Discord Teaches Philosophy: On Love
by CrackedInkWell
First published
It's been years since Discord had taken up a teaching roll at the School of Friendship. Now as a summer class, he's teaching on the subject of love - no one knows why.
Warning: The following you're about to read contains philosophy in plain English and is currently unedited. If you do not like one or both of these, you know where the exit button is.
Years after Starlight Glimmer becomes the new Headmare of the School of Friendship and Twilight ruling over Equestria, Discord is still teaching useful philosophy classes. Although he is known for his unusual teaching methods, there have been rumors that he may have to take a liking to Professor Fluttershy. However, that rumor was never confirmed in any way.
That was, until one Summer when Discord put up the offer for a surprising class in the felid of Philosophy. The subject was about love. Even with Discord promoting the class, one question is raised: why?
Lesson Plan:
Lesson 1 - What is Romanticism ✅
Lesson 2 - On Being Single ✅
Lesson 3 - On Dating ✅
Lesson 4 - Challenges of Marriage ✅
Lesson 5 - Why Do Some Have Affairs
Lesson 6 - When to Leave
Lesson 7 - How to Fall in Love... Again
List of Students and Status:
Fluttershy - Single
Sandbar - Dating
Gallus - Single
Ocellus - Dating
Smolder - Dating
Yona - Dating
Silverstream - Single
Cadence - Married
Shining Armor - Married
Starlight - Dating
Trixie - Dating
Braeburn - Married
Applejack - Married
Rainbow Dash - Married
Big Mac - Married
Sugar Belle - Married
Ms. Harshwhinny - Single
Spoiled Rich - Married (Divorced?)
Filthy Rich - Married (Divorced?)
Fleur de Lis - Dating
Fancy Pants - Dating
Troubleshoes - Married
Soarin - Single
Lyra - Married
Sweetie Drops - Married
Mr. Cake - Married
Mrs. Cake - Married
Miss. Cheerliee - Single
Twilight - Single
Rarity - Single
Lesson 1 - What is Romanticism
Author's Notes:
Warning: The following you're about to read contains philosophy in plain English and is currently unedited. If you do not like one or both of these, you know where the exit button is.
It wasn’t unusual for professors to teach a summer class, especially at the School of Friendship. For most of Equestria, there are make-up classes for students who might have fallen behind in this or that subject during the rest of the year. Things like math or magic studies are common places and are often the dread of youngsters. But for some, there are those who take these classes willingly in hopes to further their understanding or get ahead with their education.
At the School of Friendship, however, a new class had suddenly opened up very unexpectedly. Sure, it might have to do with the fact that Discord, the Philosophy teacher, had never before taught a class during the summer. It also could be that he was a popular sort whose lessons are talked about both inside the school and out of town – which was why it drew some ponies from outside of Ponyville. However, for the thirty enrolled students, all of them were curious about the subject he was going to teach.
Love.
From students to professors, this alone raised many eyebrows. Ever since Discord had posted several posters that promoted the class, many were wondering… why? In all the years that the Draconequus had decided to take on the full-time job of teaching, and while he taught many useful things to students, this was something he never mentioned before. No sooner had the posters gone up that rumors were circulating; questioning what Discord’s motives were. All these years of teaching, why is he bringing up the subject of love now? How could he teach love? What is he doing this for?
In June on a warm morning where all the windows of the school were opened, the curious students waited outside of the door of Discord’s classroom. The infamous Room 256, a place where reality itself changes depending on what the teacher had in mind. As they waited in the hall, Gallus turned over to his old-time friends. “So…” he began, trying to break the awkward silence of the others. “What brings you all here?”
“To be honest,” Smolder said. "Ocellus and I are here for two reasons. First being so we can meet Discord again – I mean, it’s been too long since the last time we’d had him as a teacher. We just, you know, miss him is all.”
“Okay? And the other?”
“Well,” Ocellus spoke up, her cheeks blushing a shade of pink. “I don’t know if any of you know this but… I uh… recently asked Smolder out and she said yes.”
“You’re dating?” Silverstream asked but in a surprised tone. “Guys! Why didn’t you tell us, that’s fantastic!”
“To be fair,” Smolder pointed out, “we just got started and it’s not totally serious. We’re also here just in case we uh… might. And hopefully, Discord would give us some pointers here and there.”
“Why Discord doing this?” Yona questioned. “Discord spoke of many things. Only nothing like this. Why?”
“That’s what I’m wondering.” Sandbar said. “And I agree, this seems a bit too random, even for him. No… That’s the right word… It’s very specific, if that makes sense.”
