Pinkie Pie sits in a cold, dimly lit room, sulking and unable to lift her eyes. Her hands are cuffed to the freezing metal table, her chair is bolted down and worse of all, they took her hammer.

“I hope you are aware that your actions will not be taken lightly,” says the mystery woman as she paces behind her. “What you did was reckless, destructive, and dangerous. You could have gotten yourself or others killed.”

“They started it,” says Pinkie Pie.

“That's a five year old's argument, Pinkamena Diane Pie. And for the record, myself and a few others managed to pull some strings so you do not face jail time, but we also called your parents.”

Pinkie Pie groans and slams her head on the table. “Why did you have to call them? They're going to kill me.”

“If my daughter was blowing up shops and trying to play hero then I would want to know about it, too.”

Pinkie Pie barely lifts her head up. “Can I at least get my shoes back before they come and get me?”

“Your shoes?”

Pinkie Pie tilts her head down, and the mystery woman peers under the desk and sure enough, Pinkie Pie's striped toe socks are exposed.

The mystery woman arches her brow. “I did not tell them to take your shoes.”

Minutes later Pinkie Pie is sitting in a comfortable chair in a spacious office with her shoes on, her Walkman on her lap and her hammer beside her, retracted into its rectangular carrying form.

As the clock ticks Pinkie Pie shifts in her seat, nibbling her lip and rubbing her hands together, begging herself with every passing second for her rump to stay put. To pass the time Pinkie Pie blinks and studies the room. It is a lot warmer, brightly lit with carpet and has a wall lined with awards, photos, plaques and stuffed heads of animals. For some reason all the heads are turned towards the visitor's chair, though, so Pinkie Pie feels just a mite uncomfortable. Behind the crowded office desk is an older man with dark, sunken eyes, a buzzed head and a uniform of dark blue with lavender trim. His hands are clamped tight together and his eyes have yet to break away from Pinkie Pie. Behind him is a pair of dying house plants and a cracking oil painting of the sun over a flower field.

Tick. Tock. Blink.

Pinkie Pie looks at the mystery woman. She is sitting next to Pinkie Pie, one leg draped over the other and her thumbs working tirelessly on a rectangular device that is making laser noises and cheap explosion sound effects. Her brows are scrunched and every now and then she will twitch or mutter something. Usually with an elementary curse laced in the sentence.

Tick. Tock. Blink.

Pinkie Pie blinks and looks at the pistol in the mystery woman's holster and notices its revolving chamber has a midnight blue aura radiating from it, and she also brings her focus to the boots.

Tick. Tock. Blink.

The boots are scuffed and discolored in spots, and a quick glance at the rest of the older woman's attire reveals that they are not faring well. Pinkie Pie also sees that the woman's eyes are baggy and she has yet to remove her worn gloves.

Tick. Tock. Blink.

Pinkie Pie looks at the old man behind the desk, who has yet to break eye contact with her. His build is sturdy, his uniform is sharp and Pinkie Pie hears a faint humming coming from him. His fingers are also constantly twitching and he has his revolver sitting in front of him, barrel aimed towards her.

Tick. Tock. Blink.

A quick observation is enough to tell Pinkie Pie that the revolver is loaded.

“I still think we should throw her in jail for at least fifteen years, Luna,” says the old man, his eyes narrowing on Pinkie Pie.

Pinkie Pie pushes herself into the seat, but the mystery woman, Luna, shakes her head.

“We already had this discussion, Vigilance,” says Luna. Suddenly her face scrunches and her thumbs work faster and harder. “Freaking die, already!”

“Wort-wort-wort!” says the device.

There is another eight-bit explosion, followed by a ominous gong, and Luna sighs, slumps in her seat, and then glares at Vigilance.

“You made me die,” says Luna.

“Oh, bull. You just suck,” says Vigilance.

Before any more words can be said, the door opens and a tall, muscled woman enters. She easily stands six foot, has a good tan, sharp, purple eyes and is wearing an ankle length, sleeveless, white dress with golden flares on the bottom and a swirling sun on her chest. Wrapped around her waist is a decorative, purple belt with a gold sun and pouches, and around her neck is a purple diamond necklace with a thick, gold chain. However, what Pinkie Pie finds really strange is that the newcomer's hair is made up of light blue, green, green and purple floats like a gentle breeze pushing against it. The hair covers one of the tall woman's eyes and she also has a swirling sun tattooed on each of her shoulders.

