It makes you wonder if this is just a natural reflex for her or if she's being polite to you. Then you internally dry retch at the 'p' word.
>"I believe he should be in here," Celestia whispers as she peers through a crack in two large golden doors.
>You peer inside too to see a large table with various creatures around it. Most are ponies but you note there also a yak, minotaur, two griffons, and Luna at the table.
>"What's going on?"
>"Oh, just a fiscal meeting. A little boring to be perfectly honest."
>"That's it?"
>Celestia nods.
>"Then why aren't you in there?"
>"Luna wished to represent Canterlot. Fine by me, then I can have a bit of fun."
>Your ears prick up at the possibilities, "Like what?"
>"Like pouring a bit of purple-burple potion into Luna's lunch."
>There's a bit of a pause while you take a moment to imagine the scene, and then another moment to muster your willpower so you don't laugh.
>"One day, you and I need to collaborate."
>"I look forward to it. Now, have you eaten?"
-----
>At lunch, you caught wind of Celestia's foreshadowing and switched the drinks only to find Celestia thought of that and purple-burple'd both. And so the two of you try spending lunch trying to each in between all the laughter and burping when Anon arrives.
"I heard the echoes of burping down the hall and figured you had to be here," he remarks, trying to hide a smirk.
>"Celestia *burp* did it!"
>"Oh, Moonie. How impolite to go around *burp* I do apologise," Celestia states in her most formal and innocent tone.
>She slyly shoots a grin your way to let you know she's going to get out of this and you aren't. You smile at the surprisingly devious Princess if it weren't for the fact she is throwing you under the cart.
"You know what... Let me have a go," Anon laughs with his hand outstretched.

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[64]

>The train carriage rocks and rattles along the tracks as the scenery whizzes past in an ever changing sea of colour. Moonie stands on her hind legs as she peers out the window, amusing herself somehow. So, as all busy bodies seem want to do, you take it as a chance to get some paperwork done and pull out your glasses. Just as the rim sits upon your nose, Moonie whirs around to glare at you.
>"How is it that you always have paperwork? I swear not even Minister Mare did this much when she was the mayor."
"I've got a few other roles, not just as mayor." You eye over a few 71T's and sign a quick 45S.
>"Like what?"
"Confidential," you tease, tilting the forms blatantly out of her view.
>"You need a hobby," grumbles Moonie from the sides of her mouth.
With a sigh, you firmly slap your paperwork into your lap and remove your glasses to shoot a scowl at her, "I have work and you, where abouts could I fit in a hobby?"
>"You could take a day off work," she replies with her back to you.
"I do if you recall. That's when you and I go for lunch, muck about, or go on a trip. I took that extra day in Canterlot for the two of us to wander about."
>"As I recall, you weren't going to take me on this trip to begin with."
>Now her words are biting a little. While at first you thought you were doing a playful back and forth to make light of what could be a serious topic, now that you've caught on a bit, you quickly harden your tone.
"Look, I know I work a lot. Back where I came from I had many distractions so I never did much really."
>"What do you mean?"
"Like TV," Moonie gives you a blank gawk until you add, "The slideshow box?"
>Moonie nods when she fishes the recollection from the deepest recesses of her mind.
"People used to make millions of movies and so you could watch these stories unfold as the hours drip away. There's none of that here, so l... I guess I learnt how to distract myself in something productive instead."
>"What is the point of a movie anyway?"
>You give it some thought. It was hard enough to explain what a TV was to her the first time around, let alone the purpose. Moonie often seems to have a limited attention span, if things can't be explained simply then she doesn't find a reason to listen. A trait you have since been conditioned to. So many explanations and lectures cut short once you felt you said enough as you knew that was all you needed to say.
"Okay, you read a book and you imagine the scene right?"
>Moonie nods.
"Well, no two will imagine the same scene. You might imagine ponies while I'll think of humans for the characters. Some people add in a background, with curtains and the such while others won't as they want to focus on the foreground, plot, or who knows what else."
>"Yeah, so?"
"Well, if you made a movie, I could see how you see the world. Even the angles you want me to see show how you want to illuminate certain scenes or ensure how I follow something."
>"Oh, so you watch a movie to let someone else's mind do the imagination?"
"Uh, yeah, more or less."
>"Are all humans so willing to be unimaginative?"
>The remark catches you off guard as you realise as per usual, Moonie has found another meaning in what you were trying to say. The issue with this, as you give it some thought, is that her summary isn't what you meant at all yet isn't entirely inaccurate. And that rubs you the wrong way in the sense that there is always a sense of pride from where you come from, even if the people can be dim. Sometimes you like to forget the idiot part of the idiots you're related to.
"Some, yes. And to be perfectly honest, I used to be one of them. But here," you gesture to the wider world, "I don't get those distractions, so I need something to focus on. I'm not trying to justify my constant working, I just want you to understand where I'm coming from."
>"So... You don't have the same distractions here... On the train?"
>The two of you chuckle a little then the conversation seems to find itself at one of those impasses. Neither of you can really think of what to add but there's that hanging feeling like there's more to be said. So instead the conversation seems to hang overhead in a form of stagnation until one of you speaks.
>"What was that meeting for anyway?" Moonie asks as she turns back to you. Her tone does a good attempt at appearing flat and uninterested, but there is the underlying accusationt to it that can't be removed no matter how well one might bluff.
"Public relations," you reply quickly.
>In Moonie's mind, she recalls Princess Celestia talking about fiscal reports while in yours, your mind glazes forward to think of a blurry future.
"What do you want to do?" You state, eager to move onto another subject.
>"Like, now? I dunno... Track down the food cart?"
>She shrugs and you wonder if she deliberately dodged that question. If there was one thing that Moonie was good at, aside from tyrannical rule, it was putting on airs of blissful ignorance.
"School ends in a few weeks," you add.
>Moonie groans and slumps onto the chair in an annoyed heap. Internally, you sigh as you try your hand at the same subject you've been trying to approach for a few months now.
"Come off it. You know I'm not letting you dodge it this time. You're stuck in this train with me."
>"There are other carriages," she grumbles in that familiar tone of potential disobedience that lacks any real conviction.
"Yes, and if you get caught then you'll need a job to pay that fine," you explain as you point to a sign.
>"Only staff may move between carriages whilst train is in motion. Fines apply. 100 bit minimum." It reads.
>"100 bits for moving, like, a metre?"
"Now, speaking of jobs."
>Moonie's eyes roll as she knows it'll take much more than what she currently has to avoid this topic. And she had done well until now.
>"A job, huh? I thought you were just going to drag me into your office."
"Why would I do that? I only take you there when I don't have someone to watch over you in my stead," you note, genuinely confused and very slightly hurt.
>With a groan and exaggerated emphasis on her struggle to sit up, Moonie looks at you with deadpan eyes.
>"Oh, really? Her tone oozes sarcastic disbelief.
"What, did you really think I would MAKE you work with me? If you want to, that's a different matter, but I want you to do something that you want."
>Moonie pauses, her eyes are unblinking as she examines you. Then they narrow as she tries to search for something deeper before widening in shock.
>"Wait. Really?"
"Yeah," you nod slightly as you wonder what sort of slavedriver Moonie imagines you to be.
>"Anything I want?"
"Of course. I have some money saved up, so if you'd like to go onto further education, travel, or start a business then you're welcome to. Well, within reason on the business. I'm not investing in nonsense here."
>"But why?" She asks, still looking like she was struck by lightning.
"What do you mean why?" You scoff, a little affronted still, "it's my role to make sure you're cared and provided for. Which includes your future. So what you want to do, is your choice."
>In a huff and display that you feel matches the offence you've received, you give the papers a flick and put your glasses back on to peruse the contents. Moonie finds herself locked in thought and while she looks to be staring out the window, however her sight is looking beyond it. You can almost feel the heat of deep contemplation. Moonie imagines all sorts of possibilities, argues the pros and cons with a little internal court system before moving onto the next idea. And these cogs turn for some time before she utters anything.
>"What... If I'm not sure?"
>Her face is still locked into whatever far off plane she found herself in and her tone is distant.
"That's fine. Even I'm not sure what I want to do."
>This statement grabs her attention. She spins back to you.
>"But you're the mayor?"
>Her eyes try to hold your attention suggesting that, like a snake or vampire might do to prey as they try to assess the threat before a strike, that looking elsewhere would be unwise.
"Yeah, but I got that job as Mayor Mare's assistant because I lost the one at the bakery, remember?" You shrug.
>"You mean Minister Mare."
"She was Mayor Mare at the time."
>"I always thought Mayor was her first name. That she'd be minister Mayor Mare now."
"So did I," you rub your eyes as they strain from the thought, "I still don't get half the things you ponies do."
>"So, you don't want to be Mayor?"
"No," you sigh as you return your paperwork to your lap once more, "I want to be Mayor... But I'm not sure if it's something I'll always want to be doing. Maybe a few years I'd like a more hands on job, or something artistic, or maybe I'll keep going until I retire... Oh god, what will I do with myself in retirement."
>The image of you kicking back in some rocking chair, surrounded by various pets for company, as you count the days gone by until "the big one" flash before your eyes. A chill runs down your spine until you shove that thought deep down where you hope you'll forget it. Once you return to reality you notice Moonie has gone back to staring outside again.
>"You could work until you croak, most rulers do it that way," Moonie suggests awkwardly with a wry smile.
"I don't think I'll be planning that far ahead," you chuckle sorely as you try to put it out of your mind once again.
>"So... It's fine if I don't know?" Moonie flatly asserts.
"Of course, but you need to do something. You can always change your mind later. Just don't go wasting time."
>"Then what should I do?"
"You know... When I was very little, I thought of all sorts of things that I'd like to do. Be a builder, write a book, a doctor maybe, or even be a detective in those crime noir books I liked reading sometimes. And know what I ended up doing?"
>Moonie shakes her head.
"I worked in a restaurant, waiting tables."
>"That's rather lame. You could have been a great tyrant. That was my first job," Moonie interjects with a swell of pride.
"Well, I had to wait for Mayor Mare to become a minister first," you laugh but turn it into a muffled snort as soon as you see Moonie still in deep thought in the window reflection.
>"What did you do then?"
>She now turns to face you, genuine curiosity etched on her face. You take a deep breath as you recall.
"Well... I got a second job. Working nights at a mall, as security. Which I then found a third job," your eyes glaze over as you fall back into history, "I didn't get much sleep."
>"You worked three jobs at once?"
"Yeah... It was a living. And then after saving a little bit, I decided I still had no idea what I wanted out of life... Let alone what I wanted to do. So I decided to go travelling, not for of that find myself nonsense, I thought worldly experience might help me decice," you add distantly before shaking your head until you came back to the present.
>"How was that?"
"I'm sure you can guess how well traveled I became," you remark with a knowing smile.
>Then Moonie curls up once again, in thought. As you turb back to the forms once again in what you hope is the final time, you add, "If you do decide to start a business or something, please include Trixie in it. I really need her out of the house more. Doesn't need to be anything important, just like... An executive role or something."
>"I thought she was going to be staying temporarily."
"What can I say, most creatures I let into my house seem to stay permanently."

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[65]

"--General cry of despair," you read the final line of the book and then slowly close it.
>You glance over the back of the book and think of how the worlds are sealed away forever now. It was the final book in the series, a series you were enjoying a lot. And then you find yourself letting out a very long breath you didn't know you were holding in and with it, comes in a swell of sadness. It always sucks to finish a series you were enjoying, but you think about how there can't ever be any books of the series ever again. The author passed some time ago now.
>"Hey, I was thinking," Moonie states aloud in a manner that suggests that although she is posing this as a question there is only one answer, "We should go out to dinner. The Gilded Giraffe is always nice."
>You rise to your feet suddenly then gingerly slide the book back into its place. Moonie's words haven't really entered your mind. While you definitely heard them and you definitely have a retort floating about in your mind, you find yourself struggling to interact with reality. Mentally, you are in another world. A world of fantasy with fond recollections. Replaying events in the series that made you laugh, sad, had you staying up well past bedtime as 'just one more chapter' turned into five, and lessons you took to heart out into the real world.
>"Anon?"
"Hmm?"
>"Gilded Giraffe, yes?"
"I'm not really up for outside actually. But if you want, I'll give you some bits and you can go buy yourself something."
>"Agreed, we have a contract. You cannot break it, otherwise the consequences will be death," she bellows jovially.
"Very funny," you reply as you slump back into your chair.
>"What's wrong?"
"Hm? Oh, nothing. Just tired, I guess."
>It's only a half-truth admittedly. While you're not overly upset or anything, this has kind of just sucked all your motivation and energy out of you. All your mind seems want to do, is relax for a few minutes until something comes along.
>"You were staring at that book a moment ago," notes Moonie as she leaps onto your lap with a cat-like swiftness.
>"Just finished a series is all."
>Moonie rolls her eyes, "This again?"
"What?"
>"Why do you get like this over books?"
"I like books."
>"But they're still there."
"It's hard to explain. But, it's... Well, I can only experience it for the first time once. Sure I can reread it, but it'll be different the second time round."
>She gazes at you thoughtfully. Then she turns around and leans back onto you like you are the armchair as her magic pulls over the first book in the series."
>"Your queen has not read it before. By royal decree, you shall read it to me."
"Aren't you bossy," you remark as you ruffle her mane a little.
>"Page one, peasant!"

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[66]

>Hunched over your desk in what must be a very familiar sight if you didn't work alone; you sign, dot, refer, and file the endless paperwork. 
>Even though it doesn't make sense that you have to do this much. 
>Sometimes you wonder if some evil mare out there is somehow conspiring to give you more paperwork as an inconvenience or if the ponies of this town don't understand what a mayor should do. 
>Then again, that's comparing two different cultures. 
>Maybe other mayors in other towns do this much work, which is a question you always seem to forget to ask when you meet one.
>You lean back, bones wheeze as they attempt to unstiffen, and then you stretch out. 
>And now you've noticed the outside world in what must have been hours from when you began. 
>You remove your glasses to rub them clean idly with a handkerchief. 
>While you don't need glasses, it was expected that a mayor would wear them. 
>That was something Minister Mare taught you back when she was still Mayor Mare. 
>It would be like a unicorn without a horn, a Pegasus without their wings, or whatever it is Earth ponies have going on. "A mayor isn't a mayor without a pair of glasses, the fair ponies of this town expect it," she would say. 
>And so you commissioned a custom pair of fake glasses.
>The most infuriating part, is that everyone thinks that you're off duty when you're not wearing them and now that you wear them so often you have grown habits any glasses wearing person would have. 
>You hold the pair up into the light to check for smudges and then place them back on your nose, adjusting them a little until the pads sit back into the little indents they have made on your nose.
"I guess I should be getting home," you grumble at the night sky.
>You place a few pieces of paperwork into a suitcase and shuffle on home.
-----
>"You're late," calls Moonie lounging upside down on your chair.
"I know. What did you and Trixie have for dinner?"
>"Pizza."
"Any left?" You ask as you walk past and hit the lever for the chair to recline.
>Moonie yelps a little and then pouts, giving you the silent treatment. You just smile and walk into the kitchen. 
>There's a pizza box in there but upon closer inspection, only a single slice remains.
"You kids are all heart," you call out as you take a bite.
>"Kids? Trixie isn't a kid. She's a fully grown mare. When is she moving out?"
"This entire town are like kids to me. Besides, Trixie fell on hard times so I let her live here where she does the bare minimum, causes trouble, and eats all my food. Sounds like someone else I know," you grumble with a smile as you lay out on the couch.
>"EXACTLY! I spent years to get where I am, and she just waltzes in on my turf!"
"Your turf?" You scoff.
>"Yes, this is my home!"
"I'm pretty sure I own the deed to the place," you chuckle, egging Moonie on who is getting visibly more upset.
>"A minor detail, I am your queen!"
>You finish the last piece of the pizza and stare up into the ceiling. The white paint looking like the skin on an orange peel somehow seems to invite your mind. 
>The room swirls and blurs out of existence for a brief moment until you blink. 
>Then you snap back from your lapse in consciousness.
"You know," you begin in a distant tone, "Back where I come from, there were some kids who'd live with their parents until they were 30 for all sorts of reasons. Some even longer. Now that I think about it, there is something about you that makes me suspect you'll be one of them."
>"I'm already over a thousand years old," Moonie adds drily.
"Yes, and I bet if I could live for a thousand years, then you'd stay right here in this house with me."
>"I've already been through one thousand year imprisonment, I don't think I shall voluntarily go for another," hisses Moonie in her typical 'I don't want to admit I feel feelings' manner.
>You roll around to look upwards from your horizontal position to gaze at Moonie who is standing on the foot rest of the recliner to glare at your.
"You like me," you say in a bubbly voice.
>"Ew, no."
>Moonie softly blushes as she steps back slightly to put on a display of disgust. You reach out with a single finger and Moonie eyes it carefully.
>"What are you doing?"
>As your finger approaches her face, she reels back. But only her head. Her body stays locked in position, unsure if fleeing or standing ground is the right thing to do.
>"No," Moonie uneasily states.
>Then your finger pokes her squishy little cheek and she glares fiercely at you.
"Aren't you a little sweetie."
>With your finger still pressed into her cheek, she looks with you with a deadpan stare and says, "I have a strong dislike towards you, especially now."
>Moonie leaps down from the chair and begins to head to her room when she notices you sit up and pull out some paperwork.
>"More work?" She remarks in an irritated tone, "What do you do in that office?"
"More work."
>"How can you have more work?"
"If you recall, someone said there would be a big festival for Hearts and Hooves day."
>"Oh, yeah, I forgot about that plan. That was ages ago," comments Moonie as her face brightens up.
>You give a brief chuckle then look over for a certain form.
>"Well, let me help," she continues.
"What?"
>"Let me help. This was my idea and you said I need a job. I could be like a... Temporary assistant. Yeah?"
>You eye her carefully. This WAS her idea and that means she has plans. And she beaming far too much for this to be just helpfulness. 
>But you stop yourself just before you recall how this started as you've got far too much to do to be second-guessing help. 
>Admittedly, you need an extra set of hands... hooves... You need help.
"Fine," you cave in the midst of silent cheers from Moonie as you write down a list, "I need you, tomorrow, to go see these ponies. The list on the left are those who we need to ask if they'd like to do a stall or event or anything at all. You'll come in with me to work first thing where I will give you forms for them if they do. The centre list are those who have already agreed, they need the form too. And finally, the list on the right is people we will need a few things from. We'll sort them out if we have time."
>"This feels like you're giving me all the work to do."
"The final list we probably won't get to for a few days from now. But that's only half."
>"Half?" She stammers in disbelief as you hold up a second list.
"This will be who I'll be visiting."
>Moonie takes the list back to her room, grumbling.
-----
>The preparation goes rather well. While Moonie did have a bit of trouble at first, she does get into the swing of things. 
>The only trouble she caused was mix-ups with paper work and forgetting her list twice. 
>Amazingly, she doesn't cause any trouble with the citizens.
>And had you not been so immersed in your own work, that might have worried you.
-----
>It's the day of the Heart's and Hooves festival. Most ponies are all coupled up as they wander up and down the street together. 
>Even some of the stalls and games are run by couples, a few of which can't keep their eyes off one another. 
>Love is definitely in the air. 
>It goes to show that Moonie has left a mark on you as internally you stick out your tongue and dry retch at all the lovey-dovey stuff. 
>But at the same time it brings a smile to your face seeing so many enjoy themselves and the company of others so much.
>Banners announcing the festival, posters listing events, heart shaped balloons, streamers, and all sorts of decorations litter the town in celebration.
>"Howdy Anon," Applejack calls out from behind a stall titled 'Couples Apple Crunching'.
"Hey AJ, how's things?"
>"Going well. This is some fine work you did on this here festival. Noticed quite a few happy mares found some special someponies for the day and are having a great time. What about yourself?"
"Yeah... What is Couples Apple Crunching?"
>"Oh, well. It starts off a bit like Apple Bobbing, one fishes out an apple from the tub of water here then has to hold it in their mouth while the other half of the couple tries to each as much of the apple as possible in thirty seconds or until the apple falls from their mouths."
"I bet that's been popular. How do you judge if they win a prize," you ask as you notice all the stuffed Apple-based mascots behind her.
>You happen to notice one stuffed apple with a bow and arrow, wings, and that odd little diaper thing cupid is always in. 
>But you'd rather not ask too many questions on the subject.
>"I just play it by ear. Most are just giggly and wrapped up in one another that they're happy to get anything. A few of the more charming just let go of the apple and plant a kiss on the mare's open mouth," she cackles loudly, clearly recalling a few particularly awkward moments for a few couples.
"Well, I best be off. Need to check in on a few things."
>"Are you serious? Take the glasses off Anon, have some fun."
"I notice you're still working."
>"Yeah," shrugs AJ, "But I'm having fun with it."
"So am I," you reply with a smile as you head down the road.

-----

>As you wander down the street, you check in on a few stalls and talk to a couple of couples who call out to you. 
>Everyone is having a good time. 
>Then as you walk past a chocolate stand, Pinkie calls out to you.
>"ANON! You're working?"
>Her loud gasp nearly becomes a screech from the shock. You look around to see if anyone else is watching and then shrug. 
>Not having a special somepony on a day like today shouldn't really come as a shock to anyone as far as you're concerned. 
>Ponies aren't really queuing up to date the human.
"Uh, yeah... Aren't I always?"
>"But you should be with your special somepony on a day like today."
"What about your special somepony then," you reply, noting she is all alone.
>"Hm? Oh, I set up a speed dating event later on. Remember?"
"Oh, yeah," you answer despite not really recalling, figuring she set it up with Moonie.
>"Well, you should still get something," Pinkie sweetly says as she shoves some sweets and chocolates in a heart shaped box into your arms.
"Oh, Pinkie I really couldn't--"
>"Not another word," she states firmly in what seems like an impression of Rarity as she shoves you further down the road.
>You take a few steps when a mysterious stallion says something about a sample before spraying you in the face with some cologne. 
>The various smells of musk, fruit, and oak overload your sense as you cough and splutter further down the road. 
>There a bouquet of roses is shoved into your free hand by one unknown pony while a smaller pony grips onto your pant leg to lead you along.
"What's going on?" You ask as the haze from the cologne begins to clear.
>"Sit here," says Moonie as you're shoved onto a chair.'
"Moonie?" You ask as you tilt the flowers out of your face just in time to note you're sitting in an outdoor restaurant.
>Opposite you is a brown mare who is blindfolded. Using her magic, the blindfold is removed to reveal a confused Minister Mare.
>"Anon?" She asks noticing the romantic restaurant's atmosphere, kissing couples, bouquet of roses, and heart shaped box of chocolates in your hand.
>And then, she blushes.