“Do you think something happened?” Silverstream inquired, a talon tapping her beak in thought.
“The way I see it,” Smolder spoke aloud, “depending on what he’s going to say, either he’s finally dating Professor Fluttershy, or something went horribly wrong and he’s trying to persuade everyone not to bother with it.”
Ocellus raised an eyebrow. “Well that’s a little cynical, don’t you think?”
“It’s a little hard not to think that when she’s here.” Smolder pointed.
The others looked down at the line of ponies that had gathered and noticed that there was a particular couple that caught their attention. If anything, it was both a surprise and expected at the same time to see Princess Cadence and Shining Armor to be here at the very back of the line.
Gallus raised an eyebrow. “Hey, you guys, I’ll be right back.” He walked away from his spot, going past a few dozen ponies before approaching the pink alicorn and her husband. He stopped, put a claw over his heart, and bowed his head. “Your Highness.”
“Oh, you must be Gallus, right?” He nodded. “Well long time no see. I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Yeah, Princess Twilight had granted me some time off so I can attend the class.”
“Really?” Shining tilted his head, “I thought Twilie was going to come here too.”
Gallus blinked, “The Princess is coming?”
“At least, we thought she is.” Cadence clarified. “Only we haven’t seen her yet. Then again, we’re still early. So, how are you?”
“I’m okay as far as being Captain of the Guard goes. So what are you two doing here?”
Cadence smirked, “Funny, I was going to ask the same thing.”
“Well…” Gallus blushed. “You first.”
“Basically, we’re here to see Discord doesn’t do anything… problematic.” Shining answered. “I know he’s gotten better over the years, but the stuff about love-”
“Is my territory and I want to see if he does it right.” Cadence finished. “And you?”
Looking over at his shoulder to where his friends were making small talk, Gallus said, “Don’t tell anyone I said this but… lately, I’ve been well… lonely. Sure, Discord has helped me in the past and I got a good job from Twilight, but still… I don’t want to be single forever, ya know? So, when I heard Discord was going to teach about Love… I hoped…”
“I’m sure you’ll find someone,” Shining told him. “Don’t give up on finding the right one out there. You just have to keep your eyes open.”
“Easier said than done,” Gallus muttered.
Before either of the couple could respond, they caught a few familiar voices and their attention was turned behind them. Coming down the hall were two mares – Professor Fluttershy who over the years had let her mane grow longer, and Princess Twilight who has grown taller. Instinctually, Gallus bowed. “My Princess.”
“Gallus,” Twilight said, bidding her captain of the guard to rise, “I didn’t know that you were coming here.”
He nodded, “Now you know why I asked for some time off.”
“I don’t blame you. From what Fluttershy has been telling me, Discord has really dived into the subject lately.”
“He’s been working hard for it,” Fluttershy smiled. “Discord even has gone through the trouble of weaving some psychology and history into his lesson – just to make sure that he can get it right.”
“Psychology?” Gallus questioned. “I thought this was technically a philosophy class.”
“It is, but he’s trying to use as many sources as he could for this.”
Cadence was intrigued. “Must be something really important if Discord is going all out with this. Besides, I’m a little disappointed he didn’t even ask me about my thoughts on the subject.”
“Knowing him,” Fluttershy answered, “he will.”
Meanwhile, near the front of the line, two cousins started to have some small talk. “So…” Applejack began. “What are ya in for?”
“Huh?” Braeburn tilted his head.
“Ah mean, what brought ya here ta Ponyville? Especially ta this class.” She tilted her head over to the door. “Ah thought things were goin’ well with yer husband.”
“Funny,” Braeburn raised an eyebrow, “Ah was gonna say the same thin’ with yer wife.”
The two cousins fell silent for a moment.
“Was there a fight?” Applejack inquired. “Ah noticed that ya and Troubleshoes didn’t anythin’ ta each other since ya came here.”
“Nothin’s wrong,” Troubleshoes said, his hooves still crossed and his back against the wall.
“I may not have been the element of honesty,” Rainbow craned her neck over, “But even standing in this hallway for ten minutes is more than enough to see that’s complete crap.”
“Rainbow,” Braeburn raised a hoof, “Jus’… stay outta this.” He returned back to his cousin, “Again, why are you two here?”
“Probably the opposite reason fer what ya got here.”
“What? That she tells ya everythin’ wrong?”
Applejack frowns, “She ain’t nice about it.”
“The only reason I’m here,” Rainbow informed, “is because she asked me to and that it might be good for us. But knowing Discord… that might be questionable.”
“It’s a chance.” Applejack mumbled.
Behind them, two wealthy stallions talked with each other.
