The sun shone brightly through the window, a bright warm blanket of light draped over the table in the kitchen of Carousel Boutique. To one side sat the alabaster unicorn who lived there; on the other side, the buttercream pegasus who was her best friend. As they sat, they sipped from their cups.

“It is a pity that youth is wasted on the young,” Rarity said.

“If it weren’t the young with youth, it wouldn’t be youth.” Fluttershy smiled.

Rarity let out a little sigh. “I mean, I suppose that is technically correct. But you know what I mean—the energy, the fervour, the life, the ability to sleep on the floor and not have back problems the next five days.”

“I don’t think that changes my point. If it weren’t the young who had those things, then that wouldn’t be youth.”

“Why do you always have to be so right about everything, dear?” Rarity asked.

“I don’t think I’m always right. But I do have some wisdom. I think it comes with the job of being the oldest of our little group of friends.”

Fluttershy scooted her chair out from the table and stood up, trotting over to the kitchen counter. From the stovetop, she picked up a teapot—an ornate, ancient thing—and started to walk back to the table with the thing between her teeth.

Suddenly, there was a very loud noise. HOGKT!

Fluttershy jumped, startled, dropping the teapot in the process. Time seemed to slow down as the antique china spiralled towards the ground, and—

“Never fear, youth is here!” Rarity exclaimed. Fluttershy opened her eyes—which had instinctively snapped shut—to see that, miraculously, the teapot hadn’t fallen to the ground and shattered; it was suspended aloft by a shimmering blue magical aura. Yet even though the teapot was saved, a pool of the liquid had spilled onto the floor, soaking Fluttershy’s hooves.

“Perhaps youth isn’t wasted on the young at all,” Fluttershy said wearily. “Us old mares just need to keep around fillies like you so you can save us with your reflexes.”

“Sure, sure. I see what you’re saying.” Rarity set the teapot down on the table, and then picked up a cloth rag from the counter in her magic. She moved as if to wipe up the liquid, but—

“Aha!” another voice exclaimed. The cabinet beneath the kitchen counter burst open and a smiling pink pony popped out, her mane floofing up as she stood up. “I knew Rarity was secretly a li’l babby!”

Rarity facehoofed. “Pinkie, I’m a year older than you.”

“Don’t worry, Rarity, you’ll always be a li’l babby to me,” Fluttershy remarked.

“Babbies for everyone! Woo-hoo!” The pink pony leapt over to the puddle on the ground, and started licking. “Except me. I’m only twelve.”

Rarity grimaced; Fluttershy just stared.

“That’s rather uncouth, darling.”

“Couth! That rhymes with youth!” the pink pony said with a grin. “Forsooth, loose tooth, a bottle of vermouth!”

“If you’re twelve, you really shouldn’t have a bottle of vermouth,” Rarity said, skeptical.

The pink one smirked. “Twelve is just twenty-one backwards, silly! And besides, you’re two to one.”

A beat. Then, all three of them laughed, uproariously.

“Are you really on her side here, Fluttershy?”

“Oh, Rarity, don’t make me say it. You know I don’t want to lie to you.”

And, much as the sun kept shining on down through the window of the Boutique, life went on.