“Look, Your Majesty: first of all, there is no way you can use this as your story’s title!”

Chrysalis snorted at the changeling standing in front of her that was currently holding the manuscript that she had poured years of work into. “Why not, 1938?”

The changeling sighed. “I have a name, you know.”

Chrysalis waved a hoof dismissively. “Right, Broken Glass or something—”

“—Crystal Night. My brother’s name is Broken Glass. He led the Canterlot offensive.”

Chrysalis smirked. “That’s probably why I remember his name as opposed to yours.”

Crystal Night sighed. “Whatever. Anyway, you can’t use this as the title. And why do you number all of us, anyway?”

Chrysalis shrugged. “Well, there’s just so many of you. I’m not really good with names.”

Crystal Night stared at Chrysalis, then back at the manuscript. “I can see that…”

Chrysalis glared at Crystal Night. “What’s wrong with the title, anyway?”

Crystal Night rolled his eyes. “Well, for one, it’s obscene.”

Chrysalis groaned. “But it describes the main character perfectly!”

“It’s obscene, and that’s all there is to it. There’s no way that this’ll get past any publisher.”

“But I really like it!”

Crystal Night glared at Chrysalis. “My Queen, there is no way that any publisher would dare touch a book titled ‘Rape Wound the Sexicorn’.”

“Why not?”

Crystal Night stared at Chrysalis, then facehoofed. “I already told you, it’s obscene. And what the hay is a sexicorn, anyway?”

Chrysalis’s eyes widened. “Oh! That’s a portmanteau between sex and alicorn. I made it up myself.”

Crystal Night pressed his eyes shut, then opened them. “I’m aware that it’s a portmanteau. I am asking you, what the hay is a sexicorn?”

Chrysalis grinned. “Oh, okay. That’s the alicorn of sex.”

Crystal Night raised an eyebrow. “The alicorn of... sex?”

“Yes,” Chrysalis said as she nodded, “the alicorn of sex.

Crystal Night blinked. “Are you even aware of how alicorns work, my Queen?”

“Somewhat,” Chrysalis quavered, “but feel free to refresh me.”

“Alright,” Crystal Night said. “Alicorns are either connected to a celestial body, in the cases of Celestia and Luna, or to a nebulous concept, as evidenced by Mi Amore Cadenza or Twilight Sparkle. Sex is neither of those things.” Crystal Night inhaled and exhaled. “Try something like lust or eroticism.”

“Ooooh,” Chrysalis said while grinning, “Rape Wound the Lusticorn is a much better title!”

“No—you don’t understand,” Crystal Night said while shaking his head, “the Sexicorn is not the problem. ‘Rape Wound’ is.”

“What’s wrong with Rape Wound?” Chrysalis asked through gritted teeth.

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously.”

“My stars, I can’t believe I have to explain this to you.” Crystal Night put his face into his hooves. “My Queen, you cannot put the phrase ‘Rape Wound’ in the title of a story. Rape is an intrinsically taboo act for ponies.”

“What do you mean?” Chrysalis asked. “I rape ponies all the time.”

Crystal Night facehooved again. “Yes, I know. I’ve raped ponies, too. That’s not the point. You are writing a novel to be sold to ponies. Your audience finds this act intrinsically offensive. They will not publish a novel that has the words ‘Rape Wound’ in the title.”

“Fine,” Chrysalis said as she looked away. “What do you suggest I change the title to?”

Crystal Night smiled. “Well, it’s refreshing to see that you’re willing to kill your darlings,” he said. “I would suggest changing the pony’s name—”

“—No!” Chrysalis shouted as she turned her head back to face Crystal Night. “I will not change Rape Wound’s name! It’s important to her character!”

Crystal Night groaned. “And how exactly is her being named Rape Wound important to her character?”

“Well,” Chrysalis said as she sighed, “her mother named her Rape Wound because she’s a child of rape, and the main drive of the story is her overcoming her name, and therefore her destiny.”

Crystal Night blinked. “Well, then,” he said as his eyes widened, “that’s... actually a very encouraging message.” He then squinted at Chrysalis. “You’re still terrible for coming up with that name, though.”

Chrysalis put her hoof to her mouth and giggled. “My mother used to say the same thing to me all the time.”

“That explains a lot,” Crystal Night said. “So, if you’re not willing to budge on the name, what do you suggest we change to title to?”

“Hmmm,” Chrysalis said as she tapped her chin, “how about ‘Tainted Star’?”

“I like it,” Crystal Night said with a smile. “‘Tainted Star’ it is, then.” Crystal Night then paged through the manuscript. “I’ve also noticed several instances where the text just says ‘sex happens’ in brackets. I assume you’ll be filling these in at some point?”

“No,” Chrysalis said as she shook her head, “I was going to, but I decided against it.”

“Why not?” Crystal Night looked up at Chrysalis.

