Author's Notes:

I... don't really have a good excuse for why this took so long. I was busy, I guess. And lazy. I had a ton of other writing projects to work on and still do. I've got the rest of the story planned out, so with luck it won't take another month for Chaptem 5.

In any case, here's your Get Out Of Psychology Free Card:

http://pastebin.com/hUkqqxxa

OK, I’m not even gonna tell you the setting. You can probably figure it out.

Brian joyusly DaSHEd thru th ponIVIlle streeTZ, enjoyning th knew, livlier atMOSTphere. “Yaya! he sed I lov dis tOWN. its sowasome! Brine hed, of cors, forgotend teh tim dat PONIes hed trid 2 KEILL him, bt da ponis hedn’t forgotend.

“Twilit!” Rainbob Das cryed. ‘Nowsare chanse! Qwik, wile he’s buzy beig happi nd free!”

‘no,’ Fltgrubbasdflghoaugbershy objectred. “im Fltgrubbasdflghoaugbershy, and I’m th nice 1. I sai we let him B frei.’

‘no,’ Rainborg replid. “im Rainborg, and I’m th aggresve 1. I sai we kill th jerck.”

‘Wel,” Proincess Selestia intreruppted, “im Proincess Selestia, and I’m th nice 1 2, when I’m not th TYrunt. I sai that hes just 2 awSOME fur us 2 KEILL, so we shud let him go.

“im Twilit,and I’m th blind followre, so I agrey!” Twilit agreyed.

“I’m Pinkie Pie, and this joke has really run its course,” Pinkie Pie said.

Brine stoppd prancing arund lIEK thet weird homless guy in yur NEIGHborhood nd wALKd up2 th Princess. “So Princess, whatdo we dew nOWW?’ he askd.

“I know! Let’s throw a party!” Pinkie Pie said. Within seconds, a party was being thrown.

Celesti lowred th sun, whil Luna maed th m00n flash lik a D1SCO BAll. ponys Evrywhere dancd relly weirdly, becuz they were quadrupeds. all th MANE sicks wre flirtd with bye dozens uv OCs. Vinyl nd Octavia playd thet dubstep-chellow mix frm Episod 100, bt it wuz knd of less impresiv wivout all th flashy visuels. 1 Eldrlee poni shoutd at evry1 to turn the DARND musick down. it wuz a big ruckuss.

Brien wuz th star ov th parti, ov corse. Tho previusly, all th ponies hed been afrad uv him, he wuz so niece and likable that now evryponi wuz his friend. For now, he wuz partyig hard liek hed bee young forevvrer and teh parteh wood never stahp nd al thatstuf hed learned frum pop music. hE dansed wiv his new frends thru th streets wiv a joy that hed onli felt previusly when hed been dansing and everYONe else wuz in stoNE. Wen brain realizd this he felt bAD fora moMENt. “Wow,’ he sed. Imma terribl person.”

“Hery Brian!” hiz frends calld. “Com dANTS sum mor.

;I cant,; brin replied. ;i need to tak a momen 2 rethink mai LYfE.; Brin took a momn to rethink hiss LYfE. he navrigated thru th bussling crowds to th snak bar, whre he had a big cupof punch. aS he conTEMplaitd hiz terriblNES, he happned to glanse out in2 th mob uf dancrers. a singl figur cought his I, and he lettout a smal gasp et th site uv her. sHE wuz th most beautifal thin hed ever seen. hre face wuz shapd prefektly, nd beset wiv two eyes liek sparklin gemstons. Sh movd with th grasefull eese of the evenin’ brEEZE, an her main shimmred in th lite like a suPERNOva.

Brian cudn’t controll hisself- be4 he knewit, he wuz aproachig hERR. ‘Excoze mai?” Brian sad, extendin hiz arm to her like a true gentlymen. “MayI HaVe this Danse?

“oH! But sIR Brian, theyrnt playin’ a slo sogn,” hiz lov said.

JUst thn a slo sogn caym on, and bRIan sweld wiv enthusiASM. thus was SEW stupidly conveenient thet it MUST b destiney!! ‘Princes lUNa, he sed, his voice smoth liek sILk. “Mai i ‘ave tHIS dance?”

