Once upon a time there was a purple pony by the name of Twilight Sparkle.

We were quite neutrally associated, her and I. Before the events of this story, at any rate. Oh, there’d been a few tense moments in our relationship, what with me fiddling with her friends’ fragile grasp on sanity and dismantling the fabric of reality—but I preferred to think that was all in the past. Let by-gones be by-gones, I’ve always said. And I usually mean it, too.

Mostly.

How then, did we become mortal enemies? Sworn to oppose each other in all things? Well, it's really quite simple. She, ah... did something to me. Something so terrible that it pains me even now to retell it for the sake of your meager pleasure. I shouldn't, really. I wouldn't. I couldn't.

But I will. Just for you.

I was on a routine visit to Fluttershy’s cottage, to shoot the breeze and catch up on the buzz. And also to talk. Fluttershy and I were doing that rather often, you see, what with our newly-forged friendship. It wasn’t a particularly exciting way to spend time together, compared to bending natural laws and breaking legal ones, but I’ve always been one to sacrifice for my friends.

Enter our villain, Twilight Sparkle. Well, no, actually—enter me, into Fluttershy’s cottage. Twilight was waiting for me there, as it turned out. As soon as I swam through the door I saw her, staring at me with her freakish purple eyes. That should have been my cue to run for the hills—or, at least, the valleys—but I was so young and naive last Thursday, and like the fool that I was, I did not try to escape.

It was to be my most grievous mistake.

“Ah, hello, my dear Twilight,” I said, greeting her with a customary pie to the face. “I don’t suppose you know where Fluttershy is?”

Twilight wiped the cherry filling from her face and glared quite angrily at me. “Fluttershy’s... in the kitchen,” she growled, gritting her teeth. She took a deep breath and masked her baseless hatred for me behind a smile. “She wanted to make some snacks for the interview.”

“Interview?” I asked quizzically. “An interview, you say? For whom?” A camera appeared in my paws, entirely of its own accord. “I’m excellent at conducting them, you know. You merely have to say the word, and I’ll—”

“It’s for you!” said Twilight, with obviously malicious glee. “You see, I’ve been planning to write an essay on the history of Equestria, and I realized that some of the most ancient history of Equestria actually falls under the period of your reign, and blah blah blah blah. Blah blah blah blah blah. Blah blah blah, blah? Blah!”

Too late, I realized I’d been set up. Somehow, it seemed Twilight had manipulated my good friend Fluttershy into condoning an insufferably boring interview with me. This too might have been a good time to make a break for it, but at precisely that moment Fluttershy trotted out with a plate of warm gingerbread ponies—and I do so love her gingerbread ponies.

“I’m really sorry that I didn’t tell you Twilight would be here,” said Fluttershy, caring and kind as always. “But she was so, um... so... Well, she did say it would be an important breakthrough for Equestrian history, and you told me earlier that you liked to talk about yourself, so I just thought...”

“No, no, Fluttershy,” I told her, tipping the tray of deliciously warm gingerbread cookies into my gullet. “Don’t blame yourself for this one. I understand perfectly that you did your best to look out for my interests, and that it was all Twilight’s fault.

“Blah blah blah blah!” said Twilight indignantly. Or something very much like that, at any rate. I can’t say what it was for certain. I don’t pay much attention to undue slander against my person.

“Oh, um...” said Fluttershy, looking down at her hooves. “Well, I wouldn’t say that, exactly... but, well, it seems very important to her research, and I was just wondering if maybe you would be willing to... You know...”

She looked up at me with her pleading puppy-dog eyes, and—well, honestly, how am I supposed to refuse those? It was clear that Twilight had utterly outmaneuvered me by that point, and there would be no escape from her fiendish designs. Checkmate. Yahtzee. Bingo.

With the greatest apprehension, I stretched myself out on Fluttershy’s couch and steeled myself for the worst. I was well aware of the horrors I would face at cruel Twilight’s hooves, but for dear Fluttershy’s sake I remained calm.

“Yes, yes, all right,” I said, in a manner much befitting my status as a victim. “Let’s get this over with, then.”

“Thank you, Discord,” said Fluttershy, smiling radiantly at me.

“Excellent!” said Twilight, a sinister glint shining in her eye. She took out her notepad—instrument of torture that it was—and cleared her throat. “Remember, Discord: this is going to be used for academic purposes. Everypony has a story to tell, and it’s important that these stories are recorded so they can be remembered. I want to be able to tell your story here, so at least try to be serious about it.”

You can see how Twilight was an expert at her craft. She didn’t begin the torture immediately, but started first with a barrage of insults and hurtful words. I tried to resist for as long as I could.

Oh, how I tried.

“Yes, well, you can take those stories of yours and shove them right—” but I remembered that Fluttershy was present, and it wouldn’t do to use such foul language where she could hear me. “—up an award-winning essay. For which you will receive condemnation, I’m sure.”

Twilight narrowed her ghoulishly purple eyes at me. “I think you mean ‘commendations.’”

“I do not.”

It was unwise of me, I’ll admit, to provoke her when I was at her tender mercy. But surely you can see that I was cornered, helpless, afraid. My bitingly sharp wit was merely my final effort to defend myself against her schemes.

In the end, though, it did not save me.

“Question one,” she said, scribbling down something dry and academic on her notepad. “Could you please state your name?”

“Gak!” My face grew pale and my body contorted from sheer, unrelenting dullness. A deep breath to gather my wits and push my pelvis back into position. For Fluttershy, I reminded myself. “Discord. Spelled with a ‘D.’”

“There, there, Discord,” said Fluttershy, patting my paw. “You can do it. I believe in you.”

“Mmhm,” Twilight mmhm’d, scribbling again in her notepad. She grinned wide, clearly enjoying the horrible boredom she was causing me. “See? That wasn’t so bad! Now, question two...”

It went on like that for at least fifteen minutes. My mind grew hazy from dry professional dialogue and rote historical recitation. Pointless questions flowed without cessation, beating down my mental defenses and shattering my will. It threatened even to render me sane. But through the mind-numbing haze of tedium, I held onto a single, searing thought: Twilight Sparkle will pay.

Oh yes! By daring to interview me, Twilight had created a very powerful enemy. One who would not rest until she had suffered at least as much as I had. With this single, abominable act, Twilight had sealed her fate. She had unwittingly given me, the great Discord, an insatiable hunger... for vengeance.

And for tacos later, if Fluttershy felt up to eating out—but mostly vengeance. Mostly.