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[67]

>Minister Mare's cheeks glow with a rosy tint and you almost begin to feel a swell in your own cheeks when a snicker from behind the nearby bushes calls your attention. You snatch a look just in time to see the billowing mane that is reminiscent of the night sky. The name Moonie hisses in your mind as you turn back to Minister Mare with an awkward smile.
"Uh, I'm sorry about all this. It seems Moonie has been... messing about."
>Minister Mare clears her throat before saying in a carefully thought out tone, "Yes, I figured as much when she led me here."
"I got swept up in a bit of a commotion myself then dropped here all of a sudden. Honestly, I'd never do this sort of thing," you state dismissively.
>Then Minister Mare raises a brow and peers over her glasses to shoot you an accusing stare.
>"I see," she answers flatly.
>Her tone doesn't give anything away but her blush is still there so the sudden change leads you to assume you have offended her. Then your heart rings the guilt through you.
"I," you cut yourself off and take a breath as a waiter comes over with a vase of water for the flowers you were still holding, "I meant... If I were, to say, try and get a date with you then I'd ask. Not force you during a public event, like this."
>Then the two of you can feel the many eyes watching intently all around you and slowly glance around to meet all those eyes staring at you. Many of which dart back to whatever it is they are pretending to do but a small number refuse to look away, terrified they'll miss some of the juicy gossip.
"Seems half the town is here for this," you add.
>"So, you are interested?"
>Her words catch your attention and you find yourself the subject of her gaze as they deeply examine every flicker in your expression.
"Interested?"
>"You said, if you were to ask. You didn't say you'd never or wouldn't ask. Which might be interpreted as you are interested."
"Oh, I... Uh, what I meant was," you stammer as you open your mouth a few times to speak then close it right after as words fail you. Only the sound of your heart's thundering anxiety can be found.
>Suddenly, and in a rather disarming way, Minister Mare laughs.
>"Sorry. That was rather mean of me, but I wanted to tease you a little to see if maybe you had a discreet hand in this."
>You relax, your body almost feeling like it's unfolding as she smiles at you.
"No. This was sprung on me too."
>"I can tell. But you were given some lovely flowers and chocolates."
"Yeah," you reply dizzily.
>In your hand sits the heart shaped box of chocolates. You lift the lid Minister Mare leans in to inspect them. The chocolates look hand made and you find yourself wondering who it was who made it, trying to recall the events of how you got it. While Pinkie was the one to shove them in your hands, it wasn't her stall you were in front of.
"Wasn't she doing a 'Couples Ornate Cupcake Carving' stand?" You think to yourself.
>It wasn't you who organised the stall with Pinkie, it was Moonie. But you recall looking the paperwork over to double check late one night as you were trying to sort Moonie's dinner then bath out while push out everyone else's forms. You click your tongue in frustration for not noticing the name then. Sure it's not exact, but you know what they're doing. They used to do it all the time when you worked at the bakery.
>"Chocolate liquors, quite strong smelling too," Minister Mare states as you close the lid, "Shame. I'd have liked to have one or two, they look delicious, but I think it best not to risk it on a date. Don't you?"
"Uh, you sure?"
>Then you look at Minister Mare as if for the first time. Her hair looks sleeker, the usual fringe that points out now flows down the side of her face while the ear on the other side is adorned with a Chorki Sola flower. In a way, the flower almost matches the little neckwear she always has that looks like the offspring of a scrunchie and necktie.
>Mayor Mare nods, "Now, I don't know Moonie like you do but I've heard a few things and spoken to her a few times when she came to the office. But what do you think she has to gain from all this?"
>You lean back a little as your eyes drift upwards in contemplation.
"It's hard to guess what she's getting. it could be anything really but we're the centre of attention here and she got us both here... Most likely what everyone else is getting in return is us."
>Then all of a sudden, three ponies wander over and begin to play a love song. One has a violin, one a saxophone, the last one is singing, and over in the distance is a mare playing the piano loudly so as not to be left out. You and Minister Mare exchange looks, smile, and decide to enjoy the song.
>It's a slow number, whether it's a jazzy or classical one you cannot tell. Or maybe it's the blues. Your mind wanders a bit from the lilting tune, it wanders even from you as you're not entirely sure where it takes you. But you do steal a few glances toward Minister Mare.
>Then the band finishes and takes a bow to your and Minister Mare's clapping, which then leads to the entire restaurant joining in. You notice the mare with the sax blush from the applause as the stallion who plays the violin winks at you with a beaming smile. Then, they leave.
>"Well... I think your guess was right on us being Moonie's side of the bargain. Still, what could she get? Is it just our awkwardness, did she take something, or?" her voice trails off as she stares out.
"Moonie is greedy and mischievous, there could be any number of things she gets in return. We'd be here all day if we tried to guess. But I do have a question."
>"Yes? Ask away."
"How did you get swept up here."
>"Oh, that," she giggles softly, "I was offered a little spa treatment, which I declined. But then they offered me a free hair styling and their eyes were so pleading. The second I opened my mouth to decline however, they threw themselves at my hooves to plead... So, I thought why not. Then as soon as I am out of the chair, this flower is shoved in then my face is sprayed with far too much perfume as I was pushed along to be sat here just before you arrived."
"They timed that rather nicely then."
>"Yes, i thought so too."
"Which means it more than just those in this restaurant that are in on it, though I 'spose that's rather obvious."
>"Yes, it would seem so."
>"Would sir and madam wish to order?" interrupts an uptight waiter.
>In an awkward haste, you quickly grab the menu and gaze over the wide variety of items. Many look expensive and to your horror, many look hard to pronounce.
>"The chef wished you two a lovely meal and said it is all on the house," he adds.
>"I'll go with the hot dogs," calls out Minister Mare.
>You gaze over your menu in shock at her then look at where she gesture, the waiter. The poor stallion is wide-eyed with sheer horror. As if nothing else she could have said could have been no greater sin in this fine establishment. You quickly eye the menu once more to find something, then beam when you eyes meet your order.
"And I'll get an order of ribs and wings, extra sauce."
>Now the waiter turns to you and speaks in what he must think is a composed manner but his voice quivers, "Surely sir and madam would not like something a little more... how to say--"
"Oh, a drink?" You remark as you turn to Minister Mare.
>"Well, it must be a wine. Let's go with chef's recommendation. Oh, but no reds. they don't agree with me."
"And no whites either," you add as the two of you hand the menus to the waiter who slowly wanders away to try and make sense of his conundrum.
>"Poor dear," Minister Mare states.
"You started it."
>"Yes, well. I've always wanted to do something like that. Canterlot is filled with fine dining and every pony is so very uptight about it. Sure this is Ponyville, but it's still satisfying."
"I don't miss that about Canterlot."
>"Did you used to live there?"
"Yeah," you shrug, "For a little while before I moved out here."
>"I had no idea. No pony has mentioned it."
"I wouldn't expect them too. I was a fad up there for a little while. Ponies tried imitating my clothes, little bits of slang, and I was expected at every party under the Princess' sun. And then the new thing came along, thankfully."
>"So, why did you move out here?"
"Well... There were lots of reasons but I can't recall what was the deciding factor... I guess, a change of scenery."
>"That sounds a good a reason as any."
"What about you?"
>"Oh, I've lived here all my life. Born and raised, aside from when I was sent to Canterlot Academy."
"What was that like?" You pause for a moment as Minister Mare gets embarrassed, "You're blushing. Now you have to tell me."
>"No! You just, I remembered something."
"What?"
>"It's embarrassing."
"Look, I promise I won't tell."
>Minister mare eyes you warily until you perform the pinkie promise. Then with a deep sigh, she tells you.
>"When I was at school... I was very much into... glam rock."
"What was that?" You ask genuinely as her voice was barely a whisper.
>"Glam rock."
>This time you hear her but you decide payback is due for the teasing she got you with earlier.
"I can't hear you properly. I'm not asking you to shout it, just clearly."
>Then with a deep intake of breath, she finally says, "Glam rock."
>Her blush grows to the point of encompassing her entire face. The bright red mare avoids your eye contact as you smile and try not to laugh. Though the only part of that you find funny is her intense embarrassment of it, but you're aware that if you did laugh she'd take it the wrong way.
"Nothing wrong with that," you finally manage coolly.
>"Oh, but I used to wear this dress and... fishnet sleeves or stockings, and these little neck--It's just very embarrassing. A few ponies sported the look back then, because I mean, who wasn't into Ziggy Stardust at the time. But I still."
"Do you have any photos?"
>"No!"
>Her instant response determined to shut down the thought gives her away and you smile wryly.
"I'll stop teasing. I'd say we're even now. Still, I'd love to see it some time."
>"Maybe one day," she replies with a sigh of relief that her torture is over.
>"I do apologise sir and madam, it appears we are out of both of your orders. As an apology, the chef prepared this," states the uptight waiter who is now sporting a grin that suggest he has won some kind of victory.
>He places down a large plate of spaghetti and meatballs. Just one, squarely between the two of you. You try to stifle a laugh as a thought of an old movie comes to mind leading you to wonder if the ponies here are waiting for that kind of scene to play out today.
>"And, your wine. It is a lovely Soul Mate Rosé by the Hart of the Barossa made the early shiraz grapes to be matured in barriques from Stratusburg and blended to create a marriage of sweet and dry so as not to be too much of either."
>He pours the pink liquid into two glasses before taking his leave.
"It's pink," you remark.
>"Technically, we did say no white or red."
"Yes. Yet technically, pink is just white and red. So we could say they got it wrong twice."
>"I think we should give it to them. Still, spaghetti and meatballs. Hardly a romantic meal, wouldn't you say?"
"You know, I think I know what they're hoping for in that regard."
>She raises a brow in curiosity from behind her spectacles, so you fill her in.
"If we both end up trying to eat both ends of the same strand, our lips might meet."
>"The likely hood of that."
"I know but that's my guess."
>She eyes the plate before her carefully then seems to nod in agreement. And so, the two of you eat. There is little conversation to be had as you eat but then as if god himself got annoyed at the wait, the two of you end up eating the same strand. Before either of you start to eat, you catch eyes and smile.
>While still holding the stand in her mouth, Minister Mare says, "So, who will be the first to back down on this."
>Your eyes narrow as the two of you begin to edge closer while the piece of spaghetti gets smaller. The collective breath of the restaurant holds as two lips slowly move closer and close. You can almost feel Minister Mare's breath as your lips close. Then as there is barely a centimetre of distance, you bite and return to your seat feeling a little flustered. Though you can feel the immense disappointment from all the eyes boring into you.
>"Ha, I see," Minister Mare giggles as she stares at the plate.
>You look to where she is staring to see the piece of spaghetti sitting atop it, barely a centimetre long. The realisation that the two of you bit at the same time hits you, and you join in the laughter.
>"No pony seems to be happy with us over that."
"Ah, well, I thought this was a date between you and I."
>She blushes once more and laughs a little before the two of you finish your drinks and decide to leave the meal there.

-----

>The two of you begin to wander the streets a little, partaking a few free samples of food or watching couples play some games which always go one of two ways; a tremendous victory resulting in the best prize or spectacular failure caused by the couples being inseparable which results in giggles.
>It ends up being a nice day, one surprisingly being Moonie-less. You were expecting to see her orchestrating events or around to watch and cackle from afar.
>And then you arrive at the lake at sunset after a bit of aimless walking.
>"Well, isn't this romantic," Minister Mare mutters.
"Heh, it's a great view," you add.
>The two of you share a glance before a swell of awkwardness rises up inside you and you look away.
>"I had a lovely day," Minister Mare warmly smiles toward the horizon.
"So did I. Definitely wasn't what I expected."
>"Oh? And what were you expecting?"
"A day of wandering amongst all the couples. Checking in on things, chatting here and there, and maybe buying a sweet or two."
>"So a day of being the mayor?"
>You nod and Minster mare chuckles softly.
>"Well, I hope you don't mind me taking you from your mayoral duties."
"Of course not."
>"Then... I hope we could do something like this again sometime. It was nice spending the day with you."
"If you're ever back in town or if I'm in Canterlot, I'd love to."
>As your eyes meet Minister Mare's, there is a pause. A silence that hangs in the air and builds as neither of you say anything. For a moment, your attention seems to fade out as there seems to be a connection building based on eye contact alone. And then, you break it.
"Well, I best be off. It's about time for me to cook dinner."
>"Do say hi to Moonie for me, and thank her for our evening."
"Heh, yeah... I will. Take care Minister Mare."
>"And you, Mayor Anon."

-----

>As you wander off, Minister Mare stays behind as a little mare steps out from the bushes.
>"Well, the climax wasn't what I was expecting," mumbles Moonie as she brushes herself off, "Then again, I wouldn't have been able to keep myself from heaving if had to sit here and watch you two kiss."
>"I thought you weren't going to watch?" Minister Mare asks, then as she sees you disappear from sight she turns to face Moonie.
>"Well, I got something from everyone else who I got in on our little plan... Except, not you."
>Her eyes narrow as Moonie beams at her.
>"You never asked for anything to help me."
>"Well, yes. To help you, that was from the kindness of my heart. And even my greed has limits. No, I want something so i won't tell Anon this was all your idea."
>"I don't see Anon to be the type who would be too upset over me setting up the date."
>"Maybe... or maybe not. If you'd rather, think of it as paying me back for all my hard work. Just hear me out. All I want is a favour."

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[68]

>You and Moonie are sitting on the couch with a big bucket of popcorn as you're about to watch a movie.
"Ready?" You ask.
>"One sec," she replies as she hovers a single piece of popcorn in front of her face.
"What are you doing--"
>Moonie launches the popcorn into the air but the piece begins to fly backwards so as Moonie adjusts the her positioning, her head meets the back of the couch while the popcorn sails to the floor behind the couch.
>You're picking that up."
>Once more, i can do this."
>You continue to sit there as Moonie launches popcorn after popcorn piece into the air and misses every time. 
>Even the once with a good throw she somehow manages to miss, instead taking it to the eye or shoulder. 
>The closest she got was the popcorn piece that booped her nose.
>Moonie," you tiredly exclaim as you grab a single piece, "Like this."
>You launch it into the air and watch it like a hawk stares down its prey then as it begins its descent you adjust your 
head in a a seemingly random pattern then snap at the right time for you to catch it.
"See," you say as you chew.
>Moonie glares at you then says in an irate and sarcastic tone, "Oh, I had no idea that catching it was all I needed to do."
>She rolls her eyes and does it once more, but this time she doesn't move until the descent then her head movements seem to mirror your own. The world seems to go into slow motion as it moves closer and closer, then just barely you catch the faint magical glow around the popcorn piece as it moves in mid air to land into her mouth.
>"I DID IT!"
"Disqualified."
>"WHAT?!"
"I saw the magic."
>"I didn't use magic, that was all talent."
"Don't lie," you reply in your authoritative parental voice.
>"DAMMIT! You can't just watch that sort of thing, you ruined it! You ruin everything."
>With a wry grin you take two pieces and launch one to catch in your mouth. Then once you do, you launch the other at Moonie and hit her right on the lips. 
>This sends the filly into a state of fury. Her eyes widen and her ethereal mane almost looks to be made of steam.
>Using her magic, she grabs a bunch of popcorn and begins to fire them like a gattling gun, so you grab a handful of your own and leap behind the couch to occasionally fire a single piece when safe. 
>Rather than watch the movie, the two of you spend the entire time using things from popcorn to pillows to have a fight until you're both exhausted and fall asleep where you fall.

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[69]

"Have you seen Moonie?" You ask a passerby.
>The stallion shrugs as he carries on his way. Then as you turn around to gaze over the landscape to think, a mare pipes up.
>"I saw her at Carousel Boutique earlier."
"Oh, thanks," you reply hastily while a little taken aback at the thought of Moonie being there of her own free will.
>As you make your way over, you ponder all the various reasons she'd be there. 
>Only one seems the most likely. 
>Now you don't want to be one of those types who always assume she is up to something, but typically, she is. Besides, >Moonie has never seemed to be the type to be into fashion, or any of that lady-like jargon. 
>Then again, you aren't the type either. 
>Maybe she is, and just hasn't approached you about it.
>As you look downwards, you remark to yourself, "then again I wear more clothes than anyone else in this town. Why >wouldn't she talk to me about it?"
>You conclude that, for whatever reason, she most likely isn't there of her own free will.
-----
>The bell chimes as you step inside the fashionista's home and store.
"Hello? Rarity?"
>You wait for a moment before the pattering of hooves come hastily downstairs.
>"Ah, Anonymous. Darling, what brings you here?"
"Looking for Moonie, I heard she was here sometime today."
>"She... Was."
>Rarity avoids eye contact which makes you suspicious, then leading you to notice other cues. 
>She shuffles a hoof just slightly, sucks her lips in a touch, and her eyes meet yours for the briefest of moments before retreating.
"Rarity--"
>"She made me promise not to tell," she abruptly pleads, "Nothing is wrong and it's really, really exciting. But... I can't say. A promise between ladies is stronger then diamonds."
"I see," you reply slowly as you eye the giddy lady, "but... You want to tell me, don't you?"
>"Of course not. Because I promised. But if... If I had not given my word, then I'd think it a delightful bit of news."
"Fair enough. Even if you can't tell me what it is, can you at least tell me if she is here."
>"Oh, yes. Just upstairs in my workshop," she replies distantly as she eyes a customer entering, "Welcome to Carousel Boutique. Where every garment is chic, unique, and magnifique."
>As she begins to lead the well-dressed mare to what seems to be the pricey end of the display, you stand idly for a moment. 
>You wanted to ask a few questions more but then curiosity grips you as you realise Rarity's attention is completely gripped on the sale. 
>A quick glance upstairs then back to the two mares who are both "ooh"ing and "ahh"ing at a shimmering gown spurs your confidence.
-----
>Eagerly, quickly, and most important, quietly, you head upstairs and past a few doors to where you know Rarity's workshop to be. 
>You grip the handle and turn it slowly to open it ever so slightly.
>Inside, sitting before a vanity, Moonie is humming to herself. Her little legs kick about as she turns this what and that to admire her hair. 
>It's done up in a bun, tied with a string of pearls, and little strands billow in their usual ethereal manner to frame her face. 
>But more astonishing is the make up. 
>Cheeks glow with purple blush faintly as her eyelashes flutter. 
>There isn't much more make up so you assume it's a work in progress. 
>Or maybe it is finished. 
>You find yourself wondering about this sort of thing, as clearly you're clueless to it. 
>Then Moonie turns her head once again to notice something in the reflection. She peers closer to eye it carefully and then your eyes meet.
>Moonie takes a great big intake of air before unleashing a great and unearthly scream. 
>The loud screech of a wail hots notes that even a banshee's ears might split. 
>It's enough to send you into a frenzy as you leap down the stairs, three or four steps at a time, and are out the door before Rarity can try to lecture you.

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[70]

>The bed is warm as the thick duvet is wrapped around you in a snug bliss. 
>You drift in and out of sleep, spending most of it in between the two in a strange state of being aware that you're sleeping. It could be seconds ticking by, minutes, or even hours and you'd have no idea as you refuse to let your brain kick into gear. 
>Today is a public holiday, and you intend to spend it catching up on many missed hours of sleep. At least just one or two of them.
>"Anon," mumbles Moonie.
"Mm?"
>You shrug and roll over in hopes that whatever it is, isn't important and that Moonie will let you rest. Silence seems to fall for a moment and you smile inwardly. 
>Then a pillow softly but firmly boops you on the face. 
>Which is unusual for Moonie. 
>Usually she thumps you hard when she is determined to bother you.
"What was that for?"
>"You weren't waking up," she croaks.
"Well, I'm awake now," you yawn as you already plot how to send her away so you can sleep, "No need to wallop me anymore."
>Moonie goes to speak but then something seems to catch her words. 
>You roll back over and jolt upright. Just barely are you missed by the sick spewing from Moonie's mouth and onto your bed.
"Alright, I'm awake," you screech.
>"I don't feel good," she groans.
>Her face looks both pale and green, her eyes look blood-shot and gummed-up, while every fibre of her looks to be giving signs of exhaustion. 
>You scoop her up just in case she decides to lay down and get herself covered in more sick than she already is. 
>You can feel something crusted in her coat and decide against checking. 
>It's already clear she's been like this most of the, if not all, night.
>"Sorry about your bed," she squeaks through her dry throat, "I tried to wake you before."
"All good. Don't worry about that, let's get you into bed--" You adjust her in your arms and feel your hand squelch into some fur. "--Actually, a warm bath might do you some good."
>"That sounds nice," Moonie says before sniffing a few loose strands from her nose.
>You sit her down in the bathroom floor and then get the water flowing.
>"Can I have a hot bath?" she states, her speech distorted from a blocked nose.
"Of course, now watch the water for me for a minute."
>"Yeah, 'kay," Moonie replies weakly.
-----
>With a sense of dread, you step into Moonie's room. 
>Your nostrils are filled with the noxious musk of someone who has spent most of the night sweating. 
>As you inspect the place a quickly, you let out a sigh of relief. Seems your room is the only one with a mess. 
>But you still scoop up her bed sheets and blankets to put in the washer before returning to the bathroom.
>Already the bath is steaming and almost at the right level. With your hand you test the water and opt to run a bit of cold just to even it out. You then push the water along, stirring it all in the basin to spread the cold. 
>Once you're satisfied with the temperature, you shut off the taps and place Moonie in gently. 
>She winces a little from the heat but reassures you it's what she wants. It only takes a moment to adjust to the hot water, so she leans back to soak in bliss.
"I'm going to clean things up a bit. Are you going to be okay?"
>She nods.
"Alright. When I get back, I'll help you wash and then you'll need some medicine, okay?"
>"I don't want any, it tastes gross," she whines wearily.
"I'll make you some tea to have too so it'll wash the taste out."
>Again she nods. 
>Normally you'd expect protests and the usual childish display, but clearly the sick has sapped all energy from her physically and emotionally. 
>Her head hangs low, looking at her feet as the water's waves distort their appearance, then her eyes look up at you in pleading.
>Your heart almost leaps out for her and a voice in your head calls you a monster if you even think to refuse.
"I've got some sour watermelon ones stashed away."
>It's weak, but she smiles. 
>A genuinely warm smile from the idea. 
>Then you leave her to soak for a moment and step into your room. 
>There you scoop up everything that was in the splash zone, and step outside. 
>Using the hose you spray off the 'chunkier' parts before throwing them in the washer with everything else.
>From there, you step into the kitchen and get everything ready. 
>The medicine that sits in the fridge, the kettle is set to boil, the sour watermelon gummies are out, and you are about to grab a blanket from the linen cupboard when you notice it is mostly bare. 
>Save for a few pillow covers and a blanket, you recall you're overdue on laundry day.
>You sigh, and head into the lounge room where you roll out the sofa bed. 
>You make that and then head back into the bathroom. 
>Moonie still lies where you left her, nearly floating in the water. 
>Once she sees you, she sits up and resigns to letting you scrub her over. 
>A few matted clumps of fur give you a bit of trouble but hot water and a firm scrub break it apart.
>"You're not gonna catch my sick, are you?" dryly groans Moonie.
"How?"
>"By being so close and all."
"I'm another species to you," you chuckle, "I've never get sick."
>"Really?"
"Yeah, it'll be a scary day when pony illnesses mutate where I can get infected."
>"What about minotaur germs?"
"How would minotaur ones be different?"
>"Cause you both walk upright," she says flatly.
>You grimace a little at that, feeling somehow slighted at her comment.
"That's not... That's not how any of that works."
>"Ah, okay," she replies, her voice distant as your run shampoo through her coat.
-----
>Once the bath is done, you lift the soaked filly onto the floor and gently dry her with a towel. 
>Afterwards you scoop her up into your arms and begin to carry her to the sofa.
>"You don't have to carry me."
"Oh, my bad--"
>"Well... You might as well now," she adds, clearly feeling a need to get in some brattiness for the day.
>Once you've set her down on the lounge's fold out, you step into the kitchen to prepare the tea and medicine then grab the gummy candy. 
>Moonie does as she's told, taking the medicine but quickly washes it down with some tea.
>"Can you read to me?" Moonie asks.
>For a brief moment, you pause. 
>Thinking over to if your voice, that has still barely woken, is up to the task. 
>Eager to get her way, she mirrors the look from earlier. 
>Hanging her head while her eyes look up at you with pleading. 
>You just chuckle softly as you tuck her into the blanket. 
>Then you grab a book and get in beside her. 
>Moonie gives a little cheer as she cuddles up and digs into her sour gummies while you begin to read.
>You feel that today, you were a good nurse.