“Well, it’s certainly Fancy to see you here.” Filthy Rich said with a smile.
His wife rolled her eyes at the annoyance of the pun.
“I know I have seen your face before,” Fancy Pants pointed out. “It’s familiar but for some reason, I can’t put my hoof on it.”
“The name’s Rich,” Filthy reached into the pocket of his jacket to pull out a business card. “I happen to run Barnyard Bargen’s here in town.”
“Oh! Now I recall,” Fancy took the card in his aura. “I’m more familiar with your father. He used to attend my family’s parties in Canterlot now and then.”
“I remember those too.” He nodded. “So what is a pony like yourself doing here for a class on Love?”
“I’m doing this for my marefriend, you see. The relationship is doing fine but I kind of hoped that perhaps we could find some ways to improve you. You know?”
Filthy nodded. “I see. To be honest with you, this for my wife is a last-ditch effort.”
“What does that mean?”
“Lately… things aren’t going as we hoped, let’s just say.”
“You’re being too nice about it.” Spoiled mumbled.
Hearing this, Fleur de Lis spoke up. “Oh… I’m so sorry to hear that. Would you mind if I asked a personal question?”
Spoiled raised a suspicious eyebrow. “Over what?”
“Your relationship… do you two fight often?”
“A better question is, when don’t we?”
“Hon,” Filthy quietly snapped at her. “Not here. Especially when everyone can see.”
Spoiled stayed quiet but seethed. Unbeknownst to the Rich’s, Fleur and Fancy looked on at their quiet anger with envy.
Behind them, Big Macintosh and Sugar Belle, both their heads tilted in slight confusion, glanced at one another. “You know,” Sugar said aloud, “I think I may get an idea why they’re here. So why are you?”
Ms. Harswhinny rolled her eyes. “Look, just because I’m known to scare every other pony, doesn’t mean that I’m not interested in probably getting a date. Besides, hopefully, this class might finally give me a straight answer on something that has been bothering me for years.”
“Yeah?” Big Mac tilted his head, “And what’s that?”
“Why am I still single? I just don’t get it. What do they have,” she waved to the ponies ahead of them, “that I don’t?”
“To be honest,” Sugar looked over her shoulder, “I don’t really know since I don’t know everyone here.”
Ms. Harshwhinny hummed in thought. “So, what are you here for?”
“It’s uh…” Big Mac rubbed the back of his neck, “It’s kinda embarassin’.”
“Is it something that will be brought up?”
Neither of the couple said anything.
While Ms. Harshwhinny was grilling them, Miss Cheerliee was talking to the Cakes.
“Don’t get us wrong,” Mrs. Cake informed Cheerliee. “I love my hubby, still do, it’s just…”
“Lately things have been, uh…” Mr. Cake coughed into his hoof. “Stale. As much as we still care for each other and the kids, it’s like… a part of that spark that got us together isn’t as strong. We just don’t know why.”
“I get it,” Cheerliee nodded, “You’re both here to see why is that.”
“That is if Discord would bring it up.” Mr. Cake pointed out. “And your reason?”
Cheerliee looked over to Big Mac for a moment, “I… want to know how to move on is all.”
Between them, the princesses, Shining, Gallus, and Fluttershy, a small group of ponies formed around in a cluster. Among them was Starlight who looked up and down the hall. “C’mon… Where is she? She knows very well that the class starts at nine.”
“Maybe she’s running late,” Lyra suggested. “It’s not that sort of thing happens, right?”
“But I specifically told her, both to her face and in writing to be here before nine – but once again, still nowhere to be seen.”
“I’m sure there’s a reason, right?” Soarin suggested. “I mean, your marefriend probably ran into something that slowed her down or something.”
“On the other hoof,” Sweetie Drops theorized, “it could be that she had forgotten.”
“That’s where I must disagree,” Rarity shook her head. “Knowing her… reputation, her reason for being late must have a more selfish leaning. Perhaps overslept or is in the shower.”
“Says the mare who takes ten weeks to style her mane and wonders why she can’t get a date.”
Rarity frowned, “Passive aggressiveness is not becoming well on you.”
“Okay, okay.” Soarin raised his hooves, “Look, to be fair, if… what’s-her-name is running late, I’m sure there’s an innocent reason behind it. There’s no need to be nasty here.”
Starlight breathed in deeply, “Sorry… It’s just I’m on edge with her as it is.”
“Hey, couples get into fights,” Sweetie Drop said, “we may be sweet most of the time, but even we get into arguments over the silliest of things.”
“Tell me about it,” Lyra rolled her eyes, “Like that one time where we had this huge argument over a towel on the bathroom floor that went on for days.”
