A mare flipped over a large sheet of paper onto the next page. “And so the next item on the list is… ah, the Everfree forest,” she said in an even tone.

Celestia sighed, leaning back in her seat. “What is it this time, Day? Another basilisk attack? Timberwolves getting too close to the farms again? Or did some idiot get lost in there for the hundredth time?”

“None of the above,” said Day Planner. She lifted a stick to point at the lower half of the page. “Actually, this is just about the centennial Burning of the Leaves.”

“I swear I remember the name being more clever than that,” said Celestia, frowning. “All right, so the forest is getting a bit out of hand again. Just do what we always do and send a detachment from the pegasus fire brigade down there to clean it up a bit.”

Day Planner hesitated a moment, chewing her lip. “Um, actually, Princess, I was thinking about that. Isn’t your student, Twilight Sparkle, already near there? Couldn’t she conceivably do the job?”

Bringing a hoof to her chin, Celestia stroked it, pondering the possibility. “Hmm, I suppose there’s no harm in letting Twilight handle it. After all, she is in Ponyville on my orders, so I’m sure she won’t mind taking on a little extra work. Very well, take down this letter for me, Day.”

Celestia cleared her throat, and Day Planner quickly tried to remind Celestia that she wasn’t the one meant to be taking letters, and was in fact a very slow writer, but it was too late. Before a single word of protest had left Day Planner’s lips, Celestia had already started to speak, causing Day Planner to quickly scramble to pull out a quill and some parchment, furiously writing down as much as she could.

“Dear Twilight, as I’m sure you’re well aware, the Everfree forest is in dire need of some maintenance. As my ambassador to Ponyville, it is your job to ensure the safety of the townsponies and secure their livelihood. To that end, as part of my centennial Equestrian maintenance program, I need you to start a controlled forest fire in the northern, western, and eastern sections of the Everfree. Not all at the same time, obviously, but I do need you to take care of all three. Just burn enough to keep the forest in check, and watch that it doesn’t go out of control. I remember that happened one year and took a team of six dozen pegasi with water buckets to put out that village.” Celestia chuckled. “Ah, those were the good old days. Anyway, Twilight, just do as I said and you’ll be fine. All the best, Celestia.” Celestia nodded. “There, that sounded sufficiently diplomatic, right?”

Day Planner swallowed the massive lump in her throat and looked down at what she’d written. Scrawled across the top of the parchment in hastily-written letters was:

Quickly rolling up the parchment and stamping it with a wax seal, Day Planner nodded. “Yep, sounds good to me.”

“Good.” Celestia’s horn burst to life as she tugged the scroll from Day Planner’s hooves and brought it in front of her. Giving it a quick look, she shut her eyes as a flash of light filled the room. A second later and the scroll was gone. “There we go. Now we just wait for Twilight to report back.”

“Yes, princess,” said Day Planner, trying her best to conceal the sweat rolling down her forehead.

Celestia stood up. Smiling, she nodded to the board with all the day’s notes on it. “That was the last thing, right?”

“Um, well, not exac—”

“Good!” Celestia clapped Day Planner on the back merrily. “Let’s go bother Luna then. I’m sure she’s still asleep right now.”

Shooting one last glance back at the spot where Celestia had sent the letter she had written, Day Planner nodded. “As you wish, princess.” As they left the room, she thought to herself, What’s the worst that could happen?

Spike burped, sending a letter flying out of his mouth and into his outstretched palm. He took one look at the seal and then tossed it to Twilight who was busying herself with a whole bunch of fragile-looking glass at a workbench. With her lip firmly clamped between her teeth, and her eyes focused on the noxious-looking purple liquid in the test tube in front of her, she caught the scroll in mid air with her magic.

“Don’t throw things at me while I’m working, Spike,” she said, a hint of annoyance in her voice. “The chemicals I’m mixing right now are highly volatile. If anything were to happen, it could literally end the world in a massive holocaust. So yeah… pretty dangerous stuff.”

