“YOUR SMART,” read the plain white sign held in Spike’s claws.

Now I’m in pain, thought Twilight’s brain.

“You like it?” Spike asked Twilight oddly smug, hardly taking his eyes off his creation. “I made it all by myself and everything.”

“I can tell,” Twilight replied thickly. “Is that supposed to be for me?”

Spike snorted. “Nah. This is for someone else. I know you’re smart and all… but not that smart.”

Twilight grumbled under her breath, “Smart enough to know the proper contraction of ‘you’ and ‘are’.”

But Spike had already left. And to Twilight that was fine.

No signs full of spelling mistakes meant no headaches, right? All was good.

Or was it?

It’s not like he’s planning to take it outside or anything, Twilight’s brain told her quietly, as well as snidely. Twilight had always imagined the voice inside her head as an exact replica of herself, only with thick glasses and a frilly scarf. Not like everyone in town basically knows you’re his best friend and teacher.

Oops. Or was it “your”?

Twilight teleported from the room, but found no Spike in sight. Small black footsteps covered the floor in a curving line around the corner like some Sunday comic strip brought to unfunny life. She followed them outside.

“I AM EVICTUS!” roared a booming voice some  meters away. “THE DESTROYER OF WORLDS! TREMBLE BEFORE ME!”

Twilight heard not a word. She was too focused on one thing and one thing—

“—only!” Twilight chirped, leveling a hoof at the quickly scuttling Spike.

He turned to her. “Huh?”

Twilight frowned. “I meant: stop right there! In the name of good grammar!”

Spike furrowed his brows. “Get your own sign, Twilight! You know how long I spent on this? Like ten whole minutes! With only one coffee break!”

For the briefest of moments, Spike’s attention was wholly consumed by the monstrous creature eight stories tall directly to his right. His jaw dropped.

But Twilight wasn’t paying attention to any of that. She’d just caught a glimpse of what was on the reverse side of Spike’s little sign: “SOUPER SMART”.

Inside her mouth, Twilight ground half her teeth down to dust; the tips of her mane began to spark and catch fire. She was about to unfurl her wings and soar towards Spike when—

“Hey there, little buddy!” Rainbow Dash asked. “Need a ride?”

“Sure!” replied Spike, climbing atop her back before safely buckling in.

As the pair soared into the sky, Twilight screamed toward the heavens. “But he stands to be corrected!”

“EVICTUS CARES NOT FOR YOUR PETTY PONY PLEAS!” the monster stomping across town loudly exclaimed. “I WILL NOT BE STOPPED! MERCY WILL NOT BE FOUND ON THE MENU TODAY! KEEP YOUR FINAL WORDS IN MIND, FOR YOU ALL WILL BE REQUIRING THEM SOON! TWO SENTENCES OR LESS, PLEASE!”

Hurriedly, Twilight sailed across the sky, her eye sockets a burning crimson and her perfect purple coat showing traces of white. These new developments… she also ignored. For once, she was actually gaining on Rainbow Dash.

“Give me that sign!” Twilight demanded. “NOW!”

As gingerly as he would have flicked a speck of dirt from his claws, Spike tossed the sign overmare. “Here you go!”

Twilight caught it in her aura and brought it back to the ground. She searched her pockets. Then realized ponies didn’t have pockets.

Her head shot up. “Okay! Who has a marker on them?”

The three dozen ponies shrieking and scrambling from building to building never offered her any writing implement. Most didn’t even bothering turning to her.

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Not like I’ve saved this town once or twice or anything like that!”

Behind her, the great beast’s monologue continued.

“FOR AEONS, I HAVE FORCED DESTRUCTION LIKE NO OTHER: THE FATHER KILLING THE SON; THE DAUGHTER ENDING THE MOTHER; THE HUMBLEST OF CARROTS MURDERING THE FARMER. BUT ALL OF THAT SHALL PALE IN COMPARISON TO WHAT I HAVE—”

It grew silent suddenly; the immense, spiked eyebrows above its eight black eyes raised. It lowered itself until it was directly over Twilight’s shoulder.

“YOUR SIGN,” the creature helpfully explained. “THERE IS A TYPO. ‘YOU’RE’ IS THE CONTRACTION OF ‘YOU’ AND ‘ARE’. YOU MUST NOT BE VERY SMART, SILLY PURPLE PONY. EVICTUS SHALL LAUGH AT YOU NOW. HA. HA. HA. LAUGHING COMPLETE.”

In a bright flash of white, Twilight raised one lone foreleg. A splashing sound came next. As well as gallons upon gallons of sticky green goo raining down from the sky.

There was a gaping hole where Evictus’ head used to be.

The moment she’d corrected Spike’s sign, Twilight returned back to her perfectly purple state. She’d used the newfound green blood as ink, using her horn as a quill.

***

“You owe me,” Spike told Celestia atop her back, moments after Evictus toppled to the ground. “Big time.”

“That I do,” Celestia agreed. “Twilight would not have been in such a state had you not riled her up as instructed. Our research into Grammar Radiation proved most successful today.”

Spike held up a claw. “I want a Rarity.” Then another claw. “Actually, two Raritys.”

Celestia chuckled. “I’m afraid that’s not—”

“I know about the cloning machine,” Spike hissed inside her ear.

Celestia turned to her assistant; an equally tall, white alicorn sporting a large mustache and sombrero. “Sir Lestia? See the dragon gets what he desires.”

The alicorn nodded. “Si, Princess.”

“And what do I get?” Rainbow Dash asked expectantly. “A new bike?”

Celestia’s horn lit up for a moment and a new shiny bike appeared. “There.”

“Is it fast?” Rainbow Dash inquired.

“What does that racing stripe tell you?”

Rainbow Dash’s eyes went wide. “That it goes super fast! But can you make me go that fast?”

Celestia turned to her assistant again. “Contact my speed dealer.”

“Si, Princess,” said Sir Lestia.

Celestia smiled. “Bueno.”