Apple Bloom woke up. She then rolled over and did nothing for the following thirty-five minutes, followed by a trip to the lavatory for boring morning things. After said boring morning things, she was excited, because she knew it was twelve, twelve, TWELVE!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Unless we suddenly switch to a different calendar,” she said for the camera, “We ain’t gettin’ another one ah these for a looong tahme. Ah feel so ready for tahday!”

Apple Bloom grabbed her bags, put necessary school-type stuff in them, and headed off for a day that was sure to be filled with adventure and fun! She walked happily to school, by some metaphorically divine coincidence seeing Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo just as they were also entering the front school property. They merged themselves into one big happy group of classmate friends and walked together.

“You know what day it is?” Scootaloo said, thinking about how she really only spent about seventy or seventy-five per cent of her time without shelter, so her life really wasn’t that bad.

“Ah know what day it is,” Apple Bloom said, sounding just as excited and happy as Scootaloo, who by the way sounded fairly excited.

“Do you know?” Scootaloo said to Sweetie Belle.

“It’s the twelfth of December on 2012, but—”

“Twelve, twelve, TWELVE!!!!!!!!!!!!”

The CMC did locker stuff and before long, it was time for the day’s first class.

“Well,” Cheerilee said, “It’s time to start the class.” The chalkboard, notably, did not have a giant Greek letter on it. “Are we sure Shortbread isn’t here?”

“He didn’t scream ‘here’ when you called ‘is name,” Apple Bloom said, “An’ Ah don’t see ‘m ‘ere.”

“Very twelve. Now, if you’ll get unit 12 of The Compendium of All Numbers and turn to page 144—”

A colt whose fur had the palish yellowy sand-like colour of shortbread rushed into the room, looking slightly stressed and rushed and such. “Am I late?”

“By twelve seconds,” Cheerilee said.

“I’m sorry, I got stuck behind Andrea and he wouldn’t let me through, then—”

“It’s okay, I won’t dock you the twelve points. Take your seat and we can get started.”

He took the remaining seat.

After a mathematics class whose fun was proportionate to how much you liked maths, some more dialogue ensued.

“How are you gonna celebrate 12-12-12?” Scootaloo said.

“Ah dunno, maybe we can jus’ do a sleepover.”

“But it’s 12-12-12! We have to do something special!”

“Ah know, but what can we do that’s related ta twelve?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do we have to do anything?” Sweetie Belle said. “It shouldn’t be such a big deal anyway.”

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo looked at each other for a moment, then to Sweetie Belle.

“What the fuck is your prahblem with 12-12-12?” Apple Bloom said.

“Why should it be such a major day?”

“‘Cause it’s a repetitive date, you morahn!”

“I know, but what’s the big deal about that?”

Apple Bloom looked at Scootaloo.

“I don’t know what her problem is,” Scootaloo said.

“I wanna kill ‘er.”

“We can beat her after school.”

“Cool.”

The next class, an art-psychology-sex education hybrid, went well, followed by some in-joke-filled talk followed by a class about the history of geography followed by a typography class focussing mostly on avoiding things like rivers and widows and orphans and stuff. After at least one of these classes and perhaps some outside of what were listed, the CMC got some lunch and a table. Not like they got a free table to take home, that was only for the student with the highest grades at the end of the year.

“Do you ponies really want to beat me repeatedly?” Sweetie Belle said, ready for a revelation that either her friends were jerks who wanted to hurt her or jerks who wanted to make her think they were jerks who wanted to hurt her.

“Yeah,” Apple Bloom said. “Ah was completely serious about it. Weren’t you, Scootaloo?”

“Yeah.”

“We’re gonna beatcha up after school.”

“But I’m your friend, why would you do that to me?”

“‘Cause you said you didn’t care about repetitive dates.”

“Isn’t that against free speech or something like that?” Sweetie Belle said, seriously thinking she was going to get something like “oh shit, you’re right, we shouldn’t beat you up”.

“So what, are you sayin’ it’s okay to, lahke, say you hate AJ?”

“Well, no, but how much you like a holiday is an opinion like food or sports, not a fact like books and shows and, you know, works.”

“Well, yeah, but... you know....”

Everyone in the cafeteria stopped talking just in time for Billy to mention his rash cream.

“Maybe you got a point,” Apple Bloom said. “What do you think, Scootaloo?”

“I think beating her is a bad idea.”

“Then we won’t do it.”

Sweetie Belle bit into a pear.

“You could at least say ty,” Apple Bloom said.

“For what, not beating me?”

“Yeah.”

“No.”

“Fahne.” Apple Bloom bit into an apple.

“...Should I be eating something?” Scootaloo said.

“M mw mw,” Apple Bloom said.

“It doesn’t matter,” said Sweetie Belle.

And so with the last scene of the episode suddenly cancelled, the chapter was forced to end with the best sleepover ever! Tequila was playing from a radio in Apple Bloom’s room as the CMC played Verenhimo!.

“7 and pink,” Sweetie Belle said.

“I can see,” said Scootaloo. “I’ll bet you... two of my fruit carts on Arctic Street.”

“Ah think Ah’ll stay outta this one,” Apple Bloom said.

“I’ll put a corn plantation in the pot,” Sweetie Belle said. “You good with that?”

“Yep, I’m good.”

Someone knocked Apple Bloom’s door.

“Enter,” Apple Bloom said.

Big Mac opened the door. “Do you want fruit kick or uppercut?”

“Uppercut,” Scootaloo said.

“It doesn’t matter because Sweetie Belle has to get it because she’s a unicorn,” Big Mac said.

“That’s racist,” Sweetie Belle said.

“Last time you didn’t carry them—”

“I know, but you’re not Apple Bloom.”

“No promises,” Big Mac said. He closed the door.

“Okay,” Scootaloo said. She drew a card out of the card containment unit that quiz-based board games tend to have. “In the famous single Every Single Song, what were the three things Jilefeaun’s character said she ‘loved like water’?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never heard that song.”

“Love, life, and a good rotten pancreas.”

“Okay....”

“Think you’ll live without your corn?”

“I’ll be fine.”

Even though it would’ve been convenient for the plot, Big Mac wasn’t there yet.

“Your turn,” a disembodied voice coming from the ceiling said.

“Ah know,” Apple Bloom said

“You know what?” Scootaloo said.

“Respondin’ ta the voice comin’ from the ceilin’ that said it was mah turn.”

“What are you talking about?”

“There was a voice from... did you hear it, Sweetie Belle?”

“No.”

“That’s weird that you ponies didn’t hear it....”

“Could somepony open the door?” Big Mac said.

Sweetie Belle opened the door with only the power of her mind and subsequently took the cups or juice boxes or whatever was being carried, again with only the power of her mind, and distributed them appropriately. The rest of the chapter was about a game of Verenhimo!.

Next Chapter: Chapter 154: The Show That Only Gets Watched Because It’s Next to Withstander Estimated time remaining: 1 Hour, 55 Minutes