Spike waved his hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, Twilight. You say that about everything you work with. I’m willing to bet that you’ve got nothing more than, like, manticore sperm in that thing.”

Twilight blushed. “Well, that’s not all it is! There’s some really dangerous stuff here. Like this—” she picked up an erlenmeyer flask filled with a sickly green liquid “—is incredibly deadly poison. Wait,” she looked at it again, “no, nevermind. This is just the goat urine from yesterday. But still! The point stands that you shouldn’t throw things at me when I’m handling dangerous chemicals.”

Spike rolled his eyes, turning away to look at one of the many overstuffed shelves that littered the basement. “Yeah, it’d be a real tragedy if you were to spill that otter blood everywhere.”

“Do you know how hard it is to get otter blood? That stuff is very expensive! I can’t go around wasting it like it’s your college savings.”

Freezing, his clow just about to grab a book detailing the correct way to hold a croquet mallet, Spike said, “Wait, what?”

Twilight’s eyes went wide. She hurriedly set down the lab equipment and snatched the scroll from the air, tearing it open in one quick motion. “Uh, let’s see what Celestia wants.” She quickly scanned the letter, reading it from top to bottom, which didn’t take long since it was only four words. Once she had finished, she frowned, then read it again. “Wait, what?”

Seemingly forgetting what Twilight had said, Spike turned around and cocked his head to the side. “What does it say?”

Relieved, Twilight tried not to visibly show it then spun the letter around and held it up for Spike. “It just says ‘burn stuff’.”

“What kind of letter is that?” asked Spike, reaching up and plucking the scroll from the air. “Why would Celestia tell you to burn stuff? And why would she be so vague about what stuff and where?” He clicked his tongue. “Hmm, maybe it’d be best to send a letter back to Celestia asking her what she means?”

Twilight sucked in her breath and snatched the letter from Spike. “Question the princess? I wouldn’t dream of it, Spike! Do you know what she does to ponies who question her?”

“Uhh…”

“Exactly! No one knows because no one questions her!”

“Okay, Twilight, look…” Spike brought a claw to his forehead and started massaging his temple with a forefinger. “I know you only left Canterlot a week ago, and you’re probably still a little nervous about living away from the princess, but don’t you think you’re being a little dense? I mean, let’s assume we decide to take Celestia at her word and proceed to ‘burn stuff’. What does that accomplish, and why should we do it?”

“I can’t expect a baby dragon to understand the intricacies of ruling over a large country like Equestria, but I’m sure Celestia has her reasons,” said Twilight with a bit of a sarcastic bite. “Suffice it to say, we’re doing what Celestia says, and that’s final. All she said was to burn stuff, right? So let’s burn something small and say we’re done, okay?”

Spike sighed, placing his hands on his hips. “Fine, Twilight. Let’s just burn this book and call it a day.” Turning back around to the shelf, Spike retrieved the book on proper mallet handling techniques and handed it to Twilight.

“Not the book!” Twilight yelled, snatching the book from Spike and then whacking him over the head with it. “We’re not animals. We’ll just burn this, uhh, whatever this is instead.” She picked up a small scrap of paper with a bunch of numbers and weird names written on it. Spike looked like he was about to hold out his hand in protest, but Twilight ignored him and used her horn to start a little spark near the corner of the page. Within seconds the fire spread across the whole page, burning it into a little pile of ashes on the ground.

Spike looked forlornly at the ashes. “That was my character sheet for Spryke Hammerface…”

“Who?”

“Nothing…” mumbled Spike. With a little sigh, he said, “All right, so mission accomplished then. Send a letter to the princess saying we did what she wanted, then we can go back to doing whatever it is you were doing before.”

“I told you, Spike, I was mixing incredibly dangerous—”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just send the stupid letter already.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Fine, you big jerk.” Yanking a piece of parchment from the stack on her desk, and pulling a quill out of the inkwell, Twilight quickly penned a letter that said they’d done as Celestia asked and then handed it to Spike for delivery. He sucked in his breath, and then shot out a little puff of flame that engulfed the letter and then caused it to disappear. “Now we just have to wait for Celestia to reply.”