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[71]

>The sun bears down its great scorching heat upon you with all the radiance Celestial could muster. It's the kind of heat that seems to bring about a bit of laziness in everyone, or at least tires them out. A few ponies shuffle about, dragging their hooves a little, as they make their way through the day. And you sympathise with them. As you sit beside Pinkie Pie, you think about how doing anything else is the furthest thing in your mind.
"Why is it so hot?" You almost drawl as a side effect of the dehydration you're only now managing to fight off thanks the slush drink Pinkie made.
>"I dunno, Cloudsdale said something about too much rain recently," Pinkie replies while somehow managing to drink the entire time, "Aren't you the Mayor? Why didn't you step in?"
"I'm the Mayor of Ponyville, not Cloudsdale."
>"So?"
>You gesture to the wilder world and are about to get into the dynamic of the relationship between Ponyville and Cloudsdale when it comes to the weather, but give up. The shelter near Sugarcube Corner only does so much. But then, up in the sky nearby, a few pegasi move some clouds around which thankfully provides you two a better shade. There is an immediate sigh of relief as the intensity of the sun is diminished. Now every sip feels invigorating rather than being simple relief.
>"Did you do that?" Pinkie gratefully booms.
"What, how?"
>"With your... Mayoral powers, duh."
"Pinkie, do you have any idea what a Mayor does?"
>"You... Rule things... Like a princess but over a smaller area."
"Not even close," you shrug.
>"What about dad powers then?"
"What are you on about?"
>"Dad powers."
>You pause for a moment to think about what the stone-faced ponk is saying, then shake your head.
"I... I don't get it... Is that a reference or is this really the first time I'm hearing about dads getting superpowers?"
>Pinkie rolls her eyes and clicks her tongue in frustration, "parents can do all sorts of amazing things. Even dads."
"Right, well Moonie isn't one of those weather Pegasus so I doubt I could do anything there."
>Pinkie pouts after having her hopes dashed with you failing to meet some strange and unknown expectations. She says deeper into her seat, sipping away at her drink for a while. The two of you sit in silence for a time until Pinkie's slurping up the final dregs happens. And it goes on. Slurp. Slurp. Sluuuuuuurrrp. Once you glance sideways at her, she stops and grins at you with feigned innocence.
>"I have a question."

"Ask away."
>"How different do you think things would be if you never met Moonie?"
"That's an odd question. Where is this coming from?"
>Pinkie shrugs, "I just had a thought--"
"We," you hastily interject before Pinkie's mouth works up the speed, "don't have to go into the whole thought process."
>"Ok... So?"
"So, what?"
>"What do you think your life would be like without Moonie?"
"I dunno, not that different. But, somehow, I bet you have some wild story on the matter."
>Her shiny white teeth reveal themselves as she beams wildly. You find yourself getting pulled into the thought, and you do get curious what nonsense Pinkie would have made up. Then in the corner of your eye, you notice the approach of three mares.
>"Hey Pink, Anon," calls out Applejack as she, Fluttershy, and Twilight walk over to your shelter, "What are you two talking about?"
"Hypotheticals," you answer flatly.
>Twilight brightens up in glee, AJ's face screws up with confusion, and Fluttershy just gives that same old content but nervous smile she seems to never be without.
>"Anon thinks everything would be the same if he never met Moonie," Pinkie states, her tone of voice suggesting she is personally offended by your statement.
>"I dunno Anon," drawls AJ, "you've changed quite a bit over the years thanks to that little filly."
>While you'd like to correct Pinkie, you were a little curious as to what kind of story she would make up and now it seems like you might get three more. So you leave it be, and try to probe each of them on their ideas.
"So, what do you think it'd be like if I never met her?"
>Pinkie squeeze as she bounces up and down on her seat as if all the energy within is bubbling, getting ready to burst. But as she goes to open her mouth, Applejack begins her tale.

>"You were a little bit of a No-Friend-Ned before.... So I bet you'd get even worse," Applejack states boldly and seemingly oblivious to the fact that some might find that claim offensive. 
>Everyone else glances your way just to check but you smile as Applejack carries on with her story.
>"You'd stay locked deep within your house. We'd only see you a few times a week then in time that would be a few times a month but then you'd get so lonely and depressed that you wouldn't even leave for food. Deciding you'd rather stay inside forever, all alone. Ponies would have to deliver food to you, either some groceries for you or maybe even leave a tray of some home cooked meal for you."
"Do you really think I was that bad?" You chuckle at the idea but then you start to take her seriously when she doesn't join.
>We almost never saw you," she solemnly replies.
"Applejack, I worked at your farm on occasion."
>"Exactly! Hardly ever," adds Applejack.
>"And at Sugarcube Corner," Pinkie adds.
>"You were always borrowing books at the library," says Twilight.
>"Oh, um, and..."
>Fluttershy was about to add but gets overwhelmed with shyness when everyone suddenly turns to her.
"And," you mention on her behalf, "I'd help Fluttershy with her animals, particularly ones in the Everfree."
>Applejack looks around at all her friends before realising she is outnumbered on her opinion. Her body deflates a little, she lets out a sigh, and concedes.
>"Well, I guess. But you did work a lot."
"Yeah but I wasn't that bad," you scoff.

>In an attempt to quickly move onto the next subject, as if it could somehow stop the mood from getting worse, you turn to Twilight who notices your gaze even if she is miles away.
>"Hm?" She sys but it's clear only part of her has returned from wherever she was.
"You look like you were working on a story there. Or were you somewhere else?"
>She nods. And then you feel a sense of dread as she straightens up, clears her throat, and takes on that general aura she always has when she is about to go on a long winded talk.
>"Most likely," she begins in her lecturing voice.
>You spy Pinkie take a deep breath and lay her head on the bench in sorrow as she also tries to find the willpower to wait patiently for her turn. Watching the deflated pink party pony does make you feel a little sympathetic, but at the same time you end up looking forward to her idea more. Especially as even now, Twilight is droning on about the evidence she has to support the story she's about to say.
>"Ahem."
"I'm listening, Twi'," as you turn your attention back to her to see her staring with a raised brow.
>It's clear she doesn't quite believe you. As she eyes you carefully, you do your best to look innocent.
>"Very well. So, the way I see it playing out then, you'd have never become the Mayor. This leaves Minister Mare to remain as Mayor Mare, constantly stressed with her workload and in desperate need of an assistant. In fact, if we go back more, you'd never have gotten that steady job at Sugarcube Corner. Meaning you'd still be doing odd jobs for everypony, living your life without being tied down. But no pony can live like that for long without becoming restless. And so you'd save your bits, before setting out and about to travel the world. Only, you don't know much about our world and would most likely end up lost somewhere or in prison in some other country due to offending them."
>Everyone looks on at Twilight as she gets carried away, but then her eyes widen as a new thought occurs to her. The group are all startled when she suddenly gasps loudly from shock.
>"Actually, how many out there in the world know about you? Likely you'd be treated like some kind of alien, or animal."
"Well, yes... I am an alien here."
>"No, you don't get it. Not everyone out there is as inclusive and accepting as pony society. You could end up in a zoo, on a scientist's slab to be dissected and examined, or worse as food as some bigger creature. What if someone tried poaching you to make a one-of-a-kind leather saddlebag."
>Twilight carries on inventing increasingly crazy and horrid things to happen to you in the hypothetical world where you go wandering. As everyone exchanges looks, you wonder if Twilight secretly has a sadistic side as she seems unable to get out of that loop.

>With a wiz, Pinkie appears behind everyone to shout. Likely about how it's finally her turn, but once Fluttershy's tiny little voice manages to squeak out, Pinkie shoves a hoof in her mouth before zipping back to her seat to mope.
>"I guess it's, um, my turn. Right?"
"Go for it 'Shy," you say with a sideways smile at Pinkie who responds by poking her tongue at you.
>"Um, well, it's small really. But without Moonie around, I think Anon would grow more attached to the animals of the Everfree and probably move in there. Becoming a, uh, well, um, a hermit of sorts."
>There's a silence before anyone realises that was all she had.
>"I don't see Anon being the hermit type," Applejack ponders aloud.
"Oh, but a shut-in to the point of starvation is?" You mock.
>AJ's face whips around to scowl at your smirk but neither of you say anything as it's still sort of Fluttershy's turn.
>"I think it'd be," Fluttershy stammers, "nice."
"Yeah, that sounds more like something you want to do," you mention as you direct a smile AJ's way who returns it.
>"Anon please, she already is as close as it gets to an Everfree hermit without actually being one. Don't give her the final push," scolds AJ in a jovial manner.

>"MY TURN," bursts Pinkie Pie, causing everyone to jolt up a bit.
>"Without Moonie's mischief and minor evils around to need to be in constant check, Anon himself would forget to keep his own... Urges in check," Pinkie tells everyone in an overly sinister way, "He'd turn into the villainous  Anon von Doom. With a hooded cloak and everything."
>You laugh aloud but it does nothing to break Pinkie's swing of things.
>"He'd go around terrorising little colts, abducting young fillies, and plotting world domination. The constant thorn in our heroes' side, the elements of harmony, Anon would be immune to the magic of friendship as he have abandoned his heart long ago."
"I feel like you've thought this out before today," you remark in surprise.
>"Anon, that's awful," AJ murmurs in horror.
"What?"
>"You shouldn't... become a villain," squeaks Fluttershy in a quivering ball.
>"Yeah Anon," Twilight says, finally out of her trance of you centred misfortune, "What the hell?"
"Oh. Very funny," you finally say as you catch on.
>Everyone shares a bit of a chuckle at the idea of you being a villain before they then all look your way. There's a moment before Pinkie gestures to you expectantly.
>"Alright, now you."
"Me?"
>"Yeah, what do you think would change? Really."
>You give it some thought briefly but then shrug. But you don't answer right away. It feels like while everyone was going on with their stories you were thinking about it. Though as like a kind of background thought. Possibilities come to the forefront of your mind. Some are silly and unlikely like everyone else's stories but you find yourself gravitating towards the more serious and likely.
"Again, I don't think much would change at all," you begin meaningfully by sitting up, "I mean... I don't think work-wise it'd be any different. I got that steady job at Sugarcube Corner because the cakes asked me, that had nothing to do with Moonie."
>You look towards Pinkie who nods to confirm it.
"And then when I lost that job, though I'll admit I got the job in the Mayor's office thanks to Moonie but she was on the list of places I was going to look for a steady job. So that one could have gone either way I suppose. And Minister Mayor's promotion had nothing to do with Moonie either. So I think I'd still be mayor in the end."
>As you return from your world of thinking aloud, you notice a couple unimpressed looks.
>"Well, what would change then?" Twilight replies in monotone.
"We already established that I wasn't as bad as AJ thinks, and nobody believed I'd be a forest hermit. So, yeah, more or less the same."
>"That's dull," whines Pinkie.
>And they all nod in agreement so you concede to say a little more.
"Okay, fine... I can think of something. I'd be pretty lonely and," you pause to give it more thought, " I'd never know this kind of feeling."
>"What feeling?" they all ask in unison.
>You shrug once more. Unfortunately, you're a little unsure of how to put it into words. Various titles and descriptions flick through your mind but none seem to fit. Not properly. They don't seem to do it justice or paint the idea of what you want to say. And even going into a lengthy discretion doesn't seem like it would work either. But you take a breath to steel yourself to declare what would be the closest to that feeling, and you end up getting a little nervous as you've never admitted this aloud.
"I wouldn't really know... what it feels like to have a family."

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[72]

>"We're here," states the gruff voice in the dark as it rips the tape from Gruff MacIronbeard's mouth.
>Gruff MacIronbeard looked up at his assailant. Dark and matted fur covered the minotaur's large build. Like a distant fiery star, one red eye looked down at him as the other was covered by a leather eye patch to hide the wound Gruff gave to him so many years ago.
>"Ah, I was wondering what happened to you after Saddle Arabia, Maddox 'Mad Bull' Musclehorn."
>The hitminotaur grinned, his yellowed teeth dimly flashing in the pitch blackness of the night.
>"Yes, you should have buried my entire body. Vultures can be rather... Helpful with the right motivation it seems."
>The large and menacing hitminotaur smiled once again before his big arms gripped Gruff MacIronbeard and pulled him out from the carriage boot.
>"And don't try anything," and exasperated Maddox 'Mad Bull' Musclehorn added while revealing a magical scroll, "This fireball will leave you unrecognisable, I daresay as it will singe more than your coat."
>Gruff MacIronbeard gritted his teeth before being lead into the woods, his arms bound tightly behind him. Leaves and twigs rustled and snapped underhoof as they ventured deeper. Once they were in a ways, Maddox 'Mad Bull' Musclehorn suddenly pulled loose on the rope before shoving Gruff MacIronbeard forward hard enough to stumbled and fall to his knees. Just as Gruff MacIronbeard was about to turn around to fight, Maddox 'Mad Bull' Musclehorn waved the scroll a little.
>"Uh-ah-ah." Maddox 'Mad Bull' Musclehorn grinned wildly, the pleasure etched on every crease of his smile.
>That's when Gruff MacIronbeard noticed beside him stood a shovel, planted partway into the ground.
>"Yes, I'll have to get you to dig a couple feet."
>"That's cold," Gruff MacIronbeard replied, referring more to that just the night air as his muscles tensed visibly in anger.
>Maddox 'Mad Bull' Musclehorn sighed, "Look, first I had to subdue you, drive us all the way out here, and I've got to bury you afterwards. It's tiring work, the least you could do is help me out."
>Gruff MacIronbeard furrows his brow as Gruff MacIronbeard gives it some thought but ultimately, his sympathy gives out and Gruff MacIronbeard proceeded to dig. Feeling more relieved about his lightened to-do list, Maddox 'Mad Bull' Musclehorn leans against a nearby tree to revel in the silence. Save for Gruff MacIronbeard's grunts and shovelling.
>"You've ticked off quite a few griffons, you know."
>"Yeah? I don't recall doing anything special down that way."
>"Well, maybe not. But all your interference in Yak-Yakistan caused a few issues with them. Seems they had some kind of plan."
>"Are you sure you should be telling me this, just ratting your clients out like that?" Gruff MacIronbeard grunts.
>"I'm not worried. It's not like you'll be doing anything about it. But, it seems they know about our... shared history. Two birds, one stone. It must be fate," Maddox 'Mad Bull' Musclehorn looks skyward with a smirk.
>And that's when Gruff MacIronbeard shovels a head of dirt right over his shoulder and into Maddox 'Mad Bull' Musclehorn's face. As Maddox 'Mad Bull' Musclehorn coughs and splutters Maddox 'Mad Bull' Musclehorn doesn't notice the firm iron shovel swinging at high speed directly into his face. Even if Maddox 'Mad Bull' Musclehorn is on the floor and in a daze, Gruff MacIronbeard wastes no time, Gruff MacIronbeard is up and out of the hole before darting off to the carriage.
-----
>"What are you doing? Keep reading," Moonie excitedly shrieks as she shakes you by the collar.
"Look at the time."
>"Forget the time. I need to know what happens to Gruff."
"Tomorrow. It's bed time."
>"No," Moonie screams and struggles as you lift her up.
"And I think you mean Gruff MacIronbeard. Not Gruff."
>"What?"
>With Moonie slung under one arm, you glance at the pages of the book again.
"You never notice how they always say a characters full name?"
>"That's... Just Minotaur mannerisms or something. Now read more."
"Bed," you reply flatly in your 'parental' voice.
>"You can't just read an action packed Minotaur book and expect me to sleep part way."
"Well, then no more reading it before bed."
>"Okay!" She yields.
-----
>You place the unresistant filly on the floor and she slumps off to the bathroom for a minute then returns. Suspicious of her, you kneel down.
"Breath."
>"What? Don't you trust me?"
"To brush? No. Breath."
>Moonie rolls her eyes and gives a heavy breathe in your face. The minty freshness of toothpaste is strong but that smug smirk gives her away. It's not the kind of smug one uses when they've won, it's the kind of smug you would put on when you're confident in a plan.
"What's the new trick?"
>Moonie's face freezes in place. Then after a moment's silence, she sulks.
>"I thought eating some would work." 
"While I admire the persistence and constant creativity, if you don't start brushing them I'll do it for you."
>"Okay, okay."
>This time you lean in the doorway and watch her. She pokes a mint foamed tongue at your reflection while brushing. You just smile back.
-----
>Then once she is done, you follow her into her room where you tuck her into bed.
>"Hey, Anon?" 
>Her voice is rather soft. A not a tired kind of soft either, though she did yawn. It draws your attention and alarms you a little. But the dad in you can't resist.
"Hello Moonie."
>She rolls her eyes and whines, "Anon."
"Yes?"
>"When is your birthday exactly?"
"You're only just now asking?"
>The filly merely shrugs.
"I don't know to be perfectly honest. The months and days in the year are different. I have no idea how I'd transfer the day over. Why, is Pinkie planning a party for me?"
>Her silence gives it away.
"Don't worry, I'll act surprised."
>"The thing what I wanted to know is, why is it a different day every year. Pinkie says it's a secret."
"There's no special reason behind it," you chuckle, "She just figured if she does one party on every day of the year then she is bound to have gotten it right at least once. Though twice now she has thrown two on the same year so you can never tell."
>"Oh," Moonie's remarks dejectedly, clearly expecting something a bit more. "So, how old are you then?"
"You know, it's rude to ask a gentlemen his age."
>"That's only for ladies," she defiantly replies in that childish arrogance that refuses to be tricked by an adult, "And you're not a gentleman."
"You wound me so," you dramatically retort as you clutch your chest.
>"How old are you?" She repeats with a sing-song whine.
"Why? Is it important?"
>She shakes her head no and then covers herself a little further under the blanket, giving a partial roll away from you. You give a tisk and then pull her back.
>"I'm just asking," she responds dismissively, "You are old after all."
>A quiet calm fills the room. Even the crickets outside that normally are busily chirping away can barely be heard. You take a breath as you wonder exactly what the issue could be, even thinking on this morning. You've got a decent guess but still, this entire thing caught you unawares. Unable to definitely put your finger on it, you try some words of comfort.
"You know... When you're young you feel like you'll live forever. But... that does seem like forever ago now. Though, I'm not going anywhere yet. I've still got many, many years ahead. Actually... I'm going to live forever. I've just decided. Or at least a thousand or so years. Just to see what happens."
>"You're being silly," Moonie pokes her tongue at you.
"Heh, yeah. Anyway, Goodnight Moonie."
>"Goodnight, Anon. Sweet dreams."
"You too," you reply as you give her a soft peck on the forehead.