“Well,” Chrysalis continued, “I’ve decided to leave it in as a metatextual commentary on the prevalence of sex in literature.”

Crystal Night blinked. “I’m... not even sure if that makes any sense. Besides, you write a good portion of the clop on the literature market under your pseudonym—”

“—ponysona—”

“... ponysona,” Crystal Night said with a groan, “Toxic Love.” Crystal Night facehooved again. “My word, you really are terrible with names.”

“Hey!” Chrysalis said as she glared at Crystal Night. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Crystal Night sighed. “Well, for one, you named the antagonist ‘Terrible Villain—’”

“—Only his mother calls him that,” Chrysalis said. “He goes by ‘Terri’, usually.”

“And that makes it so much better.” Crystal Night rolled his eyes. “Why didn’t you just name him Malicious?”

Chrysalis’s eyes widened. “Ooooh, good idea!”

“That wasn’t a suggestion,” Crystal Night said, “that was sarcasm.”

Chrysalis snorted. “Whatever.”

“Continuing on—” Crystal Night flipped through more pages of the manuscript “—you named the protagonist’s boyfriend ‘Muscles’.”

“There’s a pony in Ponyville named Bulk Biceps.”

“Really?” Crystal Night asked.

“Yes, really.”

“Oh, well then, never mind,” Crystal Night said. “By the way, what’s ‘wisteria’?”

Chrysalis sucked her teeth. “A color.”

Crystal Night looked at Chrysalis and narrowed his eyes. “I’m aware that it’s a color by the context of the sentence. What color is it?”

“It’s not important.”

“Alright, then,” Crystal Night said as he paged through the manuscript some more. “Now, as for the novel itself, I really don’t have many complaints. I especially like how you foreshadowed the dance battle in the final chapter.” Crystal Night then stopped and looked up at Chrysalis. “Isn’t wisteria a shade of purple?”

“Maybe,” Chrysalis said as she looked up.

“Let me check something.” Crystal Night leafed through the pages some more. “Yes, the main character is wisteria with an indigo mane, and Muscles is… is...” Crystal Night trailed off. He then looked up at Chrysalis.

“You’re writing incest.”

Chrysalis blushed a shade of cream. “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are! Muscles is a white unicorn stallion with a blue mane and… Rape Wound,” he said with a shudder, “is a wisteria alicorn with an indigo mane! You are writing incest!”

“And what exactly makes it incest? Rape Wound and Muscles aren’t related.”

Crystal Night pressed his eyes shut, then opened them. “The main character and Muscles closely resemble Princess Twilight Sparkle and Prince-Consort Shining Armor. Don’t you think somepony might have a problem with that?”

“Who would have a problem with that?”

“Oh, I don’t know—how about Princess Twilight Sparkle and Prince-Consort Shining Armor?”

Chrysalis huffed. “I don’t see why they would have a problem with that. The work is clearly meant to be parodic in nature.”

“The courts might not see it that way. And since you’ll be defending your work against two members of royalty, they probably won’t. Now change their colors!”

Chrysalis glared at Crystal Night. “And why should I?”

“To avoid unnecessary legal trouble.”

Chrysalis pursed her lips together. “Fine. What should I change them to?”

“I don’t know,” Crystal Night said as he shook his head. “You pick.”

“Hmmm,” Chrysalis said as she tapped her chin, “how about for Muscles… yellow coat with a purple mane?”

“Good.” Crystal Night nodded. “That works.”

“And for Rape Wound—” Crystal Night shuddered “—red coat with a black mane—”

“—No!” Crystal Night shouted. “Not red and black! This is a novel, not a comic book!”

“Fine.” Chrysalis narrowed her eyes at Crystal Night. “How about a green coat with a blue mane?”

“That’s fine.”

Chrysalis smiled. “Sounds good. So, what do you think of the novel overall?”

“Well,” Crystal Night said, “mechanically, it’s sound.”

“And the plot?”

Crystal Night sighed. “Well, it’s technically a plot… but it’s utterly bizarre. I mean, between the Lusticorn powers, her boyfriend betraying her for cupcakes, Terrible Villain needing to control the world’s rabbits to gain power and the insane side-plot concerning the potato invasion, the story is flat out ridiculous. Not to mention the bracketed ‘sex happens’ breaks and the main character’s name.”

“I see,” Chrysalis said while nodding. Her horn then glowed a lustrous green. “How would you like to die?”

Crystal Night stared Chrysalis in the eyes. “You don’t have the stones.”

“Why wouldn’t I? Just one zap, and poof! You’re dead.”

“Because,” Crystal Night said, “I’m the only changeling in the hive with a Master’s degree in literature and therefore the only changeling capable of editing your manuscripts. You’d be lost without me.”