“Why would she even reply?” asked Spike, raising an eyebrow. “I mean, you did what she wanted. What is she gonna do, give you a pat on the back and say good job?”

Twilight got a far-off look in her eye. “Sweet goddess, I hope so…”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Geez, Twilight, you’re hopeless. Anyway, I wouldn’t get too excited about getting a reply. That’s probably not gonna—Hurp!” A green flame bellowed from his stomach as Spike burped out another letter. This time, however, he didn’t have a chance to catch it because Twilight’s magic swiped it out of the air before he even had a chance to react.

Twilight ripped open the letter and read it aloud. “Dear Twilight, did you get it all?”

“Uh…” Spike raised an eyebrow. “What does she mean all?”

“I don’t know, that’s all it says.” Twilight flipped around the letter, reading the back for any signs of clarification, and then re-reading the front, but nothing said anything about what Celestia meant. She bit her lip. “Well, I guess we’re supposed to assume that by all she means all of the everything.”

Spike’s face went flat. “Twilight, why would she say that? Do you even hear yourself? Are you really suggesting that you think that Celestia would have you burn everything? As in, literally everything?”

Twilight threw up her hooves. “I don’t know, Spike! I’m just following orders here!” She smacked the letter with the back of her hoof. “Celestia says burn stuff, I burn stuff. She says burn everything, I burn everything. And since that’s what she’s saying now, that’s what I’m gonna do.”

“Okay,” said Spike, running a claw through the spines on his head, “listen here, little miss Nuremberg, just because Celestia says you should do something, doesn’t necessarily mean you should do it. Ask yourself if you think burning down Equestria is the best thing to do.”

Twilight only thought for a moment, then she nodded. “Yes, it is.”

Spike threw up his hands in exasperation. “Okay, I give up. Let’s burn stuff.”

Nodding happily, Twilight said, “Good! I’m glad you finally came around to my way of thinking, Spike. We’ll both be the better for it.”

“Somehow,” said Spike, looking down at his feet, “I don’t think that’s gonna be true.”

As she rubbed her forehooves together, Twilight grinned. “All right, so starting a little spark like I did with that paper is going to take too long. We’re gonna need a bigger fire. Luckily, I have just the thing. You know those chemicals I was talking about before, Spike?” She nodded to the workbench with all the chemicals on it. “It just so happens I was making a fire potion. All you need is a single drop and you can start massive fires. See, I wasn’t lying when I said it was dangerous, Spike.”

“Whatever you say, Twilight.”

“Bet you feel pretty stupid now, doubting me like you did.”

“Uh huh.”

Prancing over to the lab table, Twilight began gathering up all the different containers that held the mixture she was looking for. Once she had a good couple in her hooves, she put stoppers in each of them and then placed them inside a bag. Slinging that bag over her shoulder, she turned to Spike. “So, ready to go burn stuff?”

Spike sighed. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Good, then we’ll start with the library.” Leading him upstairs, Twilight took Spike with her outside the library and then pulled out one of the stoppered test tubes. She uncorked it with a little pop and then held the tube up to the light. “This is for you, Celestia,” she whispered, then turned the bottle a bit and dripped a single drop on to her doorstep. As soon as it touched the wood, it burst into a great purple flame, spreading almost instantly to the door and then the trunk of the tree. “Oh, wow,” said Twilight, taken aback a bit. “That worked faster than I thought.”

Rolling his eyes, Spike said, “Yes, yes, we’re all very impressed with your ability to burn things, Twilight. Now come on, there’s a whole country left to burn.” He stopped in his tracks. “Actually, wait, I just thought of something.”

“Yes?” said Twilight, test tube poised over the entrance of a nearby cottage.

“Shouldn’t we warn all the ponies that we’re burning down, y’know… everything?”

Twilight chuckled, letting a drop fall from the test tube. “Oh, Spike. I’m sure they’ll figure it out soon enough. They’re not that stupid.”