Pinkie Pie blinks at the woman, her eyes wide in wonder while Vigilance and Luna snap to their feet, with Luna quickly putting away her device and Vigilance clamping his hands behind his back.

“Good evening, sister,” says Luna.

“Celestia, welcome to Ponyville PD. Always a pleasure to have you. Do you want some tea or coffee or a snickerdoodle? Or perhaps you would like some more coupons? I got plenty I haven't used,” says Vigilance.

Celestia's lips curl to a very odd smile and she stands behind Pinkie Pie, placing her hands on the young girl's shoulders and squeezing them. Hard.

“Actually, I want this one,” says Celestia.

Pinkie Pie seethes quietly and tilts her head back so she can get an upside down view of Celestia.

“Me?” she asks anxiously. “But I'm nobody special. I'm just a small town girl in a small town police station.”

“Everybody is special to an extent,” says Celestia as she relaxes her grip on her shoulders, “but it takes something really special to turn a hammer into a cannon and gut an entire gem shop with one blast.”

All the elders in the room look at Pinkie Pie, and she chuckles nervously and holds the hammer to her chest protectively.

“I plead the fifth,” she says.

“I have no idea what that means, but I just met your parents out in the lobby and I figured I could bring them in so we can have a conversation of great importance,” says Celestia.

She then turns Pinkie Pie's chair around in one swift twist, leaving the young woman's eyes spinning and her fingers gripping her hammer tighter. When she is able to regain her focus she sees her parents standing in the doorway, looking livid and tired.

Her father, Igneous Rock Pie, is a sturdy, but old man, well into his golden years. His gray hair may be thick around the edge, but it has faded much at the top of his head, and his dark suit is but a shade of its former glory. Her mother, Cloudy Quartz Pie, is roughly the same age as her husband, with her gray-opal hair tied into a bun and golden glasses perched on her nose. Her light gray dress is hand stitched, just like her black and white plaid shawl.

With their appearance Luna and Vigilance have to do double takes, and Pinkie Pie chuckles nervously and weakly wiggles her fingers for a tiny wave.

“Hi, mom. Hi, pops,” says Pinkie Pie.

They nods to her, quick and silent, and Pinkie Pie drops her hand and dips her head, feeling nothing but a cold, suffocating dread wrapping around her throat.

“That cannot be right,” says Vigilance.

“Agreed,” says Luna. “Tia, are you sure you called the right people?”

“I am. Mr. and Mrs. Pie, I am glad you could make it on such short notice,” says Celestia.

“My wife and I were nearby on business,” says Igneous. He focuses his harsh gaze on Pinkie Pie. “It would have been unfortunate for my daughter to have to spend the night in misery due to our distance.”

Pinkie Pie shrinks further in her seat, whimpering quietly.

“Pray tell, Pinkamena, were thou not to spend the night at the Apples before Applejack set forth on her training?” says Cloudy Quartz.

“Uh, kinda. I mean, I was, but then Applejack had to do some stuff so I went to town and stopped a robbery,” says Pinkie Pie.

Vigilance snorts and reaches in his pocket to pull out a stick of gum.

“More like blew up a building and let the criminal escape,” says Vigilance, adding under his breath after popping the candy in his mouth: “Loser.”

“Hey, I tried. That should count for something, right?” says Pinkie Pie, looking at everyone in the room for some sign of support.

“Daughter, thou knowest that thou dost or dost not. There is no try,” says Igneous Rock.

Pinkie Pie huffs and slouches in her seat, lips twisted to a moody frown and once again clutches her hammer tight while her legs are straight and stiff.

“The event was unfortunate, but I think we are missing the big picture,” says Celestia.

She pulls from her pouch a small circular device and places it on Vigilance's desk. She then holds up two fingers and guides the light away, leaving the room dark, which brings more curiosity than fear to Pinkie Pie. The same cannot be said for her parents, however. Celestia then activates the device and a holographic projection made up of four different angles sprouts up, displaying Pinkie Pie's fight against the criminals. Or, at least what it can in its damaged state. The silent footage occasionally fuzzes out or is momentarily transformed into a mess of pixels and numbers, but enough is shown to leave everyone awestruck, save for Vigilance who looks more concerned than before about her speed and the mess she caused during the fight.