“At least you guys have a relationship,” Soarin pointed out, “Like Rarity here, I’m still trying to figure out why I’m having such a hard time just finding someone decent.”
“I know it’s hard,” Rarity put a consoling hoof on his shoulder, “But I think eventually we’ll all find the right one for us somewhere. Who knows, maybe Discord has found something that could help us with that.”
A few minutes later, the clock hanging on the walls of the hall struck nine, and the door to Discord’s classroom was opened. The students pushed through the door and each one that entered was in awe of what they saw. What some had expected to be a hot, cramped classroom was taken aback at the sheer landscape that was like they stepped inside an oil painting. If anything, that’s exactly what they did!
Although outside it is summer and growing increasingly warm, inside that classroom, they were surrounded by autumn, walking out of a forest and towards a clear, mirror-like lake. All around there were golds, oranges, yellows, and greens, and above them was a magnificent sunrise that was peeking through the dark clouds. Although everything about this place was, up close, an oil painting, the grass, the cool air, even the crunchy leaves felt, smelled, and seemed real but distorted a bit by the countless brushstrokes that were everywhere.
“Are you seeing this?”
“This is incredible!”
“At least it’s not hot anymore.”
“Where did all of this come from?”
The confusion and awe of the students became louder as they walked further into this landscape. For at first, none of them had any idea what exactly to do or where to go – until they spotted a figure that was busy painting a tree into existence. Fluttershy flew over and found Discord with a (what was white) apron that was covered in paint that covered his striped blue and white shirt. On his head was a black barre that was speaking Prench. He had a pallet in one claw and several brushes in his paw.
“Good morning, Discord,” Fluttershy said as the other students drew near.
The Draconequus turned around. He smiled. “Fluttershy!” He tossed off his art supplies and his apron to embrace the mare. “Is it nine already? I was so busy getting all of this ready I think I lost track. So, uh…” he grinned nervously, “Do you like it? I know it’s not quite done yet.”
“This is gorgeous,” Fluttershy beamed. “Only… Why are you taking up painting?”
“Because this place is the perfect setting for today’s lesson.” He turned to the other students that approached him. “Ah, so I take it that you’re here for Love 101?” They nodded. Discord than pulled on a nipple to pull out the drawer from him, take out a scroll and closing it. “Very well, before we get to that,” he took out a pair of glasses from hyperspace, “there are a few things we need to do. Roll call!” He summoned a whistle and, after blowing on it, the remaining students were now suddenly in front of him in a semi-circle. Then having the pallet float over to him, it unrolled a list. “Before we start, firstly, let’s make sure that everyone’s here. Ready? Here we go in no particular order. Fluttershy.”
“Hi.”
“Lyra.”
“Over here.”
“Cadence.”
“Present.” She said aloud, raising a hoof.
“Silverstream.”
“Here!”
Discord looked up from his list and smiled. “Well, well. The old gangs’ here!” He marked off several names. “It’s good to have you all back again. It wouldn’t be a philosophy lesson without any of you making a cameo. Otherwise, the readers would crucify me.”
“What?” Yona asked but Discord continued with the roll call.
“Applejack.”
“Howdy.”
“Applejack’s obvious wife.”
“You could just say my name.” Rainbow Dash said annoyed.
“Yes, but there those that don’t exactly approve the ship. Troubleshoes.”
A large hoof was raised.
“Ex-Agent Bon Bon.”
“How the hey did you know that!” Sweetie Drops demanded but it went unheard.
“Shining Armor.”
“Here.”
“Ms. Boss.”
“Good morning to you too, Discord.” Starlight Glimmer said flatly.
“Starlight’s obvious marefriend.”
Silence.
“Trixie?” He looked around but saw no sign of the blue unicorn. Annoyed, he snapped his talons, and in popped Trixie into existence; screaming and apparently was in the middle of a shower. Starlight summoned a towel to cover her and glared at Discord. “What? That’s what you get for being late without giving me an excuse slip. Now, where was I? Ah, Madame Fleur de Lis.”
“You know I’m not actually-” Fleur began but was interrupted.
“Cup Cake.”
“Here.”
“Cup Cake’s husband.”
“Also here.”
“The yellow loud one that talks a lot.”
“Ya mean me?” Braeburn asked.
“Big red cousin to said yellow loud one that talks a lot.”
Big Macintosh raised a hoof.
“And his wife.”
“Here.” Sugar Belle said.
“Rarity.”
“Good morning.”
“Miss Cheerliee.”
“Hello.”
“The rich pony.”
“That’ll be me.” Filthy Rich said, raising his hoof.