Luna lookd hezitENT, thn blushde nd took teh hUMANs hend. Hiz knew poni frends gave whoops nd chears fur him as he took lOOna’s hoof nd thy dansed. THy dansed liek profeshunals, fr they wre guided bai a new fealing, 1 bl00mig from dEEp insidE thier harts. thEy dansed like peeple whod jUSt found theselves for th frist t1mE, and brIAN decidded thet he wuzn’t a terible peRSOn aftrer al, for hed nevre trully been happi unTILL Now…

-----

“What you’s think?” Temmie cheered. “I calls it, ‘Romance.’ It may be my defining work. Yaya! Feedback?”

Sweetie Belle stared at the little monster, her expression one of complete bewilderment. Scootaloo’s eye twitched, as if her body involuntarily wanted to close her eyes on this horrific world. Appleboom let out a small rasp, her mouth bent in grotesque shock.

“Whaaaa…?”

“Sweetie Belle!” Rarity called from the kitchen, her voice rebounding through the purple hallways of Carousel Boutique. “Sweetie Belle, it’s lunch time!” Receiving no reply, the unicorn trotted into the living room. Her face morphed into a shocked expression at the sight of Sweetie Belle staring dumbly at her unwelcome guest, and the other two-thirds of the Cutie Mark Crusaders similarly incapacitated.

“What’s- you little monster, what’ve you done to them?” Rarity hissed, glaring at Temmie.

“Little monster? Temmie thought Rarity liked Tem,” Temmie moped, giving Rarity heartbroken, tear-laden eyes.

“No, I tolerated you,” Rarity corrected, “and that was before you inserted yourself into my house and repossessed my study for your inane business venture!”

“Study was mess. Tem make better use of it.”

“It wasn’t a mess, you babbling cretin, it was organized chaos!” Rarity shrieked. As her cry echoed through the living room, she caught herself, and clapped a hoof over her mouth. “Oh, I’m dreadfully sorry,” she coughed. “I let my emotions get the better of me for a moment there. I suppose if you’re going to become a regular feature around here, I ought to at least attempt a cordial relationship.”

“Tem doesn’t mind,” Temmie bubbled. “Tem only needed to hear out of one ear anyways.”

“...OK,” Rarity mumbled. Turning to Sweetie Belle and the others, she asked, “But what has you lot so perplexed?”

“N-nothing, Rarity,” Sweetie Belle responded. “Just… I need to rethink some stuff.”

“Me too,” Applebloom added.

“Err- maybe it’d be best if we talked about it together?” Scootaloo offered.

“Well, why not talk about it over lunch,” Rarity offered, nudging the foals in the direction of the kitchen. The Cutie Mark Crusaders trotted off awkwardly, looking as if they’d just learned an embarrassing secret. Rarity gave a small groan, then turned to Temmie. “Would, uh, you like anything Temmie?”

“No. Temmie have no need of disgusting pony food,” Temmie replied. She reached her paw up into her shock of hair, fumbled around for a little, before extracting a black box of cereal. “Temmie only want the Temmie Flakes!”

“...OK. Alright then,” Rarity sighed. “I’ll just, uh, leave you to that then.” Rarity turned to leave, but froze when she caught sight of the time, or more specifically, the gaudy clock she had nailed to the wall. “Oh my word,” she cried. “It’s nearly noon already? I thought I had half an hour left!” She made to dash out of the living room, but stopped herself. She gave Temmie a glance. “You might want to get your… shop ready,” she croaked. “Any potential customers will be arriving soon.” She sprinted off without another word, leaving Temmie alone in the living room.

Somewhere far above the Carousel Boutique, above Ponyville and Equestria and the planet itself, a light shone, one of many. Its energy, enough to burn for billions of years, radiated outwards like petals on a flower, striking rocks, dust, and anything else that fell within their path.

Miles above a forest that was as dense as jungle, air warmed. Molecules vibrated and vibrated more, and oxygen and nitrogen and carbon dioxide followed the laws of thermodynamics. Cooler, sluggish air made to take the rising sky’s place, and so a gust of wind blew through the atmosphere. A cloud, drops of water gathered around infinitesimal specks of dust, was sent adrift, flowing softly through the atmosphere. While the paths of some photons were newly obstructed, others were cleared.

It was so that a ray of sunlight fell across Ponyville. It crossed terameters of vacuum, pierced the ozone layer, was scattered across the sky. It warmed the sleepy town, peered through branches and leaves, and, finally, passed through a window pane. A bright spot crawled across the soft carpet. A bright spot crawled across Temmie.

