“Wait, I’m on?” Butterscotch said, taking a break from her extremely cherry-flavoured lollipop.

“Yeah,” camerapony #2 said.

“Did Big Mac get over his Fluttershy crush yet?”

“He just mentioned it on his Twitter which you’re supposed to be stalking two minutes ago.”

“Well, excuse me, but I’ve been eating this lollipop.”

“And you can’t check Twitter at the same time?”

“I was about to, but then you interrupted me with this whole ‘you’re on telly’ thing.”

“And you can’t check Twitter at the same time?”

“You can’t just assume all of your Western values apply to my life.”

“But the culture you’re in is—”

“I’m checking it right now, okay? Faust... okay, so he’s over it. That’s good for him, and Fluttershy, and me. How can I make him love me?”

“Stop stalking him?”

“Why?”

“It’s what he’d want you to do.”

“It’s for his own good. And he’s never explicitly said he doesn’t like the stalkers.”

“How does stalking benefit him?”

“Well, we’re making him money. Like all the merchandise we buy.”

“And if you didn’t stalk him, you wouldn’t do that?”

“No. But he has never said anything about not liking being stalked. So there. Your entire point of ‘it’s what he’d want you to do’ isn’t even based on any facts anyway.”

“Yes, he has.”

“Once he explicitly says ‘don’t stalk me’ on somewhere recorded, I’ll stop.”

“You should ask him. Or do you not want to since he’ll say no and then you won’t be able to do it again?”

“I will. Hey, do ponies still use email or are the only forms of communication Facebook and speech?”

Knock-knock!

“I’ll get it,” Butterscotch said. Then she got it. “ohai Derpy!”

Derpy Hooves mouthed her a letter.

“thx Derpy!”

Butterscotch looked at the envelope and came back to her room, which still contained camerapony #2.

“Hey,” Butterscotch said, “Who’s Klondike?”

“That’s me,” camerapony #2 claimed without any evidence.

“Oh. Then here.”

“Dear camerapony #2,” he read it aloud, “There’s a third one. It’s this. Signed, AmtrakFan.”

“How....”

“I don’t know. Oh, and ponies still use email. At least he does, which is all that’s important.”

“kewl.”

THE NEXT MORNING...

“Huh,” Big Mac said, still in his robe. He took a sip of his heavily steaming coffee. “It seems I’ve got an email from Butterscotch. I don’t want to make her feel special, but the subject is spelt correctly, so she sort of is....”

The rule he set for himself some time ago was that he would only look at fanemail if it had proper grammar, always moving on to the next at the first mistake. It was the fairest way he could think of to go through it with so many hours in the day. As he says, most failed on the subject line and were never looked at at all, but there were usually a few that made it.

“I was wondering how much you really hated all the stalking that’s done to you and if you wanted everypony to stop doing ti,” it read.

“Well, I can’t answer it.”

Knock-knock!

“Who’s there?”

“Applejack.”

He skipped the rest of the formalities. “What is it?”

“Ah heard you talkin’ ta yourself.”

“So?”

“So you don’t do that. Also, where’d you get that robe? And that mug on your desk?”

“It all started last Tuesday....”

“It’s almost twelve,” Butterscotch said. “If he wanted to dignify it with an answer, he would’ve by now.”

“I guess you can’t voyeur on him anymore.”

“No, I asked him and he didn’t give an opinion, so he doesn’t care.”

“That’s not how I would interpret it.”

“Well, you’re not the one whose interpretation matters here.”

“Fine by me, if you get thrown in a prison, that’s your problem. So you still need a regular pony to have hilarious conversations with.”

“Big Mac would do that with me if I could just convince him Applejack’s not worth his time....”

“How?”

“I don’t know. But if I can, he’ll need a different pony to have sex with, and he’ll pick me.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m special. I’ve talked with him multiple times.”

“And he doesn’t like you. If anything, you’re a worse bet than everypony else.”

“Well, if I really need a partner to be on the show more, I can get on a matchmaker site.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Thanks.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“Oh.”

Next Chapter: Chapter 50: Instead of a Milestone Party, Sex and Violence Estimated time remaining: 8 Hours, 11 Minutes