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[73]

>"What do you mean?" Barks Moonie, puzzlement etched on her face.
>You shrug.
"I dunno. I don't remember any of them, but Luna said they were weird."
>"She never told you about them?"
"I asked a few times but she would just tell me to go away," you shrug once more.
>"So, I can't then?"
"I'm not saying that, only giving you some kind of forewarning. Luna said she never went into my dreams again after the a few times."
>In the surprise, Moonie scampers a little on the spot that reminds you of an over excited puppy.
>"Tonight?" She beams.
"You're eager."
>"Come on," she pleads in the trademark manner that only kids seem to do to get their way.
"It seems unlike you to ask so nicely."
>"Tonight," she corrects herself into an authoritative bellow, "Your queen orders it."
"Hmm, I think I prefer the manners."
>"Tonight," she repeats more sternly.
>It's late and you find yourself struggling to sleep for a while. It didn't help that twice Moonie stomped in to demand you fall asleep that instant, which led to a small argument on how easy it is to fall asleep with a filly screaming at you. Obviously you won, even if Moonie disagrees. Eventually sleep claims you.
-----
>It's cold. The harsh air blows its winter gale with a force that could only be described as the anger of some winter deity. It feels as if you were to stretch yourself outwards, the wind could scoop you up and blow you to who knows where. Then the wind dies down as if said deity had the wind knocked out of them. You look up and see that the wind hasn't stopped at all. It's more like you're now in some sort of snowglobe. All the snow is blowing around you now, and even the sound of the wind is deafened. At your feet beams a little filly.
"How did you do that?"
>"It's a dream," she scoffs and gives you a look as if you were the town fool, "You can do just about anything if you've got the imagination."
"Oh, I thought it was magic."
>"I'm here, that's kind of where the magic ends."
"Right," you say as you rub your hands to get a little feeling back into them.
>"Then again, it's always a little harder for the dreamer. It's got something to do with the subconscious being like another mind at this point. I don't really know, this was Luna's thing."
"Has she been teaching you this or anything?"
>Moonie shakes her head, "No. I only know a bit of it because of the time we shared a body."
"Right."
>There's a moment of silence as you try to think of what to say next. Somehow, something like "Welcome to the deeper recesses of my mind that I don't really understand" doesn't feel appropriate. You also feel like you should have asked why she wanted to do this and what she was hoping to get out of it when you were awake. Those questions feel too late right about now.
>"This is oddly vivid," comments Moonie as she lifts some snow and shakes it as all the individual bits flutter to the ground.
"Oddly?"
>"Yeah, well... For most, everything is blocky, hazy, and incomplete. The mind if supposed to be resting after all, and there's no point dreaming something you're not heading to in a dream. It doesn't work that way."
"The mountains over there are blurry."
>"Yeah, but there's a blizzard. It's supposed to be blurry. This though," she shows up another hoof of snows that trickles down just like real snow, "Is far too realistic. Who dreams all the individual bits of snow up?"
"I do, I guess. My dreams are usually pretty vivid, at least the ones I recall."
>Moonie's fascination with the snow ends just as she notices a big shadowy figure off in the blizzard approaches you two in the bubble.
"We can't get hurt in dreams, can we?"
>"No. But you'll think you do."
"I don't follow."
>With your attention focused on the approaching figure, Moonie balances on her forelegs so she can lift her hindlegs and kick you like you were some kind of apple tree. With a sharp and pained yelp, you tumble to the floor as your legs gives out in surprise.
>"Relax. It didn't hurt your body. But in here, you think you got hurt. Make sense now?" She smiles a smile that shows she enjoyed that much more than any normal pony would.
"You better hope I don't remember this dream," you grumble while getting back to your feet.
>It's at that moment the two of you notice the figure is now standing in the bubble with you. It's tall. Very tall. And hairy. As well as grinning.
>"A yeti?" a confused Moonie mutters through clenched teeth.
>The yeti looks from you to Moonie, still smiling widely.
"Uh, hello... Miss Yeti." You finally say.
>"Miss? How can you tell?"
>You're about to point out how, but looking at the yeti you find no clear features. The big ball of fur is so big and furry that it's impossible to discern any shape that could possibly be going on underneath.
"I don't know, just a guess."
>"Well, you should know your own mind. Hello Miss Yeti."
>The yeti's grin widens. Then it gestures for the two of you to follow before turning around and walking away.
"Should we?" You ask.
>Moonie shrugs, "What else would we do?"
>And so, the two of you follow.
-----
>Miss yeti leads you both higher into the mountain and into a cave where you're safe from the blizzard outside. But after only a few steps, it gets far too dark for you to see.
"I can't see a thing."
>"Then imagine some light," scolds Moonie.
>A small flicker of light hums not too far away in the cave. Then it glows again, its dim light barely illuminating the yeti's face as she blows on it gently. A few more puffs and the fire begins to grow, crackling a couple times as more of the tinder burns. Miss yeti watches over the fire, adding a couple pieces of kindling to get the flame big enough to light her own torch.
>"See, this is what I mean," an annoyed Moonie gripes.
"What?" You reply defensively, already knowing where this will go.
>"Who dreams up this much detail? Why can't she just produce a light, maybe the cave has magical torches, or glow worms, or maybe even we could just see in the dark. It's a dream. We should have to stand here while a yeti lights a torch."
>You shrug. Which annoys Moonie even more. She grumbles and mutters under her breath as the two of you wander deeper into the caves. There's some twists and turns that means you have no idea where you're going or even how deep you've gone. But then, just as it seems the cave's network would run on forever, a chill breeze begins to flow down the cave and getting colder slowly as you walk on. Then you see the light at the end of the tunnel.
>Stepping out, the bright light takes a minute to adjust to. You're inside a valley. Up above the blizzard can be seen raging on but the intense wind blows most of the snow over it. The yeti makes a few grunts to grab your attention and gestures for you to follow.
-----
>You've clearly been lead to a yeti village. Little igloos dot the strip. A few yeti can be seen going about their business, stealing a few glances at the newcomers but otherwise not paying too much attention. They've got little stalls, you notice. And one yeti can be seen hanging out some fur suits on a line. Small yeti children run around and play some unknowable game that involves snowball throwing. Then you notice a few humans around the place too. One, a human female wanders over to follow you.
>Then you walk into the back of the yeti. First you apologise, then look around and see the shoes poking out from the ground as if people had been planted like crops. There's a lot.
>"This is the future of yeti-kind," Miss yeti explains in a rather posh and well-spoken accent.
"Uh," you stammer for a few seconds from the surprise then without any idea of what to say, you just ask the first question that comes to mind, "And what future is that exactly?"
>"Well, you see, it's nearly impossible to live up here. With all the snow we can't grow anything, and human kind wont accept us. They call us monsters."
>"Is this something that actually happened where you come from?" Moonie suddenly asks with a clear readiness for gullible belief.
>While you do want to mess with her a little, you're a little too focused on the situation to go for it.
"Nope. No idea where this comes from."
>Moonie looks a little dejected but the yeti continues.
>"So, what we are doing is capturing humans and using yeti magic to plant out minds in theirs," the human female from before states as she steps forward to stand beside Miss yeti, "This way we can immigrate in peace."
>"This is weird," Moonie groans.
"So... You're stealing human bodies? With magic?"
>"Yes," the yeti inside the human girl nods, "but don't worry, the human mind is still safe and sound. They just aren't in control."
>"No," says Moonie flatly, "I am out."
"What are you worried about? I thought you couldn't get hurt in dreams?"
>"Yes, but I'm not going through that experience. I'll see you in the morning."
>And with that, Moonie fades away. Leaving you alone in the yeti camp.
-----
>The following morning you wake up and try to recall your dream. Nothing but a haze comes to mind. There's the feeling of cold and confusion that remains but remnants of what you might have felt are no help. So groggily, you get up and wander into Moonie's room.
"You don't look so good," you remark once you see the weary filly in bed.
>She just grunts her reply. It's the kind of grunt that says ''I'm too tired to open my mouth so this is all I'll say.''
"How was the dream? What was it?"
>Moonie sits up and stares at you in irritation.
>"You don't remember?" She croaks."
>You shake your head.
>"Go away," she adds as she slams her head back into her pillow.

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[74]

>Tak-tek-tik-tok-tuuuuuuuk.
>You scratch your forehead a little as you think of what to type on your brand new type writer. It's no computer what with pony technology being uniquely behind in some aspects but on par with your old world in some way. But it does the trick.
>"Whatcha doing?" Asks Moonie in the trademark sing-song voice that any bored child does when they decide to inflict themselves upon a nearby busy adult.
"Testing to see if this or the old one would be better to take to work."
>"Work?" Moonie asks in disgusted confusion.
"Work," you nod solemnly.
>"You're always working."
"Look, you always bring this up and you know I don''t just work."
>"Seems like it," prods Moonie, hoping to irk you a little more.
"Mhm."
>Moonie clicks her tongue in frustration and them thinks for a bit. Most likely to think on way to bother you some more but you pay it no attention for the time being.
>Tak-tek-tik-tok-tuuuuuuuk
>"When you think about it, you are always busy."
>This gives you a bit of pause. You lean back in your chair to reflect a little.
"Yeah, usually... Why?"
>Moonie shrugs in that way that suggests she does actually know why and this air of ignorance is just for show. A show to irk you just slightly. And it does. Just slightly.
>"Well, you work a lot. And if you're not working then you're doing housework, reading, looking after me, or sometimes helping out in town. Never ever just sitting down and relaxing."
"Not true. When we camped in the backyard, we sat for a bit and stargazer. That was relaxing."
>"Yeah," she replies drawing out it like she isn't convinced, "but that was ages ago, and we did that because I wanted to."
"So?"
>"When was the last time you relaxed because you wanted to?"
>You tilt your head to the side and squint while you think. Mentally, the time rewinds back days then weeks, months then years. Nothing comes to mind. Okay, so maybe you've taken a breather here and there. Like a minute or two to compose yourself, catch your breath, or to think on what to do next. But do they count?
>"It's got to be more than a few minutes. Say, twenty at least," adds Moonie, with eyes that looks as if she were reading your mind.
"Then..."
>"Never?"
"Not that I can think of. I mean, I could and just don't remember it."
>"I should knight you as Sir Anonymous the Restless."
"Very funny."
>She giggles to herself and pokes a tongue out to jeer a little more.
"Reading counts as relaxing. And sometimes spending time with you is."
>"Aren't you sweet?"
>You lob the chair pillow at her. She dodges by leaping up onto the couch where she lies down like some kind of lion proudly reigning over the land.
>"But really," Moonie continues. This time her voice is more serious, "Don't you ever want to take it easy for a while?"
"I do."
>"I mean, just do nothing for a bit. Let time pass you by or something."
You shrug, "Not really, no. I like... Doing something, even if it's little. Like reading, hanging with someone, or even watching someone do something. I get restless otherwise."
>"Hmm," Moonie ponders, "Fair enough."
>There's a moment of silence for some time. Part of you was waiting for Moonie to say something more so when you realise that was it, you speak up.
"Why?"
>You notice that she was resting her head on her forelegs with her eyes closed. At the sound of your voice, Moonie opens one eye.
>"Why what?"
"Why were you pointing out how busy I always am?"
>She shrugs then closes her eyes once again. But you're not willing to let her out of it, at least not easily. Moonie's motives are, by nature, easy to discern. 
"Do you miss spending time with me?" You tease.
>"Very funny," she replies without opening her eyes.
>Silence falls once again as you find yourself unable to think of how to approach the topic, or even what exactly you're trying to get out of it. A few times a sentence bubbles to the surface but disappears from your mind before you can say it. Unable to think of what to say, you spin back to your type writer. In the corner of your eye you notice Moonie open a single eye once again.
"I get antsy doing nothing. It doesn't matter what it is, I feel better when something is happening."
>"I get that," flatly answers the napping filly.
"But I like your company either way."
>"Yeah?"
"Yeah. It's kind of like spending time together, even if we never say a word."
>"Hm," grunts Moonie as she smiles while adjusting her position to a more comfier one for a nap.
>Once she wakes a little while later, she grabs her toys and plays with them on the floor nearby which you can't resist smiling to yourself at. Both of you content in doing your own separate thing, but together, in good company.

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[74]

>After a long day at work, sometimes you like to just fall onto the couch and lie there for a while. You never get to, not really, on account of Moonie's relentless efforts to make sure you never enjoy anything, but you would like it if you could.
>"This isn't looking good, Nurse Trixie," grumbles Moonie as she moves her string stethoscope up and down your back.
>"What is it, Doctor?" Grins Trixie as she acts a little more cooperatively than is normal for her.
>"I'm afraid the patient won't make it through the day."
"I am awake, you know," you add, your voice  getting muffled from laying face down.
>"The patient has a chronic case of Dork syndrome."
>Trixie dramatically gasps.
"Thank you for that," you groan into leather.
>"Surely there's something we can do."
>"His only hope, is this," beams Moonie's as she thumps down a glass of something green.
>You tilt your head slightly to peer with one eye to see it bubble just once before settling back into something that resembles a liquid.
"I'm not drinking that."
>The two mares exchange a look and nod. They slyly move to either side of you, Trixie at the foot of you while Moonie is at the head. Then without any signal, they use their magic to grip your limbs. Naturally, you immediately begin to struggle violently but the firm magic vice around your arms and legs only allow your mid-section to flail about.
>"Here comes the aeroplane," chimes cheery Moonie as she pressed the glass to your lips which you keep thightly clamped shut.
>"Grab his head too," Trixie bellows maliciously.
>"I'm not that great at multiple things," Moonie answers as she tries pry open your upper lip with the glass.
>"Fine," whines Trixie with an over the top roll of the eyes, "I'll do it."
>Moonie holds the glass back a bit as she waits for Trixie so you decide there will be no better opportunity. Summoning all your authority as one of those parental figures and shout.
"Miss Nightmare Moon, if you don't stop this instant then you are grounded for a month."
>And it does the trick. Moonie steps back in the shock, releases her magic, yells back in horror, A month? That's not fair," and notices the glass she let go of just in time to leap forward and catch it before it hits the floor.
>"Ah, look what you did," shrieks Trixie as you scamper to your feet.
"Do you want to be grounded too?" 
>"You can't ground me... Can you?"
>"Hang on, 'too'? I stopped, you can't ground me."
"Either of you want to bet?"
>The two mare cower slightly and exchange a look, both are unwilling to be the one who presses the big, red shiny button of doom.
"What is in that?"
>"We'll never tell," stammers Moonie in a last ditch effort for defiance.
>"Something we found in the back of the fridge that smelt like the clumped fur on a yak's backside, deodorant, and a laxative."
>"Traitor," bellows Moonie while leaping onto Trixie with the goal of forcing her to drink the dubious liquid.
>The two don't fight for long as you lift them both up in a arm each and carry them up the hallway. You dump Trixie in the kitchen.
"You're cleaning the dishes--"
>"WHAT! THE GREAT AND POW--"
"And if you argue, then I'll ban you from using magic and charge you double the value of everything you break."
>Trixie trips over her own tongue trying to kill the momentum of rebellion and resign before she makes her fate any worse, result in the kind of sound a balloon makes as it deflates.
>"The resourceful, and ever helpful, Trixie is happy to do the dishes."
>As you turn to head up the hallway, Moonie and Trixie poke their tongues at one another. While you don't see it, you know it happens. Neither could possibly resist the urge to taunt anyone, let alone one another.
"And you'll be cleaning this," you declare as you drop Moonie into the bathroom.
>"WHAT?! This is so much more effort than hers."
"If get some of it done, and done properly, then I'll get Trixie to help you with it."
>Being the type who will endure any misfortune if it means dragging someone else down with her, Moonie sets to work with malicious glee. Content you've done something productive for once, you go back into the lounge room to relax on the couch. The echoes of scrubbing can be heard in the background. For a moment, you zone out and decide to enjoy the drink beside you before spending the rest of the evening stuck on the toilet.

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[75]

>"ANON," thunders a shocked Moonie as she barrels down the hallway to bursts into your room, swinging the door so hard it smacks the wall and slams itself shut under the force.
"Yes?"
>"Where are you?"
"Here," you call as you slid out from under the bed with a few dirty clothes in hand.
>"What are you doing?"
"Cleaning, what else does it look like?"
>Moonie looks perplexed and shakes her head in that typical judgemental way that all children seem to do when they forget that there are responsibilities in life.
>"It's your day off."
"And I only get one a week, so I want to get a few things done around the house."
>"But... It's your day off," she repeats heavy-handedly as if her obvious message didn't get through.
>You sigh a little and rub your eyes as you feel the beginning of a headache.
"Yes, yes. Is there are reason you came in here?"
>"Well, yes, but this is more important--"
"If I get a few things done today then it gives me more time to take a load off after work," you interject, raising your voice to a stern drone, "Now what did you need?" 
>Moonie scampers on the spot a little as the internal debate rages over if she should let it go or not. Thankfully, her own desires win out.
>"Alright, I need you to help me cause a little mayhem."
>You open your mouth to speak, not exactly sure what to say but it would definitely be a lecture of some kind, before Moonie adds hastily.
>"I'm behind quota."
"Okay... I'll ask. What quota?"
>"Well, I have--One sec."
>Then the filly sprints out of the room, violently throwing the door open again. 
>Exasperated, you check that the door stopper is still holding strong. While you never had them before because slamming doors was oddly something Moonie didn't do, you saw a couple in the clearance bin the other week. 
>So you bought a few and now it seems that because you have them Moonie will swing every door open with a strength only usually attributed to a demon. It's like she wants to break them. Well, she already broke the one on her door.
>When you hear the little pitter-patter of tiny feet, you hold the door open. Moonie enters while looking up at you with scorn for spoiling her fun.
>"I've got a log book of all the malarkey, jokes, pranks, traps, mischief, mayhem, chaos, evil, and torture I've done in the past few years."
>She places the big leather-bound book on the floor and looks at you as while you raise a brow.
"Torture?"
>"I'll admit, I've not done anything like that since the tickle torture of pipsqueak on playground. But I need to keep that column going just in case."
"Right," you mumble.
>Moonie grabs a little ribbon bookmark and pulls it open to skip every other page.
>"Look, I've done barely anything this week."
>You scan the pages over and sure enough, all the little jokes Moonie has played are written down alongside names of who got it. Internally, you set a reminder to track this book down when she is out of the house. It could make for a very informative read.
"Replaced insides of Anon's choc-mint cookies with toothpaste?"
>Moonie freezes, "Uh, I thought you already had one this morning."
"Nope."
>"I'll get you some new ones?"
"You will. Now what's this about a quota?"
>"Well, I have a reputation to keep up. If everypony treats me like you do, none will believe me when it is time for me to return to power and overthrow the sister princesses."
>She gives an 'evil' cackle. It's like a mildly mischievous cackle however. The old evil and sinister schadenfreude isn't there anymore. 
>Sure she might claim she's "only playing along with this parent/child thing to throw the sisters off her tail," that she is the "queen of the night, all evil, and nightmares," and still bellows about ruling Equestria once again but it all lacks conviction. 
>All of Moonie's 'evil' comes across instead as a childish persona and a way to guard herself against anything sweet or nice.
>You recall a story about a kid who refused to take his batman costume off because he wanted to be the hero so much. 
>It even went so far as the child started punching other kids at daycare to "fight justice." 
>Then you laugh at the recollection because sometimes Moonie pulls out her little armour set and does pretty much the same thing. 
>It's a fight for a couple days to get her out of it, she always stinks from sweating in that armour.
>"What's so funny?"
"Nothing, nothing," you think for a moment and then decide that the odds and ends around the house can wait, "Alright, do you have any ideas for a bit of mischief?"
>Moonie beams at you, nods, then scurries off to get another book. 
>"Reputation?" you scoff to yourself.
>The reputation Moonie thinks she has and the way the Ponyville ponies think of here are nothing alike. With jokes, pranks, and a little bullying, Moonie is often regarded as pretty much harmless. Even Pipsqueak's parents, whose son is often on the receiving end of Moonie's antics, think she is "Just a playful little dear." 
>Bon-Bon and Moonie have an ongoing gag where Bon-Bon pays a tribute to Moonie to spare her candy shop. But it's always a single small piece of candy and usually something newly imported, freshly made, or not yet stocked so she can get opinions on it.
>Back when Minister Mare was Mayor Mare, she would con Moonie into helping out under the guise of "teaching her to rule Equestria efficiently."
>Once Moonie returns with a book so thick it could only be described as a tome, you start to second guess encouraging this sort of behaviour. But at the same time, it's relatively harmless. However, it's going to be a long day.

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[76]

>You wander into your home, feeling slightly out of it. As you're putting things away where they belong, you notice your glasses are looking dirty.
"Over due for a clean, I guess," you murmur as you set them on the sink.
>The clicking of little hooves trying poorly to sneak on hardwood floors echoes as Moonie peers into the kitchen.
>"Oh, you're home early."
>You glance at the clock before you realise setting them forward slipped your mind last night.
"Actually it's daylight savings, I'll need to fix all the clocks in the house in a moment."
>"So... Does this mean we lose or gain an hour?"
"Gain," you reply flatly while rinsing a few things.
>Moonie audibly gasps with excitement and you can see her already trembling with excitement.
>"This means you'll be home earlier all the time."
You chuckle, "No."
>She quickly scowls at you, "What? You don't want an extra hour of praising your queen each day?"
"I might get home an hour early but I'll also be leaving an hour early."
>"Why?" asks a genuinely confused filly.
"Because that's how daylight savings works."
>"But we're supposed to gain an hour," she explains in one of those patronising tones used when dealing with someone 'slow.'
"Aren't you like over a thousand years old? How do you not know about how daylight savings works?" You ask irritably.
>"Well, I was a little distant with things for a while."
"Right," you answer, feeling like you put your foot in it a bit.
>"Can we have pizza for dinner?" Moonie's voice comes across as aloof and slightly monotone, which seems to hammer in a bit more of that guilt.
"Sure," you resign with a sigh as you turn around to see a toothy, "gotcha" kind of grin.
>"Too late, you said yes. You can't take it back," she shouts triumphantly.
>Your eyes narrow and her grin grows.
"Oh, you are in for it."
>Moonie stance swiftly drops into a ready position so that the second you move she will sprint towards her room. The two of you hang there, frozen in time almost. Then you ask which pizza she wants knowing that even though she is the type to always get one of two things, she has to look at the menu stuck on the fridge before making a decision. You remain still, refusing to break eye contact but you notice Moonie's will and eyesight waver.
>"Truce?"
>You flick your head in the direction of the fridge. Moonie hesitates then looks at the menu. Then her eyes widen as she realises something.
>"That wasn't a nod," she screams. Too late.
>You've already scooped her up into your vice-like grip in one arm to tickle her with the other until her giggles turn into a screech. The pizza you got later was good.

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[77]

>It's a day like any other. The birds are chirping, the sun is shining, and Moonie is being rather quiet so that means something is about to or has gone wrong. Idly, you wander about the house looking for her before you hear her and Trixie's voice echoing in the bathroom. Curious, you eavesdrop outside the door.
>"There's no way that'll happen," Moonie scoffs in a derisive tone.
>"It's true. Trixie has seen the future herself. One day we'll all be eating out of tubes, it'll be quick and have all our daily nutrients in one little tube."
>"But... Why?"
>Trixie shrugs, "Why not? If you're getting all your protein and whatever in a tube then you don't have to eat veggies. Why, you could eat candy all day because you've already gotten everything else."
>Moonie brightens up at this, "That makes sense."
>The two are quiet for a moment as they look over a tube of toothpaste.
>"Try it."
>"Why?"
>"To practice," Trixie answers with a condescending eye roll.
>"Why don't you do it?"
>"Trixie does every day, saves time on brushing."
>"You better not let Anon hear that," mumbles Moonie maliciously.
>Trixie stares at her carefully. To which Moonie stares back so now the scene looks like some sort of old western stand-off. Neither will do anything, probably. They seem fond of daring the other to strike first so they can tattle. You have to muffle yourself by biting down on your fist when you very nearly laugh at how alike they are in their childish natures.
>"Eat the tube."
>"No," Moonie states defiantly, "You eat the tube."
>"Why? It's just tube food," snickers Trixie.
>"Stop saying tube so much."
>"Fiiine, you don't have to eat the tube."
>And then Trixie gives a little smirk. The kind where you know, because you appraise her face without getting instantly riled up like Moonie, that it's just an attempt to goad Moonie into a reaction. That she falls for. From Moonie's point of view, it seems like in that little smirk, that Trixie is arrogantly patting herself on the back for a small victory.
>And so in her defiance to refuse Trixie any kind of victory, Moonie downs the entire tube of toothpaste. Though it's a bit late, that's when you step in.
"Spit that out," you command.
>The two spin to face you with poor looks of innocence.
"Don't even try, I was listening. Now spit."
>Stubborn as ever, Moonie swallows.
>"The fair and innocent Trixie didn't do anything, she did it on her own."
"I swear it's like I've adopted two kids," you think to yourself before saying, "Too much of that stuff can be a poison, you know."
>Both visibly pale.
"Tube."
>Moonie gives you the tube and you read the ingredients. While you're not exactly sure of the effects of many foods or chemicals on horses, much less technicolour magical ones, the rule of thumb seems to be that most ways things affect you do the same to them.
"No fluride, but... Sorbitol."
>"What's that?" the two squeak in unison.
"Just a syrupy alcohol thing to make toothpaste taste sweet. But in higher dosages... Well, it works as a laxative."
>Trixie turns to Moonie to give a loud "HAH!" right in her face. Moonie just looks down in defeat.
"And as punishment for getting her to do it, you'll be cleaning any mess she makes."
>The colour completely drains from Trixie as Moonie glances at her from the corner of her eyes while sharp teeth in a grin wider than her jaw. Yes, there would be mess. Now you do feel a little, kind of, sorta bad for making that the punishment. Though only a little.