“Well, right, but that’s not really the point,” said Spike slowly. “Aren’t you worried about—And she’s gone… Nevermind.” Giving a heavy sigh, Spike quickly hurried to catch up with Twilight who was already half a block down pouring more of the fiery liquid onto a hospital. Whistling a nameless tune, Twilight skipped down the street, starting more and more fires. When she came upon Carousel Boutique, she noticed Rarity outside pulling weeds out of her garden.

Rarity turned just in time to see Twilight approaching. “Oh, Twilight, dear! Lovely morning, isn’t it? What are you up to this early?”

Twilight held up one of the test tubes, shaking it a bit. “Burnin’ stuff.”

Rarity smiled. “Oh, well isn’t that love—What!?” It was then that Rarity noticed the trail of destruction behind Twilight. The entire hamlet of Ponyville was engulfed in giant purple flames that stretched to the sky, burning even the clouds that were foolish enough to pass by. “Twilight, why would you do this?”

Whipping out the letter Celestia had written her, Twilight proudly said, “Princess’s orders. Anyway, Rarity, it was nice talking to you. Now if you don’t mind, I need to burn down your home.”

Rarity’s eyes flashed with anger. “I will not step aside! Twilight, what you’re doing is wrong! I can’t let you burn down my home, and I most certainly can’t let you burn down the rest of Ponyville either. Imagine if it spreads to the Everfree, or to the next town? How many ponies will lose their homes?”

Her eyes lighting up, Twilight said, “Oh! That reminds me, I need to go burn down the Everfree too. Thanks for reminding me, Rarity!” Holding out one of the test tubes, Twilight tipped it over and dropped a bit of purple liquid onto Rarity’s garden, which of course immediately was consumed by flames. She waved goodbye happily and then trotted off towards the Everfree forest.

As she walked away, Rarity fell to her knees and started to weep. Spike patted her on the back. “Yeah, I’m really sorry about this, Rare. Twilight’s being all weird again. I’m sure she’ll get over it though. This is just a phase.”

Sitting on her knees, Rarity threw her hooves into the air and shouted, “What kind of god would allow this!?”

Spike knew the answer, but decided it’d be best not to tell her.

A knock came at Celestia’s study. She looked up from her desk and said, “Come in.”

Somewhat frazzled, and looking more than a bit harried, Day Planner entered carrying a sheaf of parchment. “Princess,” she said quickly, “I’ve got some good news, and I’ve got some bad news. Also, there’s some really bad news.”

“Well, I don’t want the good news to be spoiled by all the bad news, so let’s hear that first.”

She nodded. “Twilight did as you asked, and she’s taken care of the Everfree forest.”

Celestia smiled. “Oh, good! I was worried she might not know how to handle it. Okay, so what’s the bad news then?”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Day Planner tugged at her collar, then said, “Um, well, she burned down the portions you wanted… but she also burned the rest of it down too.”

Her eyes widening a bit, Celestia set aside her quill and steepled her hooves together. “Oh… I see. So things got a little out of hand, did they?

“Well…” Day Planner bit her lip, “see, that’s the really bad news. Things got way out of hand, and, well, all of Equestria is on fire now. It seems there might have been a slight miscommunication in the letters which may have led Twilight Sparkle to believe that you wanted her to burn everything.”

“I see.” Celestia pursed her lips. “Do we have any idea about what may have caused her to believe that?”

“It’s a mystery, princess.”

Celestia nodded slowly. “How far has the fire spread?”

“Um… everywhere, princess. The whole country is on fire.”

“Well, we better send out the pegasus fire brigade then. Go ahead and alert them to the—”

“They’re on fire too, princess,” said Day Planner, quickly starting to regret ever taking this job in the first place.

“Oh, well is there anyone or anything that isn’t on fire?”

Day Planner bit her lip harder, then said, “No, princess. They’re evacuating the castle now… since it’s on fire too.”

