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.

“I’ve been thinking a lot, and I’ve come to the conclusion that God loves all her children,” Rarity said.

“Eheh... what’s ‘God’?” Fluttershy smiled.

Rarity let out a little sigh. “Surely you must be joking, dear. I know Cloudsdale is full of heathens, but I would have thought you’d have had some education on the subject.”

“Is this another thing where you make fun of me for dropping out of school and not having a strong grasp of cultural knowledge instead of helping me to understand what you’re actually talking about?”

“Could it ever be anything else?” Rarity asked.

“Good point.”

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. AHHHHH!

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

“Well! I believe in miracles!” 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.

“You sexy thing,” Fluttershy said wearily. “Isn’t that a song?”

“We are all songs, in one way or another. Simple words and melodies adrift on the breeze, morphing and repeating and colliding.” 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—

“Well what do we have here?!” 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. “It is I, God!”

Rarity facehoofed. “Do you love all your children?”

“Too bad it’s not Godot,” Fluttershy remarked.

“I Godon’t know what you’re talking about.” The pink pony leapt over to the puddle on the ground, and started licking. “But I come because I was summoned by this delicious offering!”

Rarity grimaced; Fluttershy just stared.

“You mean the ground-punch.”

“Yes, quite indeedily sew!” the pink pony said with a grin. “I am a ground-punch connoisseur, and this is some of the best I’ve ever tasted.”

“That’s not punch, it’s tea,” Rarity said, skeptical.

The pink one smirked. “It teakes one to know one.”

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

“I don’t even think I should dignify that one with a response.”

“God damn you mares are so weird.”

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