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[78]

>Just about everyone in the room is glaring your way. You look across the long table, mayors, delegates a sheriff, and councillors occupying every seat of the great stretch, to see Princess Celestia and Ms. Harshwhinny. The Princess gives you an apologetic smile while Ms. Harshwhinny has her notorious 'annoyed at everything and everyone just for existing' face.
>"Mayor Anonymous," begins one Mayor from Vanhoover in a haughty and self-important stance, "There has still not been an official vote. Just because the Princess revealed in confidence that her vote would go to Ponyville does not mean that will be the outcome."
>"Here-here," call out a couple other members of Equestria's Bureaucratic Table.
"Alright, alright. Settle down," you reply with your hands up to try and put a stop to anyone else making sure their opinion is heard and stalling conversation,"I don't know how these things go. What do we do?"
>Mayors, delegates, and councillors exchange grins.
>"Ahem," goes Ms. Harshwhinny, grabbing everyone's attention, "You'll each make a short pitch on why your town would be suited to host the next Equestria Games. Everyone puts it to an anonymous vote, three votes each and we do it again and again until there is a clear majority for a town. This is make sure there is no disputes later like we've so often had in the past. Then an inspector such as myself will go to whichever town gets the most. If that town fails, the inspector will go to the second town and so on."
>"Does that clear up everything, Mayor Anonymous?" the Crystal Empire delegate asks while looking down her nose at you.
>You nod solemnly.
>"And for the record," continues Ms. Harshwhinny, "There is no leaving this room until a clear vote is finalised. I don't care what happens. We'll order pizza and even the delivery guy will be stuck here until the vote is finished. Understood?"
>Everyone nods then the Sheriff stands up to take the first go.
>"Appleloosa is a fine country town with plenty wide open spaces fer any kinda sport. While we ain't got a lot of them fancy facilities you folks got here in the city, anywheres the Equestria Games might need can be built within days with our labour force seein' as we been explaindin' the place an all."
>"And that rat's nest called the Salt Block," whispers one nearby councillor to another as the two snicker.
>The sheriff's attention fixates on them through his peripheral but he ignores the two and carries on, brimming with pride for his town. Gazing around, you see various members rolling their eyes, looking superior at the Sheriff, or just flatly ignoring him. And yet the Sheriff shrugs it all off and instead keeps talking about Appleloosa. While you're not sure if a small remote town is the best place for the games, you like the Sheriff. He seems the be the only one here talking this seriously and actually listening to everyone else. So that might be one vote.
>Next is a mare mayor from Baltimare, followed by a delegate for the Crystal Empire. A few other members decline to enlist their city for various reasons, such as Applewood whose stadiums are in repair. That leaves the towns in the running to be: Appleloosa, Baltimare, Califoalnia, Chicoltgo, Crete, Crystal Empire, Fillydelphia, Foaledo, Griffonstone, Hoofington, Las Pegasus, Manehattan, Mullumbrumby, New Horseleans, Our Town, Ponyville (Naturally), Salt Lick City, Seaward Shoals, Smokey, Trottingham, Vanhoover, Whinnyapolis, and Yakyakistan.
>And it all goes south from there. A panicky looking clerk bursts into the room. Even from the opposite end of the room you can hear her hyperventilating as her heavy whisper to Princess Celestia echoes through the room.
>"My Princess, the town is in a panic. Nightmare Moon, she has returned," the clerk breathes.
>All the delegates, councillors, mayors, and the sheriff look at you the instant word carries their way. Their glares are harsh, unforgiving, and full of nothing but the scornful arrogance that only the upper-class can master. Princess Celestia pauses for a moment, then when she finally looks your way her eyes are puzzled. There's no judgement behind those eyes. They trust and believe to a fault, instead they are curious. They know something isn't at it seems and they know that you know something.
>"Mayor Anonymous of Ponyville," a regal tone carries Celestia's voice, "You were charged with the care of Nightmare Moon."
"Yes," you reply flatly.
>Everyone's attention hangs for a moment before anyone realises that was all you had to say on the matter.
>"Do you have an explanation or any idea what might have happened?"
"I do not," you lie, "So, we best get on with this vote?"
>"Preposterous!" Bellows the minotaur of Crete, "Even we Minotaur has to deal with Nightmare Moon's tyranny. This needs to be handled now."
"Actually, you heard Ms. Harshwhinny earlier. Nobody gets out. No matter what. Even that clerk is stuck here until a decision is made."
>Everyone seated exchanges looks as they realise what is going on, or at least begin to suspect. The clerk just looks around puzzled as everyone refuses to meet her gaze. Until he makes his way toward the door. Then Ms. Harshwhinny blocks her way with a stern glare that is hardy enough to break even the hardiest of will.
>"Really?" The poor clerk murmurs as she resigns herself to fate.
>Ms. Harshwhinny turns to her audience and declares in a hardened tone, "Vote!"
>Every head in the room, save for Ms. Harshwhinny and Princess Celestia, ducks down for cover to write their three votes on pieces of paper. After a few short seconds, Ms. Harashwhinny, goes around the room to collect all the ballots into a little box. Once she returns to the head of the table she gives the box a vigorous shake and begins to count them all. Then she announces the top five.

Appleloosa: 14
Vanhoover: 14
Ponyville: 12
Crete: 10
Mullumbrumby: 8

>Everyone groans.
>"Yes, yes. Again. Quickly now," Ms. Harshwhinny commands.
>"Really, Princess. Don't you think we should really let this go this time. The fate of Equestria could very well be in great peril."
>Before answering the Princess glances your way, "I'm afraid not. Rules are rules."
>Then everyone else tries to steal glances your way too. And with that, everyone hastily scrawls their votes. Ms. Harshwhinny enjoying the opportunity to have an entire room captive drags out the ballot counting until she announces the landslide winner, with 42 votes, Ponyville.
>The Princess and the Sheriff are the only ones polite enough to applaud and congratulate you. The rest are already run outside screaming and squealing like pigs from the butcher shop.
>"I trust you'll handle Nightmare Moon?" the Princess asks with her famous smile™.
>"With all due respect, your highness," the Sheriff scoffs in disbelief, "Shouldn't you or the elements of harmony deal with Nightmare Moon?"
"Ah, I wouldn't bother them. If she's really caused trouble then I'll ground Moonie. Should do the trick."
>"Moonie?" gasps the Sheriff with such open-mouthed surprise that you thought his moustache would fall off.
"I'm off. It was nice seeing you Princess and I hope you get it next time Sheriff. You sold me on Appaloosa."
>"Uh, yes. Right. Thank you. You should come and visit some time," he says while shaking your hand idly as his mind still recovers.
-----
>The town square where you said you'd meet Moonie at this time is deserted. Not a soul in sight. You look around and notice a rustling in a bush. Rolling your eyes, you head over and put your back to it.
"I wonder where Moonie--"
>And then Moonie leaps out, fangs bared, with forehooves and wings stretched out to make the little filly seem bigger than she is.
"Is that how you were scaring folks?"
>"Not at first. First is was up on that building across the way. I made a little smoke and thundered my voice shouting the speech about my return. Then it was mainly just popping up," she cackles while revelling in the despair of ponies, "I like it here."
"You only say that because nobody is scared of you back in Ponyville unless it's a tourist."
>Moonie pouts a little at that remark.
>"I'm doing all this hard work to help you and this is how you say thanks."
"Yes, you're right." You give an exaggerated bow, waving your hand in circles as you bend as low as possible, "Forgive me, my queen. I am truly grateful for your efforts have won us the day."
>Moonie laughs then says, "So, we got it? It worked?"
"Yes, as silly as your plan was. It worked quite well. Now I've got to work out how we're going to host this thing," you sigh.
>"Then I win! So I'm picking dinner."
"Yes. Yes."
>"What's the most expensive restaurant in town?"
"Really?" you splutter, "I'm surprised you weren't going to be all over that new burger place here. Or maybe Donut Joes."
>"Yeah, that's a good point. But then... Which to choose you know?"
>You sigh a breathe of relief at having turned her attention away from costly. You know how expensive some places here can get, your wallet might never recover.
"Which?"
>"I'm thinking! One second."
"Tick-tock," you tease.
>Moonie pokes her tongue out at you. As she thinks, you stare around the square. It's still empty. Off in the distance and in a couple windows a few ponies can be seen fearfully peeking at what be their last hope for Equestrian kind. You snicker but also feel a little bad for them all. It's probably best not to loose Moonie like that, well it's definitely a bad idea, but if she doesn't work off some of that 'doom and domination' energy then she'll wreak havoc in the house.
"I'm surprised at you, is all."
>"Hmm?"
"I figured you the greedy type."
>Moonie's eyes widen as realisation dawns and excitement builds.
"Three, at most," you interrupt.
>"Burgers, donuts, and pizza! Let's do it!"
>Moonie cheers and bellows over and over about it for the rest of the afternoon.

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[79]

>You're barely off the train from Canterlot when Moonie tries to make a break for it. You grab her by the scruff of the neck and turn her to face you.
"Where are we off to?"
>"Nowhere," she shrugs.
"Oh, then you can take your bag," you reply handing the thing in question.
>She impatiently clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes.
>"Me, Applebloom, Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle are going to venture into the Everfree."
"It's and I. When listing people you should put yourself last."
>"Why?" A puzzled Moonie asks.
"It's impolite," you answer, unsure if there was ever a proper grammatical reason.
>"But," Moonie pauses to think about it, "I'm more important."
"Yeah, I bet you think that. So why is Scootaloo last?"
>"Because I can't say all their names at once so I just went alphabetically," plainly replies Moonie as if that were obvious to all but you.
"Do I need to remind you about safety in that Forrest?"
>"No," she replies in a exasperated drone as she repeats part of the lecture you've always given her, "Don't stray from the path, I'm not to go too deep into the Forrest, and if we encounter any animals or monsters we are to quietly turn back immediately."
>You nod and take her bags off her which excites the little filly as she darts off to find her friends. 
>As you're heading home with all the luggage in tow, you grumble about not receiving a thank you at all which earns you the giggles of a few mothers nearby who overheard.
>The sky has been painted with sprawling hues of blue, orange, and pink that looks a little captivating out the kitchen window. 
>Then you rinse the glass you were drinking from and note that it's getting late yet Moonie still hasn't returned. 
>While you trust Moonie and the girls to be... mostly safe in the Everfree Forest, you can't help but hear a little voice of doubt and worry. 
>It doesn't take long for it to eat at you, so you head out to go check on them.
>The entrance to the Everfree isn't too far away from Sweet Apple Acres, so you head over the there. Usually that's where they all hang out if not in the town. 
The wide reaches of the farm is a rather idyllic play area for any child really.
"Hey," you wave to Granny Smith, "How's things?"
>"Oh, Mayor Anonymous. Things are good, I'm just taking a breather while I let the ol' cider air out."
>You notice a mug of foaming cider on the floor beside the old mare as she rocks back and forth on a deck chair.
"Moonie around?"
>"Not that I know of. Ain't seen them since morning. Everything alright?"
"Oh, yeah. Of course," you say in your best attempt at 'I'm not an overly worried parent' as you try to play it cool, "It's just almost tea time and all that. You know."
>"Ah, yep. Sounds about right. Well, if Applebloom is with her, could you send her home. It's nearly dinner time here too. We're having Apple Stew."
>There's the urge to question Granny about her endlessly apple-themed diet, but you decide against it. It might be rude. But you always wonder about it. Because either she should be sick of them by now, might have a deficiency in some vitamins or something, or maybe it explains her long life span. She is one of, if not the, eldest pony in Ponyville after all.
"Well, I'd best be off then. Take care Mrs. Granny."
>She glowers at you briefly, knowing you did it deliberately but still waves you off with a hearty smile. While you could look around town a bit more, just in case, you figure it most likely that they never left the forest. And so, that is where you go.

>There's something about the Everfree Forest and then endless directions it seems to lead off into that makes you think that at some point you'll look up into the trees and there will be a cat grinning its little grin. And in some small way, you're little disappointed when there isn't. 
>There really aught to be, sometimes this world just doesn't really follow the proper narrative expectations.
>The Everfree Forest, known for it's dark, gloomy, and ominous atmosphere looked dark, gloomy, and ominous. You follow the path but look out past the foggy tree line for any sign of fillies that strayed off the track. 
>While there isn't, sometimes it seems like something stares back. Letting her go in here was stupid. 
>Pushing the thought of monsters out of your mind only lets you focus on worry for the girls. And so you're in this weird thoughtful conundrum where you'd rather not worry endlessly about the girls for hopefully no reason, but the alternative is to worry about whether you're alone in theses woods right now. 
>Both of which wrack your nerves as you push deeper in.

-----

>Uh, you know, I'm not really so sure it was such a good idea coming in here in the first place, you know? And we definitely shouldn'ta walked off the path like that." Applebloom stammers, determined to fill the silence.
>Birds caw, the trees rustle in the wind, and hoofsteps on dirt are the only things you can hear otherwise.
>"It was your idea," Scootaloo grumbles.
>"No it wasn't," shrieks Applebloom indignantly.
>"Yeah, Applebloom's idea was to come here. It was Moonie's idea to walk off the track," squeals Sweetie Belle.
>"We're almost out." you reply in a bid to calm them down as you feel three sets of eyes burrow into your back.
>"We should have stayed on the track, we're going to get into trouble," one of them states, it's hard to tell which as all their voices start to sound the same when they whine like this.
>"Look, we're back on it now and heading home. Relax, we're not going to get in trouble. Maybe a little for being so late but we'll be back well before it's dark."
>Your tone is firm, and a little on the harsh side. But it seemed to do the trick. The paranoia and fear that was swamping them earlier fades. Clarity prevails. For now.
>"Still, shame we couldn't find that manticore," grumbles Scootaloo.
>That sours your mood now. It was the whole reason the four of you stepped of the track in the first place. You found manticore tracks and wanted to see one, dragging the protesting crusaders behind you.
>"Uh, girls," Sweetie Belles softly squeaks.
>"Probably would have been a bad anyway," Applebloom replies to Scootaloo, completely ignoring Sweetie.
>"It's not like we were going to get close to it. Just look. Right Moonie?"
>"Girls, little problem," Sweetie reiterates.
>You turn around to try and put a stop to the endless chattering they're making when you notice just behind a wide-eyed and terrified Sweetie Belle towers a manticore.

-----

>While trying to step over a fallen tree, you stamp your foot into a puddle of mud that sprays all the way up your shirt.
"Typical," you remark as you try to flick off the chunky bits.
>There's still no sign of anyone, let alone a group of four fillies. Just as you begin to resign yourself to admitting it might be best to head back and grab a few people, you hear shouting. In an instant, you break into a run heading towards the noise. 
>Hanging leaves and over-extending branches whip your body but you keep going until you see a mass of shapes in the distance.
>You push harder now. You feet hit the ground so hard your knees tremble a little before you're upon the group and the manticore.
>"Anon?" squeals Sweetie Belle, "You shoulda seen it."
>The manticore is out cold. No marks on it or any of the fillies give away what happened.
>"Sleep spell," Moonie beams maliciously, "Can we keep it?"
"No!"
>You reply is quick and escapes your lips before you can even think about the possibilities for terror that would cause. 
>Looking at how massive the thing is, it's easy to see that this one would stand nearly as tall as you are. 
>Your eyes are drawn to examining it, from it's wings, to it's large fangs protruding from an under-bite, and its massive paws would have to hide claws large and sharp enough to do all sorts of damage that you don't even want to think of.
>"Aw, why not?"
>A million reasons fill the mind. Most clearly of all, that it's wild and dangerous. But rather get into that argument, you opt to get straight into discipline. You straighten, harden your glare, and temper your voice.
"Because it's late and you're in trouble. All of you. Now march your butts back home now before I get angry."
>"You mean he isn't mad already," Scootaloo tries murmur to Moonie. But you hear, scowl and she accepts her fate of walking back with her head down low.
>Inside you sigh a deep sigh of relief at having found them all unharmed. And deeper in your mind you think about what Moonie just asked. Definitely not a manticore, there's not a chance that would ever happen. But maybe something else.
>All of the crusaders walk back looking deflated, Moonie however, her ego inflated to the point of swelling at having beat a manticore so deftly and single-handed. This would be something you'd hear about for a long, long time.

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[80]

>There's a crappy ten second opening theme playing while the lights are dim and so the audience begins clapping and cheering. As the stage lights up, Sir Bearington stands there in a suit grinning his stitched mouth widely.
>"Hello, hello, everybody. I am Sir Bearington, the cuddliest evil minion and your host."
>The audience claps and whoops.
>"We've got a great show planned tonight with a very, very special guest."
>Oo's escape the audience's lips.
>"The one, the only supreme queen of the eternal void beyond, Nightmare Moon, Moonie," Sir Bearington bellows over the audiences thunderous cheers and clapping.
>A light flicks on above you, revealing you to all which causes the crowd to get even louder. Truly, your subjects don't just love you, they adore you. You find yourself raising your head proudly with a haughty air and they love it.
>"Alright folks," cheerfully shouts Sir Bearington, "If you keep that up we will never get to know our dearest mistress."
>Instantly, the audience falls silent. There's a few hushed whispers here and there but they go deathly silent once more.
>"Before we get to the interview, a bit of news in the world. Don't worry, I'll be quick. It seems all the bakeries in Canterlot have had to stop selling cakes to the Princess of the sun," Sir Bearington delivers the Celestial object with scorn to which the crowd jeers in unison, "It appears she has CAKED on the pounds."
>You let out a single loud "HA!" and the crowd roars into laughter, eager to appease the night and Equestria's true ruler.
>"And also, here in Ponyville, it seems the Mayor's ever iron grip has not waned as his attention and security was rigorously tested. Thieves, identities unknown, tried to steal a cookie from the kitchen jar multiple times. But Anonymous' vigilance caught them each time before they were given an early bed time."
>At this, the crowd begins to chant, "Down with the false tyrant, up with Moonie!" Until Sir Bearington gestures for them to simmer down.
>"And finally, we have a special bit of news. It appears we might be getting a pet--"
>Sir Bearington was interrupted by the eruption from the audience as they all begin to scream, cheer, and shriek as loud as possible in the excitement. It takes several moments for them to tire themselves out enough for Sir Bearington to roar for silence.
>"He has been seen going into a pet shop to look around and talk to the mare on the register TWICE now. So this will be our vote for tonight's show. What pet should we get? Option one, a dragon but better than Twilight's. Option 2, a three-headed Tartarus hound. Lastly, option 3, phoenix. We will tally the votes and reveal the answer at the end of the program."
>The audience claps and a little quick jingle plays from a nearby band as Sir Bearington waddles over to sit behind his desk.
>"Now, Mistress Moonie, may I call you that?"
>"Yes," you nod, "I also accept; my queen, your majesty, empress, eternal one, princess of the night, the mare in the moon, the terribly tenacious tyrant of timeless totality, and obviously Nightmare Moon."
>Sir Bearington joins in with the audience's chuckle.
>"I would like to ask the question that is on everyone's lips. Mare, Stallion, filly, and colt alike. When will you be taking over again?"
>The crowd lets out hushed whispers in eager anticipation.
>"I have a special announcement on that for your guests, Sir Bearington."
>His soft plushy head bops up and down as he too eagerly awaits your declaration.
>"THIS VERY MOMENT," you howl before erupting into maniacal evil laughter.
>Suddenly the show comes to a grinding halt. You're sitting there in your room, surrounded by your toys, as the door creaks open.
The human's face peers in before speaking in a very weary voice, "Moonie, it's 4am."
>"I know so you're really cutting into my me time here."
>With a tired sigh, Anon rubs his face and leaves you be. Anonymous' interruption spoiled your immersion quite considerably so you decide just to have Sir Bearington wrap up the show hastily and get to plotting some prank to wake Anon up with in a few hours. Perhaps something involving cake batter.

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[81]

>"HAPPY HEARTH'S WARMING!"
>The shrill shriek of delight comes across more as the great big horn the barbarian horde would blow before an ambush as Moonie leaps into the air and huddles into a ball before landing with extreme force onto your sleeping gut.
>You're unable to get a word out as all the air was forced out upon impact but you jolt enough to fall out of bed.
>"You okay?" Moonie cackles.
>Opening your eyes to groan and complain, you find yourself surrounded by the dark.
"What time is it?"
>"Like 1:00 am."
"Why did you wake me then?"
>"Cause it's Hearth's Warming and I want to open my presents."
"You know, normal families do this when the sun is up?"
>"What part of us is normal? There's you human from another world and me a millennia old tyrant trapped in the form of a filly. Oh, and there's the freeloader." 
>Still laying face down on the ground, you spy in the corner of your eye Trixie, eating away at a peanut butter cup.
>"If you're up, Trixie demands to know if we are opening gifts."
>"YES! We are because that's two against one," Moonie jumps with glee on your bed.
"Since when did you follow the democratic way?"
>"Since it helps me get my way but if that doesn't work then get your smelly butt up because I want to open presents."
>With a squeal Moonie leaps off the bed and scampers down the hall.
>"Trixie will see you out there."
"Thanks," you grumble as you try to pick your weary body off the floor.
>Shuffling about, you get into the lounge room to slump into your chair.
>Moonie flicks on the tree lights which is a little blinding at first with all it's coloured hues.
>You look the gaudy thing over.
>It looks like a simple tree at first, if you take a very quick glance at it from the periphery; with tinsel, lights, and baubles. Sitting at the top is a skull, grinning there instead of anything even remotely traditional. Not a real one of course, a resin one though it looks kind of real at a glance.
>And because Moonie got her way with an addition, Trixie had to get one. So she had her name spelt out in the lights. Naturally then Moonie wanted her name too.
>But that meant Moonie got two things.
>So Trixie put a wizard hat much like her own on top of the skull.
>Then Moonie got upset because her item was meant to be the highest thing on the tree.
>Even the memory of the argument those two had over three days is giving you a headache.
>At some point they also decided to put your name in the tree, though you're not sure when and you're not about to ask when or why. It is kind of a nice thing for them to decide to do and you don't want to ruin that.
>"Me first," Moonie shouts.
>"What? No fair. Just for that, the generous and patient Trixie should go first."
>Moonie pokes her tongue out but before Trixie can rise to the bait, you step in.
"How about we all open a gift each."
>You hand each a present which neither wastes a second in tearing apart.
>Trixie gets her's out first. '1001 magic tricks! Including 25 props!' the box reads. She smiles at you and says thank you which is muffled under the maniacal laughter from Moonie.
>'1,000 toy soldiers' her box reads.
>"THE ARMY HATH ASSEMBLED!"
>"No, you have to do that," Trixie points out with glee.
>This deflates Moonie a little.
>"Really? What are sprues?" she asks as she looks at what Trixie is pointing to.
>"You assemble the bits yourself and paint them. You can even mix and match these yourself," you shrug in an attempt to hide your unease at her sudden lack of interest, "Who knows, you could make one big army or make several."
>This brightens her up a bit.
>"Well... This makes it difficult. One legion under my banner would seem to be the best option but then what force would be the opposition."
"Good point."
>"Yes, for what point is there in a warrior without war?!"
>Moonie continues to monologue as you unwrap your gift which just so happens to be a joint gift from the two.
>And it's as if a golden light was shining from the box within as a broad smile stretches your jaw to the limit.
>You got exactly what you wanted.

