PonyPeaceDay2

>Trottin' down to Fluttershy's, gonna smoke me a lotta reefer
>Trottin' down to Fluttershy's, gonna smoke me a lotta reefer
>you realize you are now hungry for peaches
>well shit, she's probably got those too.
>you realize, too, you were singing aloud.
>Twilight is biting her lip, air escaping like a wet balloon.
>She sputters out giggles, slapping a hoof near your waist, akin to a playful elbow.
>”You. You're so.” Her eyes go wide, pupils dialating, desperately attempting to tear away the elaborate wording and mold it into speech.
>”Loud.” she says it, eyes thinning as if it is a soundly profound notion.
“FFFFFFFFFFFFffuuuuuck yes!”
>You extend your hands skyward, as if scoring a touchdown.
>You've arrived at Fluttershy's house. While your loud exclamation agrees with Twilight, you mainly said it because you arrived at Fluttershy's house.
>Fluttershy cracks the door at your arrival, peeking outward.  Her eyes are as pink as her mane.
“Dude, girl.  I heard you made all this awesome for today.”
>She stares at you, with the one eye peeking out of the doorway. You can smell that she's celebrating with her own stock, alone. With her animals.
>A momentary thought causes a dawn of possible scenarios. Paradox's on things that might be.
“Hey. Hey. Are your animals celebrating too?”
>No reply. Only more stare.
>Twilight cranes her neck in front of you. It's such a slow, carefully deliberated motion, your brain applies a languid slide whistle effect. You cannot stop snickering.
>”C'mon Fluttershy. We just wanna, y'know. Congratulate you.” She rummages around her mind for more delicate wording. “And stuff.”
“You weren't at the party or anything, so we just wanted-”
>”I don't like all those ponies. All together. All at once.”
>Her speech is fast, curt, and to the point.
>you've seen this shit before.
>Fluttershy gets angry highs.
>Before you can muster up an excuse to leave her alone, Twilight pushes open the door. It's not a hard push, but you notice the squint in Fluttershy's eyes.
>”Oh come on Fluttershy, it's not like we bite or anything.” She strolls on inside, incapable of comprehending “that glare.”
>Oh well! You follow her in, eager to see how this turns out regardless.
>You hear the bubbles first, then notice Angel with his own little bong.
>It's a glass chipmunk, and it looks like he's taking hits out of it's ass.
>The tears form. The grin reaches critical mass.  You know what? Fuck it.
“gimme some of that, you magnificent fuzzy bastard.”
>You take a hit of chipmunk ass.  Despite the part of you that had reservations, they dissappear after a single toke.
>Angel brofist.  You return it after a respectable inhalation, squeaking out coughs.
>”You did an amazing job this year Fluttershy. Really!” Twilight begins. “You can't possibly think that your friends wouldn't come by and thank you!”
>She turns to the side, showing off those full saddlebags.  So. Much. Awesome.
>”How did you do it.”
>Fluttershy is her usual self. Silent.  However, she's got a very flat-eyed, snarky glare.  She points to the window.
>You stroll over to it, barely able to peel yourself from the thought of melting into that holy-goddamn comfortable looking couch.
>Outside, you see it.  The field.
>Good god. The field behind her house.  It's all green. You literally cannot see the end of it.
>It takes a moment to soak in the sight.
“Never in my life have I been humbled in such a manner. The scope and scale of your accomplishments for a single season, your tender loving care to breed such an incredible beauty... My god, Fluttershy. You are my new queen.”
>She simply raises a brow.
“You are hereby dubbed, 'Flutterhigh.'”
>Angel nods solemnly.
>”Angel. Stop that shit.” she gestures to him softly. “Oh, and help me if you would.”
>You don't realize what's going on. Before you know it, you're outside and on your ass somehow.  The last thing you remembered was a baseball bat, a blur of yellow, and then a  2x4 with a pair of bunny ears over it.
>Twilight's giggling uncontrollably. “Oh god, why didn't that hurt?” she inhales from the laughter, standing up and shaking off like a wet dog.
>Suddenly, AMAZING idea number umpteen.
>...
>You've made your way to the middle of the field.
>As far as the eye can see. Left, right, front and back. It's all green.
>Jesus, Equestra is AMAZING.
>You decide to make an angel. You flop onto your back and start flapping your limbs.
>This is so going onto your list of “cool shit I've done.”
>Twilight is wandering near you. Everything seems to be interesting, all of a sudden, for her.
