"So, what did we learn today?"

In an odd reversal of behavior, Celestia paced back and forth in front of Twilight, who was sitting on the floor of the throne room looking very guilty.

"Always remember to account for variations in the gravitational force of Equus before launching something out of orbit?" she proposed.

"No!" A gold plated hoof stomped on the marble floor. "Don't launch anything or anypony out of orbit in the first place!"

Twilight mumbled something about Chrysalis totally deserving it, but Celestia pretended not to hear.

"And furthermore, giant explosions are not how you solve problems."

It had been a good few thousand years since Celestia had taken up the throne. She had been required to speak that line to a disconcerting number of her students. Her students, being exceptionally smart unicorns, often came up with memorable objections to not using large explosions to solve problems, including "but isn't the sun basically a giant perpetual explosion?" and "but explosions are more fun!" This, sadly, did nothing to prepare her for Twilight's answer.

"That's not true!" protested Princess Twilight, "The inverse explosion law states that, as the size of an explosion increases, the number of problems it is incapable of solving quickly approaches zero!"

Celestia blinked. In that infinitesimal moment, when a bee's wings flapped only once, and water droplets hung motionless in midair, Twilight had somehow filled a blackboard with arcane mathematical scribbles that apparently proved her point.

"Twilight, I—"

But Twilight was having none of it. "In the 4th century A.N., Tired Lectures managed to prove that a 4th dimensional projection of a high velocity manifold across the basis of time could be used to construct a Hughs-Laurie matrix, which is known to have an exponentially increasing characteristic polynomial. If you take the inverse of the matrix, the law clearly states that the larger an explosion, the more problems you can solve with it. By the time you reach infinity, the number of problems you can't solve is infinitely close to zero!"

Princess Celestia let out an exasperated groan. "Enough, Twilight."

"But—"

"Twilight Sparkle!" The Royal Canterlot Voice echoed through the halls, and immediately silenced the fledgling princess. "As punishment for your shortsightedness, you must find Chrysalis and deliver her to me as soon as possible."

Twilight opened her mouth to object, but it was quickly replaced with a disturbingly mischievous smile.

"Twilight," warned Celestia, "what are you thinking?"

"Oh nothing," said Twilight, turning around and walking out towards the balcony. "It's just that you never specified how fast she had to be moving when I delivered her."

Author's Notes:

This epilogue is due entirely to LunarRai's brilliant comment. While I normally try to make math that is actually sensible when looked at upside down and with a bad pair of glasses, in this case I just made up random crap. I hope it was amusing.