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[82]
>"Moonie, what are you sulking in here for?"
>The linen closet door swings open revealing Trixie.
"How'd you know I was in here?"
>"Magic," she shrugs.
"You know locator magic?" Actually a little impressed... Well, very impressed but you mask it well enough so she'd only think you're a little impressed.
>Then she takes the corner of a sheet that was poking out from under the door and tucks it in.
>"Yeah, sure. Anyway, come check check this out."
>Trixie smiles before wandering off and there was something in it that has you curious. It wasn't a regular kind of happy though you're unable to place what it is exactly. Trixie leads you into backyard where her wagon sits. As the two of you enter, you're hit with the great musky smell of a room that has had someone in it for days without airing.
"You do have windows, right?"
>Trixie lifts her nose and sniffs.
>"Huh, guess the studious and Trixie didn't really notice it till now," she laughs like she's enjoying it, "That's pretty bad."
>The two of you immediately set about opening the place up, even leaving the door open before Trixie gestures you over to a cauldron. It's the kind of cauldron you'd expect to see in some fairytale book with a witch over it almost.
>"Trixie found this spell in one of Twilight's books. It lets you see other possibilities."
"Thought you could find a world where you're successful?" you jeer.
>"Careful, or the generous and unforgiving Trixie will not let you see what she found."
>Curious you raise a brow, knowing full well that Trixie could never let a silence go by without filling it with boasting.
>"While looking into the infinite universe's woven web of possibilities, I, Trixie, found a universe where you and Anon have your roles reversed."
"What?!"
>"Yeah. You Nightmare Moon are the adult and Anonymous the child."
"How did that happen?"
>"Well, I was going from one probability--"
"I don't care about the spell, I want to know how I could, as an adult, adopt some ugly little alien from another world?"
>Trixie shrugs, "I can't exactly look into the past and future in these scenarios. It all carries out as if it's another world like ours and I've not overheard anyone talk about it."
>You click your tongue in frustration. That'd be something interesting but you press Trixie onward to get her moment of self-appreciation out of the way before looming over the cauldron to watch.

-----

>"ANONYMOUS!"
>The house is silent. The adult Nightmare Moon rolls her eyes as she walks into a room full of toys spread out all over the floor. Using her magic she scoops them up to dump into a chest before searching.

-----

"Ugh, that me spoils him way too much."
>Trixie just rolls her eyes, refusing to comment on the fact that you have just as many toys as kid Anon.
>"Just watch."

-----

>"Bath," bellows Nightmare Moon as she lifts up the bed to find a gleefully screaming human child.
>"Only if you give me a donut."
>"HA! Like I'd fall for that again."
>"For a snack."
>"We both know you wouldn't eat it. Now, bath."
>The human gets up to scurry away as Nightmare Moon watches but the second he turns the wrong direction she lifts him up with magic and carries him like that.
>"Magic is cheating," he chimes in one of those irritating sing-song ways.
>Once he is placed down in the bathroom Nightmare Moon glares at him. He smiles sheepishly then begins to undress as Nightmare Moon closes the door. She sighs.
>"When is dinner?" asks a familiar voice, "Trixie is hungry."

-----

"WHAT?! Will we never be rid of you?" You screech at Trixie from across the cauldron.
>The mare just stares unenthusiastic ally at you.
"Oh, settle down. It was just a joke."
>The stare continues.
"Fine, I'll shut up and watch."

-----

>Once dinner is ready, the three sit down and eat. You're not sure what it is they're eating. It's like a sludge with various oddities floating about along a side of something leafy. One one hand it's funny knowing that your creative cooking skills are universal but on the other hand you're a little annoyed at the other you for whatever that is.
>"HE'S DOING IT AGAIN!" Trixie screams.
>"ANON! Stop picking your nose."
>A thick pale green glob comes out on his finger as he grins at Trixie.
>"The doctor says it's good for my immune system," he continues to grin as he slowly brings closer to his mouth, all the while other Trixie is yelling no over and over.
>"If you're so hungry, eat what's in front of you," scolds Nightmare Moon as she magics over a tissue to wipe off the nugget.
>But as soon as Nightmare Moon turns away, Anon's finger goes right back up. Trixie naturally yells about it but the finger is out as soon Nightmare even turns to look.

-----

>"What's going on in here?" Says Anon as he wanders into the wagon.
"I'm realising how I'm glad I am that I'm not the parent here."
>"And why is that?" He asks, slightly offended.
"Cause then I'd be the one with those circles under your eyes. You're exhausting as a child."
>"You wanna explain?" He asks Trixie.
>She rolls her eyes then takes the opportunity to boast about herself, this time leaving out the part where she got it from one of Twilight's books. Then Anon watches with you. Occasionally when adult you does something annoying you indulge the urge to point out his equivalent of it or how he does the same thing. Like making you go to bed when you're not tired. So he in turn points out every time kid him does something annoying what your version of that is. Except the nose picking thing. That nastiness all him it seems.

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[83]

>Wait. Who fixed what?" You ask the doorway Moonie was standing in a moment ago where she yelled an incomplete sentence before zipping off.
>"Trixie has fixed the cauldron," she returns to roll her eyes at you.
"It broke?"
>"She couldn't use it to look back an the other world's history, remember?"
"And she can now?" You ask getting excited.
>You grab a couple bags of chips then the two of you dart off immediately to burst into Trixie's wagon.
>"TRIXIE WANTS--" shrieks Trixie before you cut her off by shoving a bag into her mouth.
>Then the three of you huddle around the cauldron as Trixie looms over the cauldron to tune it in.
>"So, obviously we're going to find out how big me gets stuck with snot-nose Anon, right?"
>Trixie nods.
>"I wonder what unspeakable evil she must have done," Moonie grins, "To be dealt such an unbearable punishment."
"I doubt she did anything."
>Moonie looks up, a curious brow raised.
"She seemed like a bit of a softie to me."
>Moonie's face goes red, likely a mix of embarrassment and anger, then tries to shout but can't seem to work out what she wants to say. All she manages to splutter is various indignant noises. You smile at her, having done what you set out to do. While she does seem a softie compared to what you've heard she used to be like, tyrannical dictator after all, you doubt that wasn't the reason. Likely Moonie is closer to the mark but it's just one of Celestia's reform tactics she does.
"Trixie?"
>She looks up with a mouth coated in chip salt.
>"What?"
"What do you reckon?"
>She shrugs, "Trixie isn't even sure how you two ended up together."
>"I still haven't told you that story yet?"
"Oh, I've still not told you that story?"
>"No. And you promised Trixie you would."
"Okay, well sometime after this I will."
>Trixie rolls her eyes, not believing a word of it then finishes her final element of her magic and is able to finally weave into another world.

----------

>Adult Nightmare Moon is skulking around Canterlot Castle at night. She takes a few steps then stops at a window to look up into the stars to mumble something unintelligible.
>"What's up?" squeaks a chipper little human.
>Nightmare Moon looks down and then growls, flashing her pearly white and razor sharp teeth widely at him.
>"Why are you in such a bad mood?" he asks, seeming to be completely unfazed by the horror show in front of him.
>"Leave mortal creature. Lest I swallow you whole."
>"Princess Celestia says when I'm in a bad mood I should talk about it," kid Anon adds before sitting beside Nightmare Moon.
>"You're not scared?"
>"Nah."
>There's a bit of silence in those wide marbled halls as Nightmare Moon seems to appraise the child beside her for a while. Then once she seems to reach some conclusion in her head, she rolls her eyes and nudges him to his feet.
>"Come on, where is your room?"
>Anon tells her and the two quietly walk through the halls. Once there, she shoves Anon in and closes the door behind her. Only, Nightmare is barely down before Anon appears beside her again.
>"What?" she looks back to see the door was silently left open.
>"I'm Anon. Short for Anonymous cause nobody knows where I'm from. Huh, that kinda rhymes. I'm Anon and nobody knows where I'm from. Anon, I don't where where I'm from," chirps Anonymous.
>"I don't care."
>"Hi 'I don't care.' That's an odd name," he giggles.
>"It's actually Nightmare Moon," she hisses back, 'Now go to bed."
>"I'm not tired."
>Nightmare Moon grips him by the back of the collar with her magic, lifts him into the air much to Anon's delighted squeals, and plunks him back down into bed.
>"Sleep. It appears that is what the night must be for."
>Nightmare Moon's tone is bitter and icy, none is directed at Anon as her eyes seem to glaze back to some place else.
>"Night time is the best time to explore though."
>"What?"
>"Yeah, everyone else is asleep so I can do what I want."
>"Not everyone. There are many guards patrolling for little trouble makers like you."
>"They've never caught me before," the kid grins mischievously.
>Nightmare Moon tries to contain the smile on her face and does a good job of it after a second. It's hard to tell if Anon noticed the brief flash of a grin as he seems almost lost in his own world.
>"I'm thirsty."
>"Fine," Nightmare grunts, "You stay here, I'll get you something."
>And with a huff and a puff, Nightmare Moon blusters off to the kitchen. The halls are as empty as they always are. Nightmare Moon thinks about the guards, namely about how she herself never sees them. Though in her case, it's likely they all avoid her. Which is fine. She'd rather be left alone anyway.

-----

>Once Nightmare Moon arrives into the kitchen, she steps up the fridge and stops. Then she looks down beside her to find Anon smiling up at her.
>"I thought I told you to stay put."
>"You did."
>There's a pause.
>"Why didn't you?"
>"Cause I'm thirsty now," Anon replies matter-of-factly as if it's clear as day.
>Then Anon grabs a nearby wooden chair and begins to slide it over. The legs grip onto the floor to make an awful screeching noise as they slide.
>"Stop!"
>He stops then when Nightmare says nothing more, Anon starts pushing again.
>"Look, just--Ugh!" Nightmare Moon lifts the chair with her magic and brings it over to a nearby bench.
>"But I want to sit there," Anon protests with the kind of whine only a really annoying child can muster.
>With another heave of magic, the chair is over where he wanted it.
>"Happy?"
>"I could have just sat there if it's such a bother."
>Teeth mash and grind together in Nightmare's mouth while an eyeball twitches. But that fades away the second Anon snickers, letting her catch onto what is going on.
>"Funny," comments Nightmare as she fills a glass with water then puts it in front of Anon, "Drink then bed."
>"Ok."
>"No more getting out of bed. No more trouble. No more following me. Just sleep."
>"I said okay."
>"And I don't believe you."
>He laughs into his drink, blowing little bubbles, "You catch on quicker than Celestia."
>Internally, Nightmare cheers herself on. The cheering going from just one little version of herself clapping before multiplying into an amphitheatre full of Nightmare Moons clapping and cheering a singular Nightmare Moon at the centre. That one bows and revels in all the praise as roses are thrown at her hooves. Externally she is calm and composed, refusing to give any hint she is riding that little comment all the way into superior smugness.
>Once Anon has has his drink, the two walk back to his room where Nightmare tucks him in. She uses her magic to get it very tight but once Anon rolls onto his side, the blanket comes undone. But she didn't need to worry as the kid softly yawns and seems content to finally stay in bed.

-----

>It's breakfast, the next day. Princess Celestia and Luna sit at the head of the table. On one side is Anon, eating some cereal and happily humming to himself and on the other is Nightmare Moon who is grumpily glaring at anyone who looks her way. Then down the rest of the table is various noble stallions and mares, though there is a three seat gap between Nightmare Moon and the most terrified stallion.
>Anon looks up at Nightmare Moon who glares at him so he smiles back.
>"I want him seated somewhere else."
>Celestia and Luna seem to perk up at this, even exchanging curious looks.
>"Who?" Luna asks.
>"Anon. The child."
>"You... Know his name?"
>"What is so strange about that?"
>"He has been here for months and this is the first time you've acknowledged his existence," Luna replies, an angry snappish tone hidden under the overall regal politeness her manner suggests.
>"We met last night," mentions Anon.
>"Really?" the sisters say in unison with an almost identical smile.
>"You weren't scared of her, were you Anonymous?" Luna prods, her grin growing all the more.
>"Nah, it's funny when she tries to be scary."
>"Oh," Celestia gives a sideways smirk to Moonie, "So, you don't find Miss Nightmare Moon scary at all?"
>Little Anon shakes his head.
>"Then how would you describe her?"
>Celestia's grin seems to grow as she watches Anon mull over his reply. Every second seems to stretch it a little bit more as if she knows what's coming. Even her quick glances at Nightmare Moon give that away.
>"Um, silly, or... maybe cute."
>Nightmare Moon's eyes shrink to the barest of pin-pricks before enlarging with a furious rage. Clouds begin to swell overhead and the crackling of thunder can be heard outside.
>"What?" snarls Nightmare Moon as lightning flashes beyond the nearest window, reflecting off her razor sharp teeth.
>The whole scene terrifies the nearby ponies. A few even duck under the table. Luna only now gives a cautious look to her sister who returns it as they both wonder if Celestia pushed too far. It's hard to tell where Nightmare Moon's short fuse ends after all. 
>Nightmare's nose pushes against Anon's as she growls at him.
>"Hello Nightie," Anon grins, deliberately oblivious to Nightmare's temper.
>"I am the night incarnate born beyond entropy. All your and every pony's nightmares made corporeal is my form. The power I wield is the moon's fury. Fear me!"
>Anon muffles a snicker before letting out a very poor wail of fear which brighten's Nightmare's face up. Though you're not sure if she knows he is clearly pretending or not.
>"The end hath come for you, Anonymous the human child," she cackles loudly.
>Anon giggles a little and then scurries to his feet to run off. As he runs through the halls a mix of shrieks and giggles can be heard while Nightmare Moon gives chase, cackling all the while.
>"MWA-HA-HA-Ha-ha-haaa!"
>"Sister, I know what you're thinking." Luna remarks as she steps beside Celestia.
>"Can you blame me?"
>"They do seem a... an odd match."
>"They're both very odd," Celestia adds with a nod, "She'll protest every moment though."
>"Maybe outwardly, but it appears to us that she has taken a shine to him."
>"I think you're right, sister."
>"Dibs on the declaration," Luna beams wryly.
>Celestia scoffs irritably at having not seeing that coming and on missing out. Nightmare Moon's face is going to be priceless.

----------

>"By all that is evil, kid you is intolerable."
"That's the pot calling the kettle black," you reply in your best sing-song imitation of kid you.
>"What's that supposed to mean?" Moonie barks back.
>"Get out! Both of you," Bellows Trixie.

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[84]

>As the foam builds in your mouth while brushing, you hearing the rapid scampering on Moonie running up and down the house. You roll your eyes, knowing she is up to something but you've been working a lot and aren't too bothered by the fact. The scampering gets softer and louder as she seems to be running through the different rooms of the house. Something about this does make you wonder what exactly she is up to. And then, the pitter-patter gets louder and louder until she leaps into the bathroom doorway.
>"Where have you been?" She asks with a bratty stamp of her hoof.
>Looking into the reflection, you can see her pouting about something. So, you spit out the toothpaste and rinse before turning to her.
"What do you mean?"
>"I haven't seen you all week. Your queen demands a better service than this of her household host."
>Internally, you note the strange demotion and yet promotion. Normally she calls you her second or third in command, perhaps her most faithful minion or something. Unless she is being bratty you're nothing more than a servant or an insect. But this time you're a household host? It's an odd one too.
"I made you dinner a few hours ago, you saw me then."
>She shakes her head in defiance of the facts. You just let out an exasperated sigh in reply. You suspect she's just acting out because you've been so busy. And you do feel some guilt about that, but at the same time it is your job.
>"If I have been in need of something, I have been forced to acquire Sir Bearington's servitude or Trixie's. Both of which are at about the same skill level at both tasks."
>You nod solemnly, though also make sure any humour you find at the insult toward Trixie is completely internal. Moonie doesn't seem to notice anything, thankfully.
"Well, then I fall to my knees in supplication your majesty," you state in an overly dramatic tone.
>Moonie waits for a moment, "You haven't actually fallen to your knees yet. What kind of apology is this?"
"Not a very good one. Come on, we'll eat ice-cream instead."
>In an instant, Moonie brightens and giddily exclaims in what was more gibberish noises rather than words before sprinting in direction of the kitchen.
>"I also demand to be read stories as penance."
"Yeah, sure," you reply.
>It might sound to her like you're folding but as soon as she mentioned it, it felt like exactly how you want to spend the rest of the night.
>"And we can light the fireplace and get all toasty," Moonie beams while jumping up and down with excitement. She even feigns a shiver to try and sell her request.
"Sounds nice."
>You smile then make sure to check if Trixie and Moonie haven't eaten all the ice-cream during the day before getting out two bowls.
>"Do you think Fluttershy will let us borrow her bear?"
You stop, "Why?"
>"We could use a bear skin rug by the fireplace. For the comfy."
"And how would you borrow that exactly?"
>"We'd put it back," she answers in a tone that suggests you're lacking a couple brain cells.
"Absolutely not."
>Likely just behind you Moonie is pouting, probably the kind with an angry expression and a pushed out bottom lip. You smile as you scoop out shares of the frozen treat.
>"What if we got Rarity to make one then? And it could have gems in it to make it looks like it's an Ursa Major's pelt?"
"Wouldn't it be uncomfortable laying on it if it had hard gems on it?"
>"Hm. I guess it would, yeah," Moonie stares up at the ceiling in serious contemplation, "If there some kind of reflective felt out there, maybe?"
"I doubt it."
>You lift Moonie up onto the kitchen counter and get out all the toppings like fruit pieces, nuts, cookies, marshmallows, fudge, caramel, and flavoured syrups. She immediately starts making her combination abomination while you just have a couple things. While sometimes you do follow Moonie's lead and get a little silly with the desserts, tonight just isn't that night. Then you grab two spoons, place Moonie back on the floor, and carry the two bowls out into the lounge while Moonie grabs a book.
>After a few stories, jokes, and then relaxing; the two of you fall asleep out in the lounge room by the fading warmth of the fireplace. Moonie resting atop your chest, rising and falling with your breathing.

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[85]

>"So, do you think you'll be able to handle it?" Cheerilee asks with a hopeful, mostly desperate, smile.
>You shrug then nod to which the teacher lets out a heavy sigh of relief.
>"Oh, thank Celestia. I was getting really worried about all this."
"Don't worry. I'm sure we can get this done. A few decorations like streamers and the like is right up Rarity's alley, food stalls can be outsourced to some of the food farmers round here, and as for games there isn't a single pony more suited than Pinkie."
>"Think you'll be able to convince them... by tomorrow?"
"Yeah--No--Why tomorrow?" You ask, doing a complete triple take.
>"Well, that's when the fundraiser is?"
>Cheerilee feigns a cheery smile, hoping to placate you as you rise from your seat.
"Why are you posing that as a question?"
>"I don't know. You're clearly angry and I'm worried you won't help now."
>And then you let out a long sigh. With a conscious effort, scrunch your face tight then release to make sure you'll look more goofy and annoyed than angry.
"I'm not really angry. You just, really, caught me off guard with that. Why am I hearing about it now?"
>"To be completely honest; I've been marking tests and projects, trying to keep my social life, and there was some mandatory training I had to take up in Canterlot last weekend so it's just completely slipped my mind. I'm so sorry about this Mayor Anon but it's why I'm here, I need help."
>You fall back into your seat with a half exasperated sigh and half groan. Then watch Cheerilee in silence for a moment. She looks around awkwardly for a minute, avoiding eye contact completely, then the silence gets to her so she speaks.
>"Are you still willing to help?"
You nod, "Just thinking of how I'm going to convince Rarity and whoever is going to be the food vendor."
>"What about Pinkie?"
"It's a party emergency. If she has the time, she'll do it."
>Cheerilee nods as she can't find fault in your point then begins to ponder herself.
"So, do you want food or decorations?"
>She looks up at you in shock, as if she just noticed you were there. In your own office.
>"Well, you see, I still need to get a few of the children's tests mark--" She pauses when she notices the patience draining from your face. "--Food. I'll talk with a few, the Apple family will probably be the easiest."
"Leaving me with the hard one, are you?"
>"You gave me the choice," she smiles a cheeky grin which you return fondly.
"Do you even have the contractor for the playground lined up?" You ask with a sudden realisation.
>"Not really. Depends on how much we get. If it's a lot then we'll be able to shop around."
"Fair point." You nod then the two of you say your goodbyes before Cheerilee heads out.
>A quick glance at the clock shows you've got plenty of time in the day to get this done but then again, with such a closed deadline, you decide it best to push everything else back and get this out of the way sooner rather than later. You step out of your office and into reception to see Moonie is still where you left her. Thankfully. 
>Moonie is fiddling away with a few drawings, paper planes, bad attempts at origami from memory, and some short stories of her being the valiant villain saving the day by showing the despot princesses how a real totalitarian does it. The entire receptionist desk looks like a hurricane blew through the place.
"Why does it seem like every pony has awful organisational skills." You ask rhetorically.
>Moonie places down her pencil and clears her throat as if she were about to give a lecture.
>"I, myself, have always held a rather curious theory about that you know." Her voice is pompous as she feigns an educated accent, poorly.
"Oh?"
>"Very well, if I must explain. Now, you see those digits you have on your hand?"
>You hold up your hand and give your fingers a little flitter.
>"Those, precisely. With those, you can keep track of five whole things. FIVE! Whereas, I, myself, am only able to keep track of." She cuts herself off and raises a hoof with a solemn expression.
"One? Really?"
>"Naturally, of course. It's all I can count to. One."
>She firmly presses her hoof into the air as if to punctuate her point. Then looks up at you to see if you're buying it. You are not.
>"And THAT is why I can't keep my room clean. I can only keep track of one toy and one toy only."
"Then put it away before you get another."
>"Ah, but that's where my problem comes in," she smiles as if she's caught you in her trap, "The second I think of a second toy, it is all I'm able to think about! And so I just abandon the old one and there's nothing I can do about it."
"What about Twilight then? She's got better organisational skills out of anyone in town."
>Moonie seems to seriously ponder this conundrum for some time before deciding on her answer.
>"Magic."
"Magic?"
>"Yep, don't gotta explain it. Magic."
"Moonie," you adjust your stance and glare irritably at her, "You can do magic."
>"Yeah, but not very well. Duh. I still can't do fire that well, look."
>She points her horn at the paper in front of her and it begins to weave a magical aura, you stretch your hands out in front of her and shout, "No, don't!"
>Moonie's horn loses its light and her smile glows instead. 
>"Gotcha."
>You sigh what feels like the hundredth sigh today.
"You know what, I need to help Cheerilee organise a fundraiser for the school by tomorrow and you've just volunteered for the committee."
>"But--"
"No buts Nightmare Moon."
>"I hate when you use my name, you always make it sound like I'm trouble," she grumbles under her breath but you're able to hear.
"That's because you are in trouble. Now let's go to Rarity's."
>Once she leaps down from the chair, she beings to march exaggeratedly towards the door. Along the way, turning around to poke her tongue at you. And you, being the mature parental figure that you are, poke yours back.