>at about the seventh lap around you, she stops and abruptly sneezes.
>Wait. That didn't sound right. Whatever. You continue your angel.
>She sneezes again.
>There is a loud concussion above your chest. A sparkle of purple shimmers above you, and you feel a thump. There is a sudden pressure, like that of weight, making it impossible to breath.
>A very confused Flutterhigh is now sitting atop your chest.  What?
>The sneezes begin to form a series. Every harsh sneeze, another flash of magical energy flares near you. In a little under fifteen seconds, there is a couch, fridge, and angel surrounding you.
>It dawns on you.  Something you never, ever in your right mind expected. Only could your laterally thinking brain, stoked on pot, comprehend this.
>Twilight has a marijuana allergy.
>Somehow, some way, ponies have surprised you again.
>You could call the resulting emotion horror.  When she reared up for another sneeze, it was helpless terror.
>”Ah-”
“Hold it in Twilight! Hold it-”
>”Choo!”
>the adorable squak causes a massive ball of flame to erupt for a split second. Angel is on fire.  Flutterhigh is in silent, mortified shock.  The field around you is in flames, the orange licking from one plant to the next in the arid daytime sky.
>Well. This could have gone better.
>You shove Fluttershy off and stroll off in such an “I-don't-giveafuck” manner that you consider yourself a movie star. The fear you felt before was replaced with giggling apathy.
>You and Twilight make your way out of the burning field, repeated “I'm sorry”'s coming out of Twilight like a machine gun, ungraced by breath between words.
>You stand  near the cottage, upon the outskirts of the burning field. Fluttershy hovers above, her body tiny in the distance, scooting over the flames like you've seen flies do.
>The smoke has attracted the fire Pegasi to assess the situation.
>They cordon off the area. There is little hope; in listening in, you discover that in preperation for the celebration, most of the rainclouds are in storage.
>The smoke would, under normal circumstances, engulf the town for a few days.
>The pegasi cannot have this. They begin to gather up enormous clouds from the burning field, collecting them into a giant mass with their mini-tornado skills.  This is utterly fascinating, as you cannot track the movements, despite your brain continuing to try.
>You notice Rainbow Dash, doing her best as team lead. She compacts a particularly nasty batch into a single, gray, storm-like cloud.
>She attempts to kick it. It's thinner than she expects, her feet getting stuck inside momentarily.
>She turns, obviously frustrated, and rams it.
>Her head gets stuck inside, and she struggles. You can hear the aggravated yell.
>As she catches her breath, the cloud she is working with dissappears.
>Did she just...
>She blinks.  Hovers. She looks at her hooves, as if they are the most amazing, logic defying thing in existence.
>Another casualty of peace day.
>Twilight is merely staring. She has no words.
>Only another sneeze.
>As she inhales, sound ceases to exist. The instant warp of reality causes an implosion. The dark cloud compresses into a black pinpoint. The world is silent for a few seconds, confused glances going between the ponies in the sky.
>You realize, you are about to experience what it must've been like to see the birth of a universe.
>”Choo!”
>With an sky shattering crack, the shockwave knocks you to the ground, Twilight forced to her stomach before standing again. The burning field is extinguished in an instant, the plants flattened to the ground, and ponies are sent flying.
>The gigantic cloud splits like, what you later call, a slow motion fragmentation grenade.
>The clouds of pure potsmoke impact the nearby world and spread.  It takes only a second or so for each piece to dissapate.
>The individual impacts dilute, forming into a haze upon the local populace. The fog is bitter, but there is no doubt in your mind.
“Well shit. Somehow I feel as if this is my fault.”
>Your walk back to Ponyville is quite... calm.
>Twilight is pawing at her nose at the slightest hint of allergy.
>Ponies everywhere are eating, laughing.  Feeling gifted in their understanding of the reality woven for them.
>Doing nothing.
>If this persists, nothing will get done for a few days. The town will stop.
>”Ohmigawsh, what a mess!” Twilight exclaims.  “Look at all of this smoke! Is there anything we can do?”
>It's then you get the final AMAZING idea for the day.
“The pegasi can gather all this up right? Like they did before?”
>”oh. Yeah.”
“Could you compress the cloud again?”
>”Well now that I know how, yes, but-”
“Would the cloud cover Canterlot?”
>Her eyes go wide. “Anon, surely you can't be suggesting...”
“Mail that shit, Twilight."