Twilight Sparkle was a patient pony. She was a calm, focused, difficult to distract mare with a talent for studying that far transcended the noise and chaos that surrounded her. She was not distracted. Not by the loud, bellowing song, or the inexplicable instrumental accompaniment that was originating from absolutely nowhere, or even the constant prodding in the side. She would remain unfazed by the mysterious clucking noises or the excited babbling that could not possibly be accompanying the song.
She would remain focused. She was a wizard. Maybe not officially, since official wizards only existed in story books for children, but in her heart she knew – she was a wizard, and she was going to do herself proud. And even if she wasn’t a wizard, she was a girlfriend. And as a girlfriend she had made a promise. And breaking that promise would mean she didn’t get to make o – would mean that she was a bad girlfriend! And if there was one thing Twilight Sparkle would never be willing to be, it was a bad girlfriend.
So it was that, as she stood beneath the stars with her eyes closed and the mare she loved beside her - and apparently behind her, on her other side, somewhere off in front of her and standing on her head as well – she retained absolute, complete focus on the tiny pile of rocks that sat before her. It was only simple transformation magic. It would be easy. All she had to do was help Pinkie Pie achieve her bizarre goal of…what had she called it? Giving her oldest friend a body of her own? It made no sense, either way – but she supposed she could see Pinkie having a pet rock as a child.
Sure, there had initially been maybe a few, very slight concerns about whether turning a pile of rocks into a living creature was entirely ethical – but Pinkie had put those to rest by assuring her that a puppet body was just perfect. And really, she didn’t see the harm. She always talked to herself this much when performing dangerously unstable magical spells for no reason other than because a perplexingly pretty pony had batted her eyelashes.
She really, really wished that chicken would be quiet.
With a long, shuddering sigh she let the magic flow through her, focused completely on the pile of chickens. Rocks. The pile of rocks. Not the chicken. And not the soft, sweet smelling hoof the had just begun to trace its way across her face, tickling her nostrils and…and not distracting her from the rocks. Because the rocks were what mattered. To Pinkie. And to her. Because they mattered to Pinkie.
As the magic flared in her horn, she took aim – only for a soft pair of lips to meet her own at exactly the wrong moment. Her eyes fluttered open, and she saw pink. And then she saw brown. There, perched atop Pinkie’s head, was a chicken – it stared down at her with its dark eyes, and as much as she tried to divide her attention equally between safely disposing of her incredibly dangerous spell and engaging in sweet, sweet makeouts – though not in that order – all she could think of was the chicken.
Pinkie pulled her closer, and she felt pleasure flow through her – pleasure, and highly unstable transformation magic.
Rarity was not often awoken in the middle of the night. This was largely because most of the population in Ponyville valued their lives, or at least their peace of mind. Very, very few ponies wanted to be on the bad side of an angry Rarity – and of the two that were willing to take the risk, she knew for a fact that Sweetie Belle was tucked up and pretending to sleep soundly in the next room.
So it was that when she opened the door to the boutique, cutting short the loud, hammering knocking that had woken her, she was not at all surprised to find herself face to face with…
A chicken. Okay, admittedly that was a little surprising. But the fact that the chicken was being waved in her face by Pinkie Pie somehow killed what little shock she might have been able to otherwise muster. Still, the crazed babbling from the Pink Pony had a different feel, this particular night – Pinkie wasn’t excited or happy or laughing or worse just dropping by. She was frightened.
“Twilight! Chicken! Magic! You gotta help! Fix it! Fix her!” Pinkie pointed the chicken at her, nodding frantically, and Rarity let out a tired sigh.
“She turned herself into a chicken, this time?”
The pink pony nodded, wordlessly.
“Pinkie, do you recall the conversation we had about not distracting her? At all?”
The pink pony nodded again.
“I see. And are you ever going to bother listening to me when I offer you good advice?”
Pinkie Pie shook her head slowly, face unchanging, and Rarity nodded.
“Right then. Run over to the library and fetch Spike – I don’t have the magic for this, we’ll need Celestia. I’ll take Twilight and make sure she doesn’t get herself in trouble. You remember what happened last time, with the snakes.”
The pink pony was gone before she finished, and the door swung shut slowly. As she levitated the chicken into the ever-waiting pen and slumped slowly over her kitchen table with a dramatic sigh, Rarity was doing her very best not to laugh.
Commentary from Donny’s Boy
And then, Twilight Sparkle was a chicken. The entire thing was funny, with Twilight’s distracted narrative monologue at the beginning, but it’s Rarity at the end who takes the cake. “She turned herself into a chicken, this time?” Everything that says about the backstory here, about Pinkie’s relationships with both Twilight and Rarity, is absolutely hilarious. All of my love for Rarity, here.