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[86]

"Rarity?" You call out as you knock for the second time then exchange a shrug with Moonie.
>It's not quite closing time for Carousel Boutique but last you heard, she was busy with something. 
>Pinkie would probably do the decorations if you asked with her party cannon or something but you'd feel bad dragging her onto a second job when it's such short notice. 
>Besides, Rarity lives for this kind of thing.
>"Maybe she isn't--" Moonie moves to mention when the door unlocks and slides open a touch.
>"Anonymous? Moonie?"
"Hey, is it a bad time?"
>Rarity seems to ponder this for a moment then shakes her head and opens the door for the two of you to enter. 
>Clothes and fabrics are strewn across the boutique. In the centre of the room is a chair surrounded by ponnequins with colourful fabrics draped over them.
>"Brainstorming?" Moonie asks as she stands atop the centre chair and whirls around.
>"Yes, I've got a fashion show coming up soon and I'm trying to come up with a few last minute ideas."
"Ah, well, we should be bothering you then," you hastily say before trying to collect the spinning filly and hope that Pinkie is up to the extra job.
>"We can at least ask her."
>"Ask me what?"
>You hesitate as a creeping sense of guilt overcomes you. 
>Rarity's hair is a mess and the accessories like her glasses, pencil behind the ear, and tape measure around the neck really sell the 'work-mode' aura. 
>But Moonie either doesn't take note of these details or simply doesn't care.
"Cheerilee needs a decorator for the school fundraiser."
>"Oh, yes. I've got a few bits for--Wait, isn't that tomorrow?"
>Moonie nods and Rarity glares at you. Instantly you hands shoot up in surrender.
"Woah, she's usually not this bad at organising and besides this is just a school thing."
>"It's a public school," Rarity snaps back.
"And the event is one she announced and organised."
>"Well, obviously she didn't do that last part."
"I know. And you're busy--"
>A long and heavy sigh flows from Rarity's lips before she looks at you with determination.
>"I'll do it."
>You look around at the messy workshop and think about how normally clean the place is. Everything in its place. 
>The last time it was this messy, that you knew of, was when Rarity had a big order of dresses to make for the Gala. 
>You remember hearing about her still working on her own dress on the train ride up there thanks to the tight deadline.
"You sure about that?" Scepticism etched deeply into the lines of your face.
>"Yes. It's kind of needed. This way I'll still be creating but it's something small, easy, and not... Well."
>She gestures to the room around you and you nod. Feeling a sympathetic understanding at being so overworked that you just need to slow the pace on something easy so as not to break the flow but also to get some kind of a break.
>"But I'll need you to get a few things from the store from me. Oh, darling, there's that new UltiMart that opened up. I've heard they're cheaper than every pony else. Go there," hastily commands Rarity as she shoves a few bits into your hand.
>"There's enough ponnequins here to make a double pentagram," Moonie suddenly utters in a very monotone voice while looking at you with a smile.
>Rarity looks practically panicked at Moonie's wide-eyed and unflinching stare. The smile large and stiff to add to the creepy factor the filly is going for.
"Quit it," you reply deadpan.
>"I got her though," Moonie mentions before proudly walking out.
>"I don't know how you can cope with that sort of thing regularly."
>You shrug.
"It's kind of funny at times."
>"Ah," Rarity says, as if finally understanding a puzzle that has long since plagued her, "So, she gets it from you."
"I've never done anything creepy like that."
>"Yes, but you just said it amuses you so of course she'd still find ways to terrorise the townsfolk."
>Her words give you pause as you weigh what she said with your memories. Then as you open your mouth to retort, though unsure of what exactly you would say, Rarity closes the door.
"When did she push me out?"
>"Can we buy candy?" states Moonie from beside you, ignoring what you said and events completely.
"No."
>"I want sour watermelon," she protests.
"Only if you behave."
>Moonie skips with glee as the two of you walk toward UltiMart. 
>You recall the mare who owns the place from when she came in to get permits signed. She wanted a lot of land. 
>But then again she was building a supermarket. 
>Although the name was a little odd but you kind of pushed it aside to think about later once your workload did what it always did. 
>Multiplied.

-----

>The doors slide open thanks to two rather bulky stallions at either side.
>"Ooo! Sliding door minions? Now that is--"
>Moonie stops in an instant. Her face hardens with an intense curiosity as she sniffs the air. 
>You watch her for a moment as she seems to be doing some kind of bloodhound routine then look around. 
>The customers are all Ponyville residents so once people get their usual glance out of the way, they carry on with their day. 
>Moonie's antics being so varied and numerous that you doubt there are many ponies around that aren't used to it. 
>Were this Canterlot or literally anywhere else, you might risk dying of embarrassment. Or a busted gut. Depends on everyone else's reactions usually.
"Huh. They do a bit of everything." You say aloud to nobody in particular.
>The store is almost like a warehouse and large signs hang from the roof to indicate what area has what. 
>And it seems that everything from food to hardware tools could be found here. Thankfully, in front of you is a sign with a map and below that are a few little smaller paper maps.
"Party supplies are up by wagon and carriage parts it--What are you doing?" You finally cave in and ask.
>Moonie's nose sniffs the ground and few more times as she walks in circles then stops and points off into the distance of a seemingly random direction.
>"I smell evil."
"You can bathe tonight then."
>"Fool! Not me," booms Moonie.
>And something about the cadence in her voice catches your notice. You look off to where she is pointing but don't notice any one or thing that way. 
>So with a hesitant shrug, you turn away and walk toward party supplies.
"Come on."
>There's a moment's hesitation in her before she follows and you find this kind of behaviour very strange, even for Moonie. 
>You wander through the tall shelves, fearing the place could have easily turned into a labyrinth were if not for your trusty map. The ordering system seems chaotic and if there is any pattern, you haven't got the faintest clue on what it is. In one long isle you pass by hair product, chairs, and books before turning down to the isle you were looking for.
>"Mayor Anonymous?" Calls out a sultry yet unfamiliar voice from behind you.
>You spin around with arms full of party supplies to a dark purple mare with dark rings around her dark magenta eyes and a black coat. 
>A dark black trench-coat with a very high collar. It takes you a moment before you remember who she is and where you know her from.
"Moonie this is Mrs Evil McSinisterson, the owner of UltiMart. Mrs Evil McSinisterson this is Moonie, my adoptive child."
>Mrs Evil McSinisterson smiles warmly at the two of you while you give her an expectant look. 
>A typical reply you've come to expect when you introduce Moonie like that never comes and you stare down at her. 
>It's normally now that Moonie says, with an overly dramatic tone of shock, something along the lines of, 'What do you mean I'm adopted?' 
>Instead you find Moonie sniffing the air much to Mrs Evil McSinisterson's discomfort.
>"I smell the evil on you," Moonie eerily mumbles.
"Nightmare Moon!" you bark in a softened level.
>"Nightmare Moon? Oh," Mrs Evil McSinisterson exclaims with suppressed surprise, "What a lovely... Unique child you are."
>It's clear that Mrs Evil McSinisterson is trying to be polite about it but is very much on edge. And something about Moonie's stance puts you in mind of a chihuahua that's poised to attack. 
>Just without the endless yapping.
>"Is she, um... Always like this?"
>The smile on the mare's face seems to be cracking slightly as Moonie takes a single step forward, causing Mrs Evil McSinisterson to back up a little.
"Sorry about this," you force a laugh in hopes to ease the tension Moonie is creating to little or no effect, "She's been with me for so long that I forget how odd she can be. Moonie, stop."
>Your authoritative tone seems to break through to Moonie for a moment. She stops and look back toward you, with a raised brow. 
>Her body relaxes but the intensity in her eyes return to burn holes into Mrs Evil McSinisterson. This lapse seems to make Mrs Evil McSinisterson smile for some reason. 
>Her body relaxes too and stretched taller in a more confident pose.
"Everyone in town is pretty much used to her at this point," you add with a chuckle.
>Mrs Evil McSinisterson also laughs though her's is lower and has an edge to it.
>"Then I'm sure than I'll get used to you in no time. I'm looking forward to being good friends, Miss Moonie."
>Moonie's head turns towards you though her eyes continue to start at Mrs Evil McSinisterson.
>"That is textbook villain talk."
"Cut it out."
>This seems to sour Moonie's mood and she grumbles under her breath while Mrs Evil McSinisterson grins devilishly. 
>And with that odd and foreboding introduction, you quickly pay for everything then leave with Moonie in tow. 

-----

>The second you're out of the store and the doors are closed, Moonie pipes up.
>"She's evil. I mean, come on. 'Mrs Evil McSinisterson'? That is the most obvious villain name ever. She literally has EVIL in it so it's practically a title. There's nothing clever about it either."
"Yeah, I was going to look into after I first met her."
>"She could have at least tried an anagram, make us guess." Interrupts Moonie, "The quality of villains is just lazy nowadays."
"Are you really giving me a 'back-in-my-day' type speech?"
>"WELL IT WAS! Anyway, more importantly, if you thought she was suspicious when you met her, why didn't you look into it?"
"I was... busy," you reply, feeling slightly ashamed of such an excuse at a time like this.
>"How is it that every adult is always busy when they didn't do anything? I was never allowed to use that when I didn't do homework."
"Trust me, you'll understand how when you grow up and get a job."
>"Ugh, I don't want one--" Moonie comes to a complete halt, kicking up dust then practically screeches, "WE FORGOT MY SOUR WATERMELON CANDY! GO BACK!"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[87]

>"She and that ENTIRE store is EVIL," screeches Moonie in your office for what must have been the hundredth time now.
"Moonie, for the last time, she has no history of villainy."
>"Everyone starts off somewhere! My first evil act was blotting out the sun and taking over the current governing body."
>You roll your eyes and clean your glasses wistfully. Knowing every moment she is here in your office is a moment you're falling behind on your work. 
>The form in front of you, a UR-YY, sits there blankly with what feels like an accusatory glare.
"Yes, well, she hasn't committed any evil so far so there's not a lot I can do about it... Also, you do realise I'm the mayor, right? Not the guard?"
>"We have a town guard?"
"Yes," you nod firmly. It's a small one admittedly, but they're there.
>"They're not very good," Moonie says plainly, "I didn't even know they exist, let alone noticed them trying to stop any of my antics."
>Part of you wants to say how most of her antics these days are far more childish compared to her old days but that'd only upset her. 
>And she'd feel the need to prove to you and herself that she still has it by taking over the candy store or the bakery, something along those lines.
"I have already instructed the guard to investigate Mrs Evil McSinisterson. But without a history, nothing can be done. 
>Because there is a real chance that Mrs Evil McSinisterson isn't even a villain."
>"Oh, yeah? You say her full name every time."
"What has that got to do with it?"
>"People don't shorten a villain's name. Whatever a villain prefers to go by, even if it's a nickname of their full title, is what everyone calls them. 
>Nobody calls Tirek 'Terry' or Discord isn't called 'Discy' or Chrysalis 'Chrissy'."
>While you feel like she went with the worst possible examples, you can't help but feel like there is a glaring exception to this rule right in front of you. 
>You sit there silently for a moment then when Moonie drifts back to reality to make eye contact with you, you grin. 
>Widely. 
>And then it's very clear that she had caught on because she immediately glares at you as if daring you to say it. Before you can state anything however, Moonie cuts you off.
>"I'll find out what she is up to."
"While I feel it is my responsibility not only as Mayor but more importantly, your guardian, to encourage this new intention of being a Good Samaritan, I am wondering why?"
>"What's a Samaritan?" She asks, cocking her head to the side a little.
"Someone who is helpful."
>Moonie immediately dry retches.
>"By the night, no. Never ever, EVER, call me that."
>She over dramatises the whole thing, as you really should have expected. You sit there for a bit, resting your hand under your chin, to watch her as she carries on in feigned disgust.
"So no newfound sense of altruism?"
>She starts up again and you chuckle but interrupt.
"Alright, alright. But really, why then?"
>The midnight mare looks up at you, puzzled. Her face doesn't just look like the answer is obvious, but also seems a little wounded. 
>While your heart pangs a little at the incidental insult, you also find yourself a little curious. Whatever the reason seems to have a lot of personal pride tied up in this for her.
>"I am the villain plaguing Ponyville," Moonie voice goes monotone at first but then deepens as the builds upon the seriousness.
>Her stance looks as if she is about to pounce, her gaze as cold as ice, and fangs flash behind flared lips as a temper you've not seen from her reveals itself.
>"She has invaded my territory, failed to pay the proper respects to my sub-contracted overlord, and is trying to inflict evil upon my enslaved subjects. 
>As Queen of the Eternal Night and the void beyond, this will not stand. Not only will I uncover her plans, I will break them utterly. 
>Mark my words, Anonymous the Overlord-Mayor of Ponyville, Mrs Evil McSinisterson shall be brought to ruin."
>A fire behind Nightmare Moon's eyes flares the intensity of her stare and her ethereal mane blows rather ominously in an non-existent wind. 
>Passion and pride brought these words forth and not just the subject but the way she delivered them proves beyond doubt that there is little you can do to change her mind. 
>And in an odd conflicting feeling, you find yourself hoping that Mrs Evil McSinisterson is a villain. Otherwise Moonie is about to inflict a fury on some very undeserving.
"This town ain't big enough for the two of you?" You reply coolly as you place the form back in it's place to focus on Moonie.
>There is no reply. Instead she just grin her razor sharp fangs and storms out. 
>With a heavy sigh, you grab a blank piece of paper and start making notes on a plan to save Mrs Evil McSinisterson in the event that she isn't a villain.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[88]

>"TRIXIE!"
>"Moonie, the Great and Sleepy Trixie doesn't want to," croaks Trixie before rolling over on the couch.
>"The Lazy and Useless Trixie more like, it's nine in the morning. GET UP!"
>Moonie leaps and kicks her off the couch, literally. Trixie just groans and tries to cover herself with her cape as a blanket once again, making no effort whatsoever to get up from the spot she fell.
>"What do you want?"
>"To be left alone."
>"No, as in, to come with me to Ultimart. What do I have to give you?"
>"Trixie wants snacks."
>Moonie rolls her eyes, feeling this response to be kind of typical.
>"How can you eat all the time and not be fat?"
>Now she gets up and begins to look around for anyone who might be listening. Then Trixie leans in and whispers softly.
>"I know a spell."
>"Oh," Moonie replies, genuinely fascinated, "Teach me that one sometime."
>The two share a nod then Moonie begins to walk to the door while Trixie tries to lie back down again.
>"TRIXIE! I'll buy you snacks!"
>"Since when did you become the element of generosity?"
>"Since this morning, when Anon promised me 50 bits if I can prove Mrs Evil McSinisterson is a villain."
>Trixie scoffs but smiles.
>"Alright, alright. The Tortured but Resigned Trixie is coming."

-----

>It feels like always, that you're working. Sure, being the mayor can have kind of sporadic hours and you'll even have to do a couple things at home, but lately it feels like much more work needs to be done. Ponies are always submitting paperwork to request business permits, requests to hold market days, to have festivals, construction or renovation applications, and one particular pink pony is always trying to get permission for a town-wide party. And the worst part is, they often fill it out wrong.
"This is baffling," you almost curse to the open air.
>One pony could fill out all the paperwork perfectly, but forgets their name or contact information, another just writes 'I don't know' in the section clearly marked for office use only or scribbles their pen when the ball stops rolling, and there was even one who thought they were VERY funny to write 'yes' in sex. You still have to go through these forms partially, so you can notify those who did it wrong. That is, if they wrote their name in the first place. Half the time, however, it seems like you'll be most of the way done before noticing an error.
"Ah, finally one done properly," you sigh with relief as you place it into the out tray before grabbing another.
>"Um, excuse me, Mayor Anonymous?"
>You look up to meet the eyes of a pale green unicorn mare with a two tone brown-yellow mane. It takes you a moment before the name springs to mind because you're used to seeing her in her work attire.
"Peachy Pitt?"
>Her eyes light up.
>"You remember me?"
"Of course," you nod as you gesture for her to take a seat opposite you, "How's business?"
>The mare takes a very long breath then gives a weary smile.
>"Not great. But, I need to talk to you about that."
>With a quick nod, you gesture for her to speak then sit there in silence as she seems to struggle over the words to use.
>"It's about... UltiMart."

-----

>Clean up in isle two," echoes the magically enhanced voice of one of the teenage store clerks in a dull, uninterested tone of voice.
>"Your turn to push," shrieks Moonie as she leaps into the shopping trolley her and Trixie are using as a getaway vehicle.
>Grunting can be heard from Trixie as she builds up the momentum but once the trolley is moving, she grabs hold of the trolley handle and lifts her hind legs up as they ride. The wind whips Moonie's mane and Trixie's cape as the two fly and quite a lot of speed out of isle two, where someone will have to clean up A LOT of soup.
>"What next?" asks Trixie as she places her hoof down to slow them down.
>As Moonie tries to think of an idea, she glances down the isle they arrived at. Isle 13, paint and paint supplies. Moonie grins devilishly as she makes eye contact with Trixie. Unsure what is making her so happy, Trixie raises a brow until Moonie gestures to the isle. Then she catches on too.
>"THERE THEY ARE," Mrs Evil McSinisterson practically screams.
>Two very large stallions, clearly working as security, begin barrelling down toward them. Their great muscular is intimidating to the point where Moonie isn't sure if they actually are as tall as alicorns. All she does know, is that they need to leave. Now. Thankfully, Trixie gets the same idea.
>"Hold on," Trixie shouts as she starts pushing the trolley with a speed far more rapid than before.
>"DON'T LET THEM ESCAPE THIS TIME!" Mrs Evil McSinisterson's distant voice can be heard as the two trouble makers speed further and further away.
>The security guards give a good chase for a few minutes but it's clear that Trixie is able to push the trolley up to a speed they can't match. And because Trixie and Moonie can glide away, they won't get tired before they do. So it doesn't come as a surprise to either of them when they notice off in the distance, the two security guards in their own trolley. Their speed is definitely faster than Moonie and Trixie's now as they slowly gain on them.
>"We'll have to resort to other means if we want to get away," Moonie shouts above the rush of air.
>"Like what?"
>"Take us back to isle nine then we go to two."
>"But two is--"
>"Just do it!"
>Meanwhile, as the four ponies and their trolleys race around, regular shoppers at UltiMart that heard the warning leap out of the way and shout various unintelligible things in the distance as they race past them. As Trixie pushes the cart up near a towering stack of toys, she hits the brakes and hides behind it and listens. Once the huffing and puffing of the security guard pushing his trolley can be heard from the other side of the boxes, Trixie starts to run again.
>"HEY! They went past us! Quick! Turn around!" bellows Security Guard #1.
>"How does she have so much energy," complains Security Guard #2.
>"It's all the junk she eats stored up in her big flank," Moonie cackles as they race off while they sluggishly turn around before trying to catch up.
>"MOONIE!"
>"What? I'm not wrong."
>Trixie grunts in frustration as she tries to keep building speed as they fly past isle eleven then ten.
>"NINE! NINE!" Moonie shouts urgently.
>"I KNOW!"
>As they fast approach isle nine, Trixie stomps a hoof onto the left wheel, the rest of the wheels spin and whip the trolley around in a rapid 90° turn before scampering up to speed. As they continue onward, Moonie snatches a few things off the shelf while muttering about the complete lack of any real order in this store. Then once they reach the end, Trixie whips the trolley around just in time for them to be able to look down and see the arrival of the security guards on the other end.
>Security guard #1 & #2 have switched places now and Security Guard #1 scrapes a hoof along the floor a few times to signal his eagerness to charge. Moonie pokes her tongue out as Trixie starts running while the guards start their VERY rapid charge.
>"Let them catch up a bit before we go down isle two, alright?" Moonie shouts as she starts tying things up in the cart.
>"Are you sure about this?" asks Trixie, uneasiness very clear in her voice.
>"It'll be fun. Just make sure to build up speed so you can hold on before we hit the soup, okay?"
>Trixie just nods as she puts her head down and puts all the energy she can muster into her legs. And she does just as instructed once they hit isle two. Before them lies a great river of various kinds of soup. Tomato, pumpkin, chicken noodle, pastas like ravioli, and chunky stews are mixed in this great puddle. It also kind of smells bad. The troublesome duo might have felt bad for the teenage store clerk who was trying to mop it up if it weren't for the fact that he was working for the enemy, Moonie was having far too much fun, and Trixie was far too anxious about whatever Moonie was planning.
>Trixie builds the trolley's speed up. Faster and faster they go. Behind them, Security Guard #1 and Security Guard #2 are gaining at their own rapid pace. Then just as they're about to hit the soup, Moonie throws a makeshift ramp just as Trixie clutches onto the trolley.
>"WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Shrieks Moonie with an intense child-like glee.
>"AAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHH!" Screeches Trixie with an equally intense fear as they gain an incredible altitude.
>They sail up into the air almost as high as they shelves and that's when Moonie pulls on a rope she was holding. Trixie tries to look at what it is connected to but whatever it is, is below her, so she instead clutches even more tightly and closes her eyes. The ramp flies up into the air now as Moonie tugs on the rope. The security guards tailing them don't notice quick enough and aren't able to apply enough break so they hit the soup and topple over. Spraying the mixture of soup all over themselves, the trolley, and the teenage store clerk.
>Now begins Moonie and Trixie's descent. Moonie looks ahead to notice a large stack of water containers up ahead and tries to shout to Trixie. To warn her that she needs to hit the breaks as soon as they hit the floor. Only, Trixie can't hear because her own shouting is far too loud. When they hit the floor and Trixie only tightens her grip, so nothing slows them as they are sent flying full speed into the stack. Bottles tumble on top of them and Moonie has to fight to make sure she isn't buried under them. But once she breaks the surface and meets the air, Trixie shoots up beside her.
>"THAT WAS GREAT," Moonie cheers.
>In between heaving gasps for air, Trixie asks, "My flank isn't that big."
>"Oh, yes. Yes it is," Mrs Evil McSinisterson cackles.
>"HEY! I'm the only one who can cackle in this town!"
>And that's when Moonie notices they are surrounded by security guards #3 through to #20. Also, they all look identical save for the numbers on their badges.
>"You didn't really think I had just two guards, did you? GET THEM!" squawks Mrs Evil McSinisterson.