Temmie raised her head. She could smell the jetstream whistling like a jackhammer, taste the sunlight refracting across glass, feel the atmosphere swelling and shifting like a breath, and most importantly, she could hear the trotting hooves echoing through the bright streets and across the surrounding fields. These were the sounds of customers, the cries of consumers, the chatter of filled wallets.

And they filled her with determination.

-----

The ringing of a bell sounded throughout the boutique as Time Turner trotted inside. Already, a few others meandered through the shop, browsing Rarity’s selections, making small talk amongst themselves. Lyra and Bon Bon, inseparable as always, perused a rack of frilly dresses. Octavia appeared to be haggling with Rarity over the price of an accessory.

Time Turner glanced across the showfloor. Something was off. It may have been his attuned senses picking up a difference in the normal airflow, or his incredibly refined taste detecting a disturbance in the shop’s feng shui, but something was definitely abnormal here. It took him but a few seconds to figure it out.

“Octavia is an exceptional negotiator.” Time Turner could hear Rarity’s muttering as he approached. “Either that, or I’m just being too easy on her.” Rarity straightened herself when she noticed Time Turner approaching, patting down a loose strand of hair.

“Time Turner. What a delightful surprise,” Rarity greeted. “It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you last.”

“Indeed,” the Earth Pony replied. “Quite a bit, perhaps.” Time Turner pointed a hoof in the direction of an open door. “What’s back there?”

“Erm- excuse me?”

“That door wasn’t open last time I was here,” Time Turner explained. “So why is it now?”

“Oh,” Rarity sighed. “Come here. I’ll show you.”

Time Turner’s eyes widened as he entered the room. “My word,” he muttered with shock, glancing around.

“I know,” Rarity groaned. “It completely clashes with the rest of the place.”

“hOI!” Temmie cried, a wide grin spread across her face. “welcom to… da TEM SHOP!!”

Quite apart from the refined (if not overly stylized) aesthetic of the rest of Carousel Boutique, the Tem Shop was a business on a budget. The whole place was put together like a weathered shed, the walls covered in craggy wooden boards. Boxes were piled here and there haphazardly, and a beat-up trash can stood in a corner. A few weird items sat on a flimsy shelf: a photograph of a white dog, a stick and a bone, a purple potion that emanated a slight glow. And finally, behind an upturned cardboard box, Temmie looked towards Time Turner with a big smile.

“Well, erm,” the Earth Pony stuttered. “This is certainly a… thing. Despite all logical evidence to the contrary, it seems that this is a thing that exists.”

“Come in, come in,” Temmie urged. “Tem stock only the finest merchandise.”

Time Turner glanced to the left and the right, before cautiously approaching Temmie. “My good madam, if you will excuse my rather upfrontness… where’s the shop?”

“Huh?” Tem asked. “What mean? Tem Shop right here.” She gestured to her cardboard counter, on which was sloppily painted the words “Tem Shop!”

“Well that’s all fine and good, ma’am, but… well, you see, you seem to lack the rest of the shop.” Time Turner explained. “No shelves, no racks, no aisles, no displays. I’m afraid I can’t quite do any shopping if I’m not sure what I can buy.”

“No! Temmie have goods!” Temmie cried. “Temmie goods… good!” She gestured frantically to a sign on the counter that for some reason Time Turner had failed to notice.

tem flake- 3G

tem flake (ON SALE)- 1G

tem flake(expensiv)- 20G

tem pay 4 colleg- 1000G

Time Turner gave a very Twilight-esque twitch before he shook his head, as if to clear some rather bewildered thoughts. “Alright,” he said. “I don’t think shops have had menus since prehistoric times, but alright. Um… you do know that this menu is misspelled, right?”

For once it was the small entrepreneur who gave a puzzled look and bent down to re-check the sign. “...Temmie not understand what Time pony complaining about. Tem sure that Tem have firm glance of Temglish language.”

“Tem… alright, Turner, question it too much and you’ll scream,” Time Turner muttered to himself. He gave the menu another glance and raised an eyebrow. “OK, then. On that note, you only have one product listed here.”

“Whaa? Tem not stand for such accusations. Tem have varied merchandise! Tem Shop is general store!”

“How can you be a general store?” Time Turner gaped. “You only sell Tem Flakes, whatever those are.”

“Tem Flakes are food of Tem,” Temmie explained. “Restore 2HP. Very helpful.”