“Ah,” said Celestia, a little too calmly for Day Planner’s liking, “that would explain why it’s so hot.”

“Yes, princess.”

Celestia pushed herself out of her chair and walked over to the window. She looked out over the blazing city with a peculiar disinterest. “We don’t have any sort of contingency plan for this event, do we?”

“No, princess.”

“Hmm… well, what if we just picked the country up and moved it over a bit, away from the fire?”

“The whole country, princess?”

“Yes.”

Day Planner cocked her head to the side. “I… I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not. Even if we move the country, which is impossible in and of itself, the fire would still be on it.”

Celestia nodded slowly. “Yes, you’re right. That was a stupid plan. Okay, so what if we just built a new country on top of this one once it stops burning?”

“A new country, princess?”

“Sure,” said Celestia, turning back around to face Day Planner. She smiled. “Just you and me, Day. We could start over. I never really liked Equestria that much to begin with. There aren’t enough fjords.”

“There aren’t any, princess.”

“Exactly!”

“Princess,” said Day Planner, taking a step closer to Celestia, “if I may offer a suggestion.”

“You may.”

“Wouldn’t it be best to use that machine you had installed the last time something like this happened?”

A little sparkle appeared in Celestia’s eyes. “Oh? You mean the MacMuffin machine?”

“MacGuffin, princess.”

“Yes, the MacMuffin machine.” Celestia stroked her chin with a hoof, lost in thought for a moment, somewhat oblivious to the castle burning down around her. “I suppose I could use it, yes. But I only get to use it around once a month. What if something really big happens and I’ve already used it?”

Day Planner frowned. “Bigger than the entire country being on fire?”

“It could happen.”

“If I may be so bold, princess…”

Celestia waved her hoof. “Please do.”

“I believe it is in the best interest of the country, and in not dying, that we use the MacGuffin machine to turn everything back to what it was this morning before you sent that letter.”

Sighing, Celestia said, “Yes, I suppose you’re right, Day. Very well, bring me the machine then.”

Day Planner nodded. “Yes, princess.”

As the younger mare quickly hurried out of the room, Celestia returned to the window to look out at it. “They are a rather lovely shade of purple, those flames, aren’t they?” she mused. “I suppose once we fix everything, I’ll have to monitor Twilight more closely. It seems she might be more stupid than I had anticipated. Oh well, no harm no foul.”

A few minutes passed as Celestia watched the city burn to a bright purple crisp, then she heard the door open as Day Planner returned carrying a small silver orb. Slamming it down on the desk, she said, “Here it is, princess.”

Celestia approached the orb, placing her hoof on it. As soon as she touched it, it cracked open and split to reveal an inner chamber. “What was the code again? Oh! Right, it was L-Y-O-K-O.” The orb lifted into the air and started spinning rapidly. Celestia glanced over at Day Planner. “Last chance,” she said. “Once I touch this thing there’s no going back. We can still start a new country together, just saying.”

Day Planner frowned.

Heaving a sigh, Celestia said, “You’re no fun at all. Well, here goes.” She reached out her hoof and touched the spinning orb. A blinding light shot out of it the moment she did, and the light started to grow brighter brighter until the entire room was engulfed in white. Then, a moment later, Celestia opened her eyes again and she was watching Day Planner give her morning presentation.

“And the next item is—Oh,” she said, looking around, then looking at herself to make sure she wasn’t missing any limbs or anything. “I guess it worked.”

Getting up from her chair, Celestia walked over to the window. As she peered out, she saw Canterlot the same way she’d always seen it: fireless. “To be honest,” she said, turning back to Day Planner, “I wasn’t sure it’d work.”

“Well, I’m glad it did.”

“Day?”

“Yes, princess?” said Day Planner, cocking her head to the side.

“Remind me to never use you to send letters again,” said Celestia, smirking a bit.

“Yes, princess…”

“Day?”

“...Yes, princess?”

“I need you to take a letter for me.”

Day Planner sighed. Somehow, that job working as a trashmare was looking more and more attractive. “Yes, princess.”