The footage ends when Pinkie Pie slams her hammer on the ground when the remaining thugs charge her, bringing about a blinding flash of blue light. After its end, Celestia flicks the light on and turns off the device.

“Mr. and Mrs. Pie, Pinkamena has shown to have remarkable traits, but needs help tweaking them,” says Celestia as she puts away her device. “My school can help her so this does not happen again.”

Vigilance scoffs. “Great. So now we are rewarding bad behavior? That lunatic needs to be locked up for what she did!”

“Curb thy tongue! My daughter is no lunatic!” says Igneous.

“Gentlemen, please,” says Celestia. “I understand that there has been a lot of damage dealt, but as Principle of the Royal Canterlot Academy of Supernatural Defense I am willing to allow her enrollment to hone in on her abilities, provided that the damages be added on to the tuition and she does not drop out.”

The group stares at Celestia, and after a couple of seconds of silence, Pinkie Pie raises her hand.

“Yes?” says Celestia.

“What if I don't join your school?” asks Pinkie Pie.

“Oh, that's easy.”

Celestia nods to Luna.

“Incarceration with the damages being transferred to your parents account, seeing as how you are unemployed,” recites Luna.

“And what doeth Pinkamena owe?” says Igneous.

Vigilance wastes no time in giving Luna the sheet containing the estimates, and in turn Luna shows it to the parents, and they take one look at it before Igneous crushes it and snaps his fiery eyes to his daughter.

“Heed my words, young lady, thou art going to the Academy and thou shalt love it,” says Igneous.

Pinkie Pie groans. “But daddy, I don't wanna go back to school!”

“Pinkamena, my words are final and thou shalt cease all arguments instantly!”

Pinkie Pie turns to Cloudy Quartz, lips puckered and eyes big. “Mom?”

“The words of thine father are final, as he hath said,” says Cloudy Quartz.

Pinkie Pie huffs, turns her chair, and lays her head on Vigilance's desk, scowling, and Celestia grins brightly while Vigilance rolls his eyes and Luna discretely pulls out her device again.

“Excellent. I brought a brochure for you to examine,” she says, and she pulls from her pouch a small pamphlet with a business card paper-clipped to it and hands it to Igneous Rock. “If you have any questions feel free to call the number. Its toll free.”

Igneous puts on reading glasses and studies the pamphlet carefully with Cloudy Quartz reading over his shoulder. Moment's of awkward silence later and he looks at Celestia while his wife continues reading it.

“This brochure says the school starts in three weeks,” says Igneous.

“The facility looks nice, but must we buy uniforms?” asks Cloudy Quartz. She tilts her head and the brochure slightly. “They seem... strange.”

“They look like they belong in a dating sim for heathens,” says Igneous.

Everyone stares at Igneous, some with arched brows, others confused or bemused, and Celestia is the only one with an amused smile. When Igneous realizes the looks he is receiving he clears his throat with a slight tint in his cheeks and puts the brochure in his jacket pocket.

“As I was saying, this is all short notice,” says Igneous.

“Yes, well, nobody expected your daughter to blow up an entire building with a hammer,” says Luna.

“And get away with it,” grumbles Vigilance.

“Pinkamena will have fun, though. It is a great school with a great staff, facilities, and food and programs and plenty of clubs,” says Celestia. “And the uniforms are all part of the tuition. Like the repair bill.”

Pinkie Pie groans and bangs her head on her hammer, and Celestia chuckles and ruffles her puffy hair.

“I will be very excited to see you there with the new students,” says Celestia. She then looks at the clock on the wall, hums, and clamps her hands behind her back and heads out the door. “Come, Luna. We have a charity dinner to attend. We do not want to be late this time.”

Luna follows Celestia out, once again playing on the device, and when the two women and the sounds of cheap lasers and explosions leave the room there is a moment of tense silence. Nobody talks, nobody looks at each other, it is all unbearably sinister with more cheer in a graveyard than in the office. Finally, after the silence reaches a very long fifteen second mark Vigilance frowns and points at the door.

“Get out.”