Starlight Glimmer glared at Trixie, who was currently nesting in a hollowed-out divot in Applejack’s orchard. She nudged the blue mare, who snorted, stirred, and looked up at Starlight.

“Hmwha?” Trixie eloquently asked.

Starlight raised an eyebrow. “I looked all over town for you. What are you doing here?”

“Hmm.” Trixie shook the cobwebs out of her brain and stretched. “I was just taking a nap in my nap hole.”

Starlight raised her eyebrow harder. “Nap… hole?”

“Yeah.” Trixie rubbed her face. “My nap hole.” She looked up at Starlight. “Where’s yours?”

“I don’t have a nap hole,” Starlight said.

Trixie sighed as she stood up. “That’s not good.” She put a hoof on Starlight’s shoulder. “Your nap hole will get moldy if you don’t use it.”

Starlight blinked a few times, then pushed Trixie’s hoof off. “… I don’t have a nap hole to collect mold in.”

Trixie grunted. “That’s because you neglected it and it’s now a mold hole.”

“Trixie I—” Starlight cut herself off and took a deep breath, then looked Trixie straight in her sleepy eyes. “Trixie. I don’t have a nap hole or a mold hole.”

“That’s silly,” Trixie said with a snort. “Everyone has a nap hole.” She looked to the side. “Except for those who neglect them. Then they become mold holes.”

Starlight rubbed her head and groaned. “Trixie, you’re great—”

“And powerful!”

“And powerful, yes.” Starlight nodded. “But no one has a nap hole.” She put a hoof to her chest. “At least I’ve never had a nap hole.” Starlight waved in Trixie’s direction. “I think that’s just a you thing.”

Trixie bit her lip and looked around. “Um… uh…” she blurted before a savior caught her eye and a smile caught her face. “Hey, Applejack!” she shouted while waving, presumably at Applejack who just happened to be in her own orchard.

The sharp crack of hooves hitting wood reverberated through the air. “Yeah, Trixie?” Applejack shouted through the expanse.

“Tell Starlight about your nap hole!”

Another crack vibrated across the expanse. “What?”

“Your nap hole!”

Crack. “I don’t have a nap hole!”

Starlight pursed her lips at Trixie while the latter blushed. “Trixie, there’s no such thing as nap holes.”

Trixie grunted, then put both of her hooves on Starlight’s shoulders. “You’re blind to the reality of nap holes.”

“No, Trixie, I’m not blind to the reality of nap holes,” Starlight said as she pushed Trixie off of her again.

“You’ve shielded your worldview from nap holes!” Trixie said as she grimaced and pointed an accusing hoof at Starlight.

“No, Trixie, I think you’re just being dumb. Also you’re practically repeating yourself.”

“I am not being dumb, Starlight!” Trixie stomped towards Starlight until they were face to face, their muzzles nearly touching. “And I am repeating myself to hammer in that you are shielding yourself from reality!”

Starlight grimaced. “I swear if you say—”

“To the reality of nap holes, of course!”

Starlight groan-screamed and stomped away over towards Applejack, who was still bucking trees at a steady clip.

She poked Applejack, who turned around and smiled. “Hey there, Starlight, what can I do you for?”

Starlight sat down and rubbed her face. “Mmh… I think I have poor taste in friends sometimes.”

Applejack exhaled, then pursed her lips and rubbed her chin. “Now, whatever would give you such an impression?”

“The, uh,” Starlight said as she looked over in Trixie’s direction, Trixie somehow figuring out a way to preen herself despite being a unicorn. “Nap hole thing, I guess.”

“Hmm.” Applejack placed her hoof down. “Yeah, I thought that was a bit odd when Trixie called over here asking me about nap holes.” She whistled. “Ain’t never heard of such a thing. What d’you reckon they are?”

Starlight clenched her jaw. “I don’t know, but I’m guessing it’s an excuse Trixie came up with because she lost her… no, wait, there she is picking up her keys.” She shook her head and grunted. “I don’t know then.” Starlight waved a hoof. “Something Trixie made up to get me peeved.”

“Watch your mouth there, Starlight.” Applejack snickered. “Don’t want Apple Bloom hearing such filth.”

“I just…”

Starlight exhaled.

Applejack sat down and put a hoof on Starlight’s shoulder. “Have you ever considered that the nap hole is… a metaphor?”

Starlight glanced at Applejack. “… W-what?”

“A metaphor.” Applejack nodded.

“For what?” Starlight said as a sneer formed on her lips.

Applejack looked around. “Now, I may not have the same book-learnin’ as some of my other friends, but I know ponies, and my guess is that Trixie’s insistence on you accepting the existence of the nap hole is a cry for help from the deepest recesses of her soul.” She bowed her head. “A yearning that you accept her for her being the pony that she is, no ifs, ands, or buts.” Applejack then looked Starlight square in the eyes. “The nap hole is a metaphor for friendship.”

Starlight looked at Applejack. Then she looked at Trixie, who had managed to produce her hat and cape from Celestia-knows-where. Then she looked back at Applejack.

“Applejack, I gotta be honest. That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard.”

Applejack chuckled. “It is, ain’t it?” She stood up, pulling Starlight up with her as well. “Th’point is she is being dumb, but that don’t change nothing. That’s what friendship is.”

Starlight gave Applejack a cock-eyed stare. “So, friendship is… dumb?”

“Not exactly how I’d put it, no. More like….” Applejack looked around, seemingly searching for the right words. She apparently found them in short order. “Accepting that your friends can be dumb, and that’s what makes them special.”

“That sounds really—”

Applejack shoved her in the direction of Trixie. “Now go tell her about your nap hole!”

“I don’t have a nap hole!” Starlight shouted back at Applejack.

“Then make one up!”

Starlight grumbled under her breath as she ambled towards The Great and Powerful Trixie, who was busy dusting herself off.

She noticed Starlight and gave her a devilish smirk. “Are you finally ready to accept the Great and Powerful reality of the nap hole?”

Starlight looked at Trixie.

Make one up, Applejack said.

She looked at Trixie, who was clearly waiting for a response in the affirmative. But she didn’t have a nap hole. Nap holes were dumb.

Then hers and Applejack’s words repeated themselves in her head.

Friendship is dumb.

The nap hole is a metaphor for friendship.

Starlight took a breath, then hugged Trixie tightly.

“You’re my nap hole, Trixie.”

Trixie paused for a moment, then returned the hug just as tightly as Starlight gave it.

You may be kind of dumb, but you’re still my friend, and I wouldn’t give that up for anything in the world.

“I nap hole you too, Starlight.”

Scratch that. Really dumb.