“2HP? What does that even mean?” Time Turner cried. “You’re talking about acronyms and restoration and Tems and all any customer will care about is... how the food (huff) is going to (huff, huff) taste!” Time Turner slowed himself, putting a hoof to his beating chest as he tried to catch his breath. He was really letting this little monster have it, he thought. It wasn’t anything major, just some brain-dead little thing, so he shouldn’t have been so concerned. “Let’s start again, a bit more calmly,” he offered. “What about those things on the shelf? The potion, the bone. Could I buy those?”

“Nooo!!” Temmie cried. “Potion, bone… complete aesthetic!”

Time Turner’s head met the cardboard counter. “If I can’t buy it. Then why. Is it on. THE SHELF!?”

“Hey? What’s the hold up!” a voice cried from the store proper. Rarity, who’d at this point become somewhat sedated, drinking in the shoddy atmosphere and Time Turner’s arguments like an alcoholic drinks in a tipsy evening, suddenly gave a start and flew from the room.

“Oh, I’m so very sorry,” Rarity stammered as she returned, breathless, to the counter. “I was just a little distracted for a moment, but please, how can I be of assistance?”

A purple Earth Pony stood behind the counter, bearing an expression most commonly found on the faces of annoyed Manehattenites. “What was with that delay, Rarity?” Berry Punch barked, perhaps a little too loudly. “You’re usually so punctual about this type‘a thing. What’s back there that has you so distracted?”

“Oh, it’s nothing to be too concerned over,” Rarity said. “Just a little distraction in the back.”

“Huh? Hey, lemme see,” Berry Punch said, displaying her usual tactful manners as she swerved from the counter and barged into Tem Shop.

“Oh dear,” Rarity muttered following the Earth Pony hesitantly.

“Rarity? I can’t believe you’d let a place like this exist,” Berry Punch snickered. “It looks like something your little sister would build.”

“And this price tag!” Time Turner cried. “What does G stand for?”

“Gold,” Temmie said. “Temmie thinks it’s pretty self-explanatory.”

“Gold? Do you mean bits?” the inventor fretted. “Don’t you have any notion of the concept of relatability? If you don’t use colloquial terms and make yourself understandable, you’ll come off as too foreign and inconceivable to appeal to any customers.”

“Ah, calm down, Turny,” Berry Punch chided, nudging the Earth Pony playfully. “I mean look. This one’s on sale for one bit. What’s the harm in giving it a try?”

“What’s the harm?” the critical pony sputtered. “Berry, what if these Tem Flakes are toxic! We don’t know anything about them except that they apparently heal ‘2HP.’ Have they been approved by the Equestrian Health Department? Are they nutritional? Are they even worth a bit?”

“Well, I’ll give it a try anyways,” Berry Punch smirked, sliding a bit across the cardboard to Temmie. “One box of Temmie Flakes, please.”

As Temmie took the bit, something around her seemed to change. The lights were yellower, shinier, and the air more uplifting. The flowers were smellier, the bird chirps more on-key. It may’ve been a choir singing, or just an angel with a real dynamic voice, and a feeling rang through her like the chime of a bell.

First sale…

With an acrobatic spin, Temmie leapt into the air, her look of pure, unfiltered joy. “Tem made… first sale!” she sung, holding the bit aloft over her head. “Oh thank yous, thank yous, thank yous!”

Berry Punch gave an uneasy smile at the little monster’s… enthusiastic response. “Uh, your welcome I guess,” she murmured. “So, uh, I guess I’ll just take those Tem-” Berry Punch happened to glance at her hoof, and her eyes widened when she spotted a logoed box in it, black, with a smiling image of Temmie’s face, held tight. “Huh. When did that get there?” Berry Punch muttered to herself.

“I’m not quite sure that was a wise decision, Berry Punch,” Time Turner warned. “I anticipate an oncoming of Buyer’s Remorse quite soon.”

“Oh, stop being so pessimistic, Turny,” Berry Punch teased, poking the inventor with her elbow. “What kind of petty meiser gets Buyer’s Remorse over spending one bit?” Time Turner just gave a small groan.

“Hey! What’s going on in here?” a voice called from the shop’s entrance. A minty unicorn (no, not Colgate) stood in the shabby doorway, accompanied by a cream-colored friend. “What’s this place?” Lyra asked, glancing around wide-eyed at the brand-new venue.

“In any case,” Time Turner interrupted, “What’s with this last part of the menu? ‘tem pay 4 colleg?’ Why is this here?”