-----

>"You are BANNED from UltiMart for LIFE!" Mrs Evil McSinisterson bellows before breaking into a maniacal laugh.
>Moonie is bodily thrown out of the store and into the street where a few ponies begin to stare. Already Moonie is grumbling about the indignity of not only being thrown out but being the only one caught. Trixie disappeared at some point but not a single pony noticed that but her. But then again, their focus was probably all on her because of the threat she poses to UltiMart. And with that, Moonie feels able to shrug off the blow to her pride.
>"This isn't over," Mumbles Moonie as she turns to face Security Guard #16 who was left to watch the door.
>With a simple grin from Moonie, he straightens himself up so his already towering physique looms even more over the filly. Then Moonie darts off to the side of the building where she left Anon's ladder.
>"Fools, the lot of them," Moonie tells herself as she climbs up to the roof and lets herself down the air vent.

-----

"I see," you say with a heavy sigh.
>"I'm guessing that means you can't help?"
"Honestly... Yes. There isn't much I can do about that. I'm sorry about what this means for your business and--"
>"Nothing at all?" Peachy Pitt pleads.
>She is now leaning forward, her forehooves on your desk and her face centimetres from yours. Her large eyes bore into yours as if challenging you to falter because behind those eyes is nothing but desperate begging.
"I'm sorry, there is nothing I can do," you reply, putting careful emphasis on 'I'.
>"Do you... Know somepony who can?"
"Oh, yes. I know quite a few who can fix this."
>"Who?"
"One is already on it."
>"WHO?!"
"You're not going to like it if I tell you."
>She gives you a quizzical look and is about to angrily push the question more when someone deliberately clears their throat to get your attention. Standing in the doorway are two very large stallions, covered in soup. Though what kind is impossible to tell.
 
-----

>Internally, Moonie hums a tune. Something slow in pace but sudden. Really giving a soundtrack to build the atmosphere over sneaking around in Mrs Evil McSinisterson's office. Immediately, Moonie looks for clues. Flicking through the papers on her desk, the drawers, and rifling into a few papers in a nearby filing cabinet. She wasn't able to find anything in that moment because hoof steps and someone swearing behind gritted teeth could be heard behind the door.
>Looking around there didn't seem to be many hiding place, save for maybe under the desk or behind the whiteboard but those kinds of spots are cliched and easy to get found in. So in a blind panic, Moonie darts behind the nearby potted pant where she sits as quietly as she can and hopes.
>"That--Nightmare Moon! ARGH! What I would give to just..." Mrs Evil McSinisterson's voice trails off as she falls into her desk chair.
>"Just what, ma'am?" asks what sounds like one of the security guards.
>"Oh, I don't know. She's just causing far too much trouble. If she weren't the mayor's daughter or some rubbish like that I'd have done something about her. Ponies from a thousand years ago must have been scaredy-cats if that little tike scared them."
>Behind the fern, Moonie had to force herself not to grind her teeth in anger because she was worried about the noise. But she was absolutely fuming. In fact, she was a little surprised neither of them noticed the steam rising up from her.
>"But, this will all be worth it," Mrs Evil McSinisterson sighs contentedly, "Soon enough."
>The door opens up and a third voice can be heard.
>"Boss, the mayor is here."
>Moonie's ears prick up at this. "What could Anon be doing here?" She thinks to herself. The two guards salute Anonymous as he approaches and the mayor gives them a thinly veiled reproachful glare. Neither guard is fased by this it seems.
>"Mayor Anonymous, thank you so much for seeing me."
>You look around the room and see things are all in order in here at least. One of the soup covered guards filled you in on Moonie's antics... Well, destruction of private property and vandalism is more like it.
"It's the least I could do, considering."
>"Look, I'll get to the point. I know you're busy and clearly frustrated about today almost as much as I am."
>You nod. Not liking Mrs Evil McSinisterson's calm tone. Any and all attempts to sound angry or annoyed seem forced. You've seen better acting from Moonie. Whatever is going on, Mrs Evil McSinisterson isn't able to keep the joy hidden.
>"If you keep Nightmare Moon a--"
"Moonie," you correct her sternly.
>Unknown to you, Moonie very nearly replied to you. The authority in your voice almost kicking in a reflexive response despite herself.
>"I'm sorry?" Mrs Evil McSinisterson asks, visibly confused.
"Nobody around her calls her Nightmare Moon. Deliberately. She isn't Nightmare Moon." You say, knowing full well that you call her Nightmare Moon when she's being bratty, in trouble, or as part of the 'queen' bit she likes to do from time to time.
>And you're not entirely sure why you corrected her either. Something in the way she said it, almost as if she was biting the words, rubbed you the wrong way.
>"Right. Right... Moonie?"
>You nod.
>"Very well. If you keep Moonie away from me, my store, and employees for good then I won't press charges. Of course, you are still welcome. But after today, she and her sister are both banned."
>Moonie bristles from behind the plant once again. Sister? How many indignities must she suffer today?
"Thank you," you answer, trying to humble yourself a little. 
>Because you're sure that everything Moonie did wasn't exaggerated by the security stallions who were complaining to you along the way here. You also can't help but be a little angry. If she wanted to prove Mrs Evil McSinisterson was evil, then why pull pranks?
>"Well, then, take her with you when you go, please."
>Moonie lets out a high pitched yelp when you push aside the fern leaves Mrs Evil McSinisterson was pointing to. The mastermind behind today's trouble looking very nearly bashful there. Though, more likely, just sorry she got caught.
"Not a word," you tell her before scooping her up under an arm and walking hastily to the exit.
>She does as she is told. Moonie sits quietly the whole time, even when you place her on the ground outside. You're about to dive right into your lecture when you notice Trixie's head whizz around the corner.
"Stay," you command Moonie before bolting after the escaping mare.

-----

"Trixie!" You very nearly bark, causing Trixie to come to a skidding halt.
>"IT WASN'T TRIXIE'S FAULT!"
"Explain."
>"Trixie thought this was all part of Moonie's plan somehow. Like, 'Part 1: Get Under Mrs Evil McSinisterson's Skin.' You know what Moonie is like, it got all a bit out of hoof."
"Yesterday, when I asked you to help Moonie with Mrs Evil McSinisterson, I didn't mean help her vandalise and cause as much mischief as possible."
>"Yes, yes. Trixie knows... The regretful and apologetic Trixie got... Swept up in things."
>You stand there, sternly glaring at Trixie as she hangs her head lower. Her eyes dart up from time to time before faltering again each time she meets your gaze.
>"That's no excuse, I know," Trixie adds solemnly. It stuns you briefly when she drops the third person but you recover before she notices, "It was pretty clear after the first few pranks that Moonie was running amok, but I didn't care. If you're going to be mad at any pony, be mad at me."
"I'm not mad."
>Trixie looks up in shock, "What?"
"Okay, I am mad. Quite a lot actually. But more than anything I'm really, really frustrated at you two."
>"I know."
"No, I don't think you really do."
>There's a long pause as Trixie waits for you to explain. And you try to. You want to. But the words struggle to escape your lips, your mouth just flaps about a few times. Internally, you try metaphorically kicking your brain as if it were some old motor that refused to start.
"I really thought... I hoped today was going to be... I was really proud that you and Moonie were going to save the day but instead... You've just kicked my legs out from under me by doing this."
>Your hands bury your face as you let out an agitated groan then run your fingers over your head. Trixie looks away, deliberately staring at the wall.
"What am I supposed to do with you two?"
>The most Trixie can manage is a half-hearted smile and a shrug.
"I'm not giving you what we agreed, and whatever you tricked Moonie into giving you, you'll give back."
>"I figured as much on that first part. But she bought me snacks... Which I ate already."
"You know... I'll tell you later actually. I need to have a word with Moonie now."
>Trixie mumbles something to you but it was far too quiet, and you don't feel like stopping to ask.

-----

>Meanwhile as, you, Anon were off lecturing Trixie, Moonie sat before the store. Exactly where she was told to sit. While she is a little annoyed at being commanded like some disobedient puppy, the sense of failure is greater. Though, she does take a bit of pleasure in seeing Anon chase off that traitor, Trixie. 
>"If you ever, EVER," Mrs Evil McSinisterson rumbles behind gritted teeth, "Get in my way again, I shall make you suffer."
>Moonie just stares at her flatly, her expression as unchanged as stone, and watches as McSinisterson's anger erodes slightly. Her eyes examine every inch of Moonie's deadpan expression in a slightly bewildered glower as she tries to figure something out.
>"There isn't enough room in this town for two villains."
>Mrs Evil McSinisterson laughs loudly, throwing her head back before returning a toothy grin toward Moonie.
>"You still think of yourself as a villain? When was the last time you carried out a plan to take over Equestria, let alone this town?"
>Moonie scoffs, "You think villainy is about how often you commit evil? I had no idea I had to deal with an amateur."
>"AMATEUR?! YOU DARE?!"
>"Have you never heard of the long con? When I am ruler once again, they will welcome it."
>And something in those words tickled Mrs Evil McSinisterson the wrong, or perhaps right, way because she grinned so widely she almost ran out of face.
>"We shall see," she replied coolly before stepping inside.
>Her timing was probably deliberate for the dramatic effect. All villains seem to have a knack for it. Because just as she left, Anon returned. Trixie, however, was not in tow.

-----

>"Couldn't catch her?"
"No, I got her," you reply as you tower over Moonie, "Now it's time I had a talk with you."
>Your tone was cool, calm, and collected. Which seemed to worry Moonie. The two of you walked away from UltiMart in silence for some time. While Moonie was waiting for you to start scolding or lecturing, you were unsure how to start.
>After Trixie it felt as of the spring of anger just lost its tension. You never adopted her, so scolding her like she was a child like Moonie was odd but she just seemed to take it. And now you fond yourself at new odds when it came to Moonie. When you set her to a task, you could expect mischief but it got done. Or rather, you would expect mischief. And even if she didn't get it done, there was always a real attempt. This time though? She just ran amok and was just a detriment.
>"Well?" She rudely says in more of an impetuous demand than any kind of request.
"Forget it, Moonie."
>"Forget what?"
"Trying to figure out of Mrs Evil McSinisterson is up to something or not."
>"What? No, you promised to pay me if I caught her out."
>You hand her a few coins. It's only a part of what you would have paid her but considering what she did she is lucky to get even a portion. Part of you worries this is rewarding bad behaviour but this rising weariness in your chest wants the day to be over.
>"Hang on--"
"Her father," you interrupt, "Was the one who came up with the name back when he was a villain. Tried to work out a chemical to put in food to make ponies docile and subservient. So there goes your name theory. Either way, I will sort this out."
>"What about me? I can help," she stammers while staring at the ground.
"Go buy some sweets or something, Moonie. If this is how you're going to behave, then it's best I do it myself."
>"You dare insult me, your queen?" Moonie tried to bellow but her words lost their steam the second she started speaking
>Neither of you say a word for a few seconds until you decide it best to say one last thing. To let how you feel off your chest.
"I'm disappointed."
>And that was the final blow, it looked. Moonie's head dropped as she stared at the ground. No words escaped her lips, no stamping of her hooves, or any kind of rebellion could be found in her. You stood there for a while to see if she had anything to say. But she didn't.
"I need to get back to work. Make sure you're home for dinner."
>Moonie simply nodded. Already you regretted your words. You weren't sure if you went too far because she definitely did, but you've never seen her so... Resigned. You hesitate for a moment then decide it best to go.

-----

>Moonie arrived at Bon-Bon's candy store. It brightened her mood, though only slightly, to see there was a massive candy sale.
>"Ordered too much stock?" Moonie asks behind a mouth full of gobstopper candy.
>"Not quite," wistfully replied Bon-Bon as she counted the coins dropped onto the counter, "Five bits? So, how much are we spending today?"
>"All of it."
>"I doubt Anon will be too happy if you do that."
>"Yeah? Well, I doubt I could make him any more unhappy."
>"So the investigation went that badly then?"
>"You knew about that?"
>"Anon told me about it. He was pretty proud of you, you know."
>"Oh, dont tell me that kind of thing," groaned Moonie as her head dropped onto the counter with a resounding 'thud!'
>"What happened?"
>"Like everything I do. I screwed it up."
>"Ah... And so, you've come to drown your sorrow in candy?"
>"I'm not sad... But, yes."
>"Well, I'm not sure what to tell you really. There's no new candy but plenty of old favourites."
>"I took three gobstoppers by the way, see."
>Moonie lifted her head and opened her mouth to reveal three gobstopper candies.
>"I really didn't need that. Has Anon still not taught you manners?"
>"Yeah, ages ago. He got me with a good one on that. Said, 'you can't break etiquette if you don't know what it is' so now I know what all thirty-five forks are for just so I know exactly how to upset people when we go to Canterlot or the Gilded Giraffe here."
>"Hah. He's a sly one, Anonymous. I can definitely see that getting you."
>Moonie just moped on the counter, not really responding in any way.
>"You know, if you get seven more gobstoppers then you'll still have four bits."
>"Ten for a bit?"
>Bon-Bon shrugged.
>"That's what I have to sell them at to break even."
>"Break even?"
>"Yeah. I'm trying to at least not lose money before I sell the place."
>"WHAT?! SELL?!"
>Bon-Bon nodded, "Yeah, I can't really compete with UltiMart's prices so... I figure it would be best to pack up shop now before I hit the red."
>"But that's not fair!"
>"That's just how it is sometimes. I'm not the only one either, just about every shop is having it tough thanks to Ulti--" Moonie interrupts her by leaping up from her seat and bolting out the door, "Hey! Your money."
>"Keep it! And don't close up!"
>As the filly sprints into the distance, Bon-Bon smiles to herself.

-----

>You eye the clock as it ticks away. The longer you watch it, the more your sense of time seems distorted. Each tick seems both longer and shorter than the last as the hour approaches further into the night.
"Where is she?" You ask the world as you try to keep any edge of nerves out of your voice.
>Eventually panic gets the better of you and you decide the best way to calm it down is to go looking for Moonie. There's any number of places she could be but after visiting the most likely, you'll see about getting help. A malicious little voice somehow creeps forth from the back of your mind to ask a simple question. "You don't think she ran into the Everfree, do you?"
"She wouldn't."
>It wouldn't be the first time she has ran off into the Everfree. But she never goes in there alone, and it's always to play during the day. It's dangerous in there and going in alone at night is one of the stupidest things anyone can do. Once the door is locked, you begin to walk down the steps when Trixie calls out to you.
"Trixie, have you seen Moonie?"
>"She's at UltiMart."
>You glare at her.
>"Hang on, this wasn't Trixie's fault. Beside, she said she has undeniable proof now."
"What?"
>"Yes, Trixie was a bit amazed too. Moonie asked me to gather a few people before she proved it to everypony what a stinking villain Mrs Evil McSinisterson is."
"Uh, well then... Let's go."
>And you follow Trixie's lead as she tells Bon-Bon and Applejack along the way. The four of you head into UltiMart then where the entire store is deserted. The typical supermarket store, that despite playing slow going songs all the time made you feel somehow anxious, is off. An eerie almost ambient silence fills the store. A gentle hum of refrigerators off the in the distance, the motors of the checkout treadmills rumble, and there's a muffled chattering coming from the office.
>"Anon! Trixie! Bon-Bon! Applebloom's sister! In here," Shouts Moonie as she pokes her head out the office door.
>"Heh, thanks," sarcastically grumbles AJ behind you.
>In the office beams Moonie, Mrs Evil McSinisterson is sitting in her chair scowling, and a few shop owners from around town. Peachy Pitt is among them, who gives you an amused but unimpressed look as if to say, "So THIS is who you had on it, ay?"
>"Are we quite satisfied?" Snarls Mrs Evil McSinisterson.
>"Yup," Moonie beams even brighter than before.
>As you find yourself wondering how Moonie managed to convince Mrs Evil McSinisterson to not only let her back into the store but also to hold this little meeting, and empty the store, Moonie somehow reads your mind and states.
>"Anon, I made a deal with Mrs Evil McSinisterson. If I can't prove she is up to something, then we have to leave town."
"Not a chance in--"
>"Told you he wouldn't go for that one," interrupts Moonie amicably.
>"FINE! But I'll get your enchanted armour," Mrs Evil McSinisterson grins greedily.
>Just as you turn to Mrs Evil McSinisterson to ask what she is on about, you notice in the corner of your eye a sneaky wink from Moonie. And now you've clued into the score a little bit. Because the only armour Moonie has, is a replica costume of her former tyrant self. It's not even made from metal or enchanted, just fiberglass to reinforce cardboard and a bit of paper mache.
"I don't approve of that arrangement," you state carefully.
>"But it is MY armour, and I am free to do with it as I please," Moonie adds triumphantly.
>Then Applejack says, "Anon, does she really have her old armour?"
"I'll, um, explain later. I promise."
>Applejack, and a few other business owners, eye you with the most disapproving stares you've ever been subject to. A part of you kind of wishes you could shrink and skulk away somehow.
>"Now then, I have brought you all here because the murderer is in this very room," ominously declares Moonie.
>"Enough with the games! Get on with it," breathes Mrs Evil McSinisterson from behind gritted teeth.
>"You want just the quick way?"
>"YES!" Mrs Evil McSinisterson shrieks.
>"Oh, very well," announces Moonie in a feigned sad tone, "I had a whole bit planned out but this will have to do."
>And with that, Moonie kicks the whiteboard, causing it to spin once.
>"Really? Having an entire evil plan written out in plain view? Honestly, I'm a little disappointed in myself for thinking you were a villain. You're barely worth calling a wretch."
>Mrs Evil McSinisterson shrieks and throws the whiteboard eraser sitting at her desk at the whiteboard in some failed attempt to mask the reveal. Instead the top now reads 'EVIL P AN'
>You find yourself laughing aloud as you read the whiteboard.

•Step One: Create UltiMart
•Step Two: Test Daddy's Mind Control Syrup on the Employee Lunches
•Step Three: Undercut Everyone. Even if it has to be at no profit or a loss.
•Step Four: Buy Out Everyone
•Step Five: Put The Syrip in the Food, Water, and even the Laundry Powder.
•Step Six: Rule Ponyville
•Step Seven: Build the UltiMart Franchise
•Step Eight: RULE THE WORLD

>Mrs Evil McSinisterson begins to stammer as she scurries out from behind her desk to stand in from of the whiteboard.
>"None of that--It's not evil, j-just aggressive business."

-----

>It was all pretty simple after that. Mrs Evil McSinisterson was dragged off to jail, you had a word to each of the business owners who were still very worried about enchanted armour, and then it was just a walk home with Moonie.
"You know, you had me worried when you didn't come home... How did you do it?"
>"Well... I just broke into her office again." Moonie shrugs and laughs.
>Her laugh quickly turns into a cackle, such is Moonie's way, but you join in with a genuinely joyful laugh.
>"Now, about my reward."
"What? You want a parade?" You chuckle.
>Moonie's face lights up briefly before a realisation dawns on her.
>"It'd be as a hero, wouldn't it?"
>You nod.
>"Ugh. No thanks, I have got a reputation to protect."
>The two of you laugh again as you continue to walk down the street as the cold night air whips around you. The stars and the moon glitter above with some of the brightest lights you've ever seen at night.
>"I will admit... I was expecting it to be a little different."
"How so?"
>Moonie shrugs, "Thought you'd get the elements of harmony for one thing."
"Nah. I have no idea how that magic works and I'd rather not go bothering six different ponies when a prison cell will do the trick."
>"If I had the elements of terror, I could have zapped her myself," Moonie excitedly states as she strikes a dastardly pose.
"Elements? As in, more than one? I thought the only terror around was you, my Queen."
>"HA! You've got that right."
>And Moonie's step gets a little lighter, almost a skip, as her chest swells.
"Hang on. Moonie. Wait."
>She stops and looks up at you as you squat down to her level. You hold out the bag of bits, her promised reward.
"Minus what I already gave you, of course but..."
>You can't say much more as Moonie snatches it and stares into the golden contents within with amazement.
>"I've never seen so much," she says, mystified.
"Also," you wait before clearing your throat to grab her attention, "I want to say... I'm proud of you."
>Then you snatch Moonie up into the tightest hug. You have no idea how she's reacting, cause you know she isn't the hugging type, but the swell of emotion was too much for you. You need to hug her, to physically show her that you are a little sorry for what you said and more than anything right now, you are happy about what she did. A tremble can be felt in your arms and you loosen your grip before you feel tiny little hooves wrap around you in a returning embrace.

-----

>Moonie has long since gone to bed as you lie sprawl on the couch. The book you were reading lay open but down on your chest as you replay the day's events over and over. Mainly the good bits. Then you hear hoof steps as Trixie enters the room.
>"Trixie feels like she can be a little bit cheeky, as Moonie did technically solve the Mrs Evil McSinisterson problem."
>In her magical grip floats two bottles, one of which is hovered your way as she takes a sip of hers. You sit up, place a bookmark before setting the book aside, and take the proffered bottle.
"Without your help, however."
>Trixie pouts to which you laugh.
"Alright, you're lucky I'm in a good mood."
>Trixie silently squees as she leaps into the chair to listen intently.
"Don't get so excited. It's not that great of a story."
>"Trixie has been anticipating this story for a long time. Now, tell Trixie, how did you and Moonie meet?"

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