Crystal Night and Chrysalis stared at each other, engaged in a battle of wills for a few tense seconds. Finally, Chrysalis’s horn lost its glow. “Damn it, you’re right. It’s not like I can just grow an editor.”

Crystal Night nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

“But I’m still submitting the novel for publishing once I finish the changes that you requested.”

Crystal Night’s eyes popped open. “What? But that’ll ruin Toxic Love!”

Chrysalis snickered. “I’m not releasing it under Toxic Love, you dolt. Although your lack of confidence is disturbing.”

“Then who’re you releasing it under?” Crystal Night asked while raising an eyebrow.

“A new ponysona,” Chrysalis said as she lowered her head to meet Crystal Night at eye level. “A certain Summer Night with a yellow coat, a red mane and a lightning bug for a cutie mark.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because,” Chrysalis said as an evil grin drew itself across her face, “you’re going to play Summer Night when Toxic Love introduces her to the publisher.”

Crystal Night blinked. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Crystal Night shook his head and backed away. “No! There is no way that I will be attached to this dreck in any way!”

“You will, or I’ll assign you to hatchling duty.”

Crystal Night stared at Chrysalis as he shuddered. He then lowered his head. “...Fine.”

Chrysalis raised her head and grinned. “That’s what I thought, Summer Night.”

Crystal Night dropped to his haunches and shook his head. “How do I get myself into these messes?”

“Because—” Chrysalis grasped her masterpiece in her magic “—you went to college for literature.”

“I know,” Crystal Night said. “My mother said I should get a degree in something useful, like mechanical engineering, but the lure of the written word was too great to resist.”

“And now you’re stuck with me,” Chrysalis said with a grin.

“Yes, I am,” Crystal Night said, “editing your clop novels and… whatever the flying feather that is.” He motioned towards the manuscript.

“This?” Chrysalis asked. “This is the next great Equestrian novel!”

“Hardly.”

Crystal Night sat alone in a quiet corner of the caves containing the hive. His eyes darted left and right across the pages of the book cradled in his magic. A wan smile graced his features as he turned page after page. To him, it was one of the few joys he had in life: no guard duty, no upcoming invasion… just he and his books.

His peace was interrupted by the sounds of whooping and hollering. He shook his head, closed the book and set it down as a very excited Queen Chrysalis entered his space, holding a newspaper in her magic. He looked up disinterestedly at his Queen’s face, upon which a wide grin was plastered.

“What is it, Your Majesty?” he asked.

Chrysalis slammed the newspaper down in front of him. “Read it and weep.”

Crystal Night grasped it in his magic and raised an eyebrow at what he read. “It says they’re burning ‘Tainted Star’ in Vanhoover.”

Chrysalis nodded. “I know! Isn’t that great?”

Crystal Night set the paper down. “Great? How is this great?”

“Well, for one, it means they’re buying it.”

“Alright, I guess that’s a plus.” Crystal Night sighed. “But it means they’re not reading it.”

Chrysalis nodded towards the paper. “Keep reading.”

Crystal Night shook his head as he grasped it back in his magic and continued reading the article. He lowered it and stared at Chrysalis. “It says here that Princess Twilight Sparkle is speaking out against the book burnings… and that she read the book and liked it.”

“I know!” Chrysalis nodded as she bit her lower lip. “Isn’t this exciting? I have an endorsement from Equestrian royalty, plus the book burnings…” Chrysalis squealed. “So much free press!” She then glared at Crystal Night. “And you said it wouldn’t be popular.”

Crystal Night buried his face into his hoof, then lifted it. “I didn’t say it wouldn’t be popular. I said it wasn’t any good.”

“How is that any different?”

“Well,” Crystal Night said, “popularity is a function of attention, while quality is a function of substance.” He looked Chrysalis in the eyes. “While your book may be getting a lot of attention, it is a literary holocaust concerning quality.”

Chrysalis snorted. “I don’t see you writing any masterpieces.”

“It’s not a master—”

“Why don’t you try writing something?”

“As I was trying to say, it’s not a—”

“Come on, it can’t be—”

“Your story is bad and you should feel bad!” Crystal Night roared, causing Chrysalis to recoil. He blinked and immediately realized what he had done. “I’m… I’m sorry, Your Majesty—”

“Hatchling duty. One month.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“Get your rump in the nursery, or I’ll make it six months.”

“...Fine.” Crystal Night wearily stood up and trotted off. “It’s not like the book I was reading was any good anyway,” he said as he left Chrysalis alone.

Chrysalis blinked, a single tear escaping her eye as she fell onto her haunches. “That’ll teach him to criticize my magnum opus,” she said as she sniffed. She then looked at the book that Crystal Night was reading, grasping it in her magic and taking a look at the cover. A smile crawled across her face as she read the title: ‘The Lonely Horticulturalist’.

“That’s one of mine,” she said. “Perhaps I’ll make it a week instead.”