“College! Tem pursue higher education!” Temmie squealed joyfully.

“You didn’t answer my question,” the Earth Pony said. “Why is it written here, with the merchandise?”

“Well… Tem need save money for college. Kind of wanted to be reminded.”

“So… you put it on the inventory?” Time Turner uttered. “You put your college plan… on the inventory?” he repeated. “YOU PUT YOUR COLLEGE PLAN… ON THE INVENTORY!?”

“OK. So maybe Brian is supposed to be a metaphor for parenthood,” Scootaloo suggested as the foals strolled in, dragging behind them a long sheet of paper filled with thesis and analyses, scribbled and crossed out. “And then meeting Luna is a coming of age thing.”

“But why would one character represent both coming of age and parenthood?” Sweetie Belle argued. “I think it makes more sense for Brian to be a satire of the typical tropes of an action hero.”

“Or maybe Temmie’s just a really bad writer,” Applebloom suggested.

“Urk!” Berry Punch’s hoof flew to her mouth, dropping the cardboard box they’d held before. “C-cardboard?”

Bon Bon tapped Lyra on the shoulder. “Um… maybe this isn’t the best time.”

“WHY DID YOU PUT YOUR COLLEGE PLAN ON THE INVENTORY!?”

“I wasn’t expecting much, but cardboard? Seriously!?”

“Maybe it’s political commentary. If the princess will just run off with any old human, then why is she fit to rule?”

“Yeah,” Lyra agreed, an uneasy look on her muzzle. “You might just be right.”

Temmie looked around her slipshod emporium. She glanced at Time Turner, almost frothing at the mouth at the sight of her inventory. She glanced at Berry Punch, attempting to perform the Heimlich maneuver on herself. She glanced at Rarity, just kind of slouched off in the corner, too confused to even attempt to comprehend what was going on. Then she glanced at her little counter, the upturned box, and for a moment wished that she could crawl under it and be somewhere else.

“Hi Temmie!”

The little monster in question shot up, eyes locked on the entrance, and the rather festive pony who stood there. “Pinkie!” Temmie cheered. “You came to grand opening!”

“Well, of course, silly,” Pinkie Pie said, trotting inside. Time Turner paused his ranting. Berry Punch gave a small choke and was silent. The Cutie Mark Crusaders were still, Sweetie Belle still holding a pencil in her telekinesis. Lyra and Bon Bon froze mid-exit, and all heads swiveled to follow the pink party pony. “I wouldn’t miss a day like this for all the sugar in Ponyville.”

“Tem made first sale!” Temmie informed her friend, chattering excitedly. “But Tem not sure customer found products satisfactory.”

“Aw, don’t worry about it,” Pinkie encouraged. “I’m sure it’s just an acquired taste. Here, I’ll take a box!”

“Yaya!” Temmie exclaimed, accepting a bit from Pinkie with joy. “Thanks purchase!”

“My dear Miss Pie, I really don’t recommend consuming that,” Time Turner called, motioning to the Earth Pony.

“Yeah, Pinkie. Those things are literally just spraypainted,” Berry Punch added.

“Aw, don’t be silly. They’re just so good you can’t taste it!” Pinkie assured. “Ooh, speaking of not tasting things, I have some stale pastries left over from last week!” the mare said, reaching into her mane and extracting a couple bulky paper bags.

“Woah!” Temmie gasped. “You gotta… stale bread! Hnnn…” Tem looked torn, her face curled in a befuddled expression as she glanced longingly at Pinkie’s bag. “I gotta have that stale bread. But I gotta pay for college. Hnnn… Tem always wanna stale bread. Tem give… 8G!”

“Sold,” Pinkie said, like always, with a smile. “Good luck on your grand opening,” the party pony chirped, accepting the money from Temmie before turning and skipping off, munching on her delicious box of Temmie Flakes.

The pony occupants of the room glanced at Temmie, then at Pinkie as she exited, then back at Temmie. “You know, now that I think about it, there’s some spare machinery and rusty parts I might want to sell,” Time Turner piped up.

“I’ve got an old harp that I never use anymore,” Lyra offered.

“No, wait. Me first!” Berry Punch hollered.

Tem gave a wide smile. The ponies were clamoring for her attention, barely organized in a rough, jumbly line. More were poking their heads in from the street, before dashing off to fetch their worn gloves or old ballet shoes, and within herself, Temmie felt her soul beating warmly. She could get used to this. “One custemer at a time, please!”