Discord raised an eyebrow. “The other rich pony.”
“What, you mean me?” Spoil asked.
“That too, but the other, other rich pony. The likable one.”
“I think he’s talking about me.” Fancy Pants said.
“Ms. Harshwhinny.”
“Present.”
“Soarin.”
“Yep!”
“Last but capable of turning me to stone if she’s in a bad mood, Twilight.”
“Well hello to you too.” Twilight deadpanned.
After looking through the list and seeing that all the names were marked. He let the list turn into a green uniform, complete with an army helmet; once he put them on, he faced his new class.
“The next important thing that all of you need to know,” he began, pacing about like a general, “is that this will be the only time that I will be giving all of you – including the readers – a warning. What I’m about to talk about can and will change your view of what romantic love is. This will include dismantling common misconceptions of what being lovey-dovey is, and to show how to avoid the tempting traps that you will or have encountered.
“Let’s make this as perfectly clear as I can;” he stopped and faced his students, “this class is not a strictly dating class, nor solely a marriage counseling class, nor a how to spot a cheater class, nor a sex-ed class. Got it? What this class aims to do, is to illustrate why everyone here is doing love badly and how to improve if possible. This series of classes, I must warn you here and now, will either solidify your relationship or destroy it completely – and either way, you’re welcome. This is a class where I’m going to use a combo of philosophy, history, psychology, and sociology to turn our deep-seated resentment, our anger of our current relationships into sadness. If I can do that, we’ve made progress. I’m going to use philosophy to not only let you all down gently but to show what you can do with this knowledge in a constructive way.
“If anyone in this class wants to leave. Now will be the time. I won’t stop if you.” He then turned around. His back against his students, he waited.
None of the ponies made a move.
Neither did the reader.
Discord looked over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised, and flew off. “Still here? Well then, let’s get started with the main reason I painstakingly made this landscape.”
Fancy Pants looked around, “Really? Why?”
“Rule number one when attending any of Discord’s classes,” Gallus explained, “when he distorts reality, he does it for a reason.”
“That’s right!” Discord nodded happily. “I’m going to get to one of the two reasons why relationships tend to end in flames or having the cops being called. By understanding how this idea has influenced the way we see love and how we do things like falling in love, or dating, or even getting married; we’ll see why it has actually been ruinous for relationships everywhere.”
“And what’s that?” Lyra asked.
Picking up his paintbrush and his palette, he then painted in the air a single word in red:
ROMANTICISM
Immediately, there were several confused looks among all his students. Ocellus was the first to voice this perplexity. “Mr. Discord, I don’t think I understand. I thought from history classes that it was a movement that influenced art and had little to do with love itself.”
“Which brings me to have to pull out a big fat disclaimer.” Discord clarified, painting a pony underneath the floating words. A dark blue stallion with glasses, “Here to do that for me is the author of this very story.” After he put the last bit of detail on the painting of the pony, it blinked and came to life.
“Huh?” Cracked Inkwell looked about. “What the- oh… you again.”
“Hey Ink, mind giving these students and your readers your disclaimer before I pretty much ruin love for them?”
“Couldn’t you do it?”
“I figured that since you’re more the historian type, I’d leave this bit to the real expert.”
“Ugh, fine.” He turned to the students and, after clearing his throat said, “I know there’s some confusion here, especially with the word Romanticism. Some of you may have heard of it, others may not know what it’s about. This was, once upon a time, a movement that started around… the 750s (I think) where it was a counterculture to the Age of Reason. If you want to know what it’s about, I can distill it all down with what all the poets, writers, philosophers, composers, etc… have believed in above all else into a single word: Passion.
“The thing is, when Discord,” he waved a hoof at the Draconequus, “is talking about Romanticism, he’s not talking about its good sides – especially the art. I mean, some of the greatest works ever created came out from this period. From composers like Beethooven and Horseshoepin; to painters like Turner that eventually laid the foundations of the Impressionists; even poets like Lord Byron have shown that you can combine passion with genius to create some incredible things. Heck, even I tend to think of myself as a kind of Romantic-style writer in that regard. Where I let my instincts guide me while using reason as a compass as to where I wanted to go.
“However, all that stuff is not what Discord is going to be talking about.
“He’s talking about the ideas that – to this day – still influenced the way we think love is. And it’s no surprise either since we all kinda heard about from fairytales we’ve heard as foals. So, when he talks about Romanticism, he’s talking about the ideas surrounding romance itself, not the ingenious art that came about.” After he finished, he turned back to the Draconequus, “Can I go home now.”
“You’re excused.”
The author took his leave and exited through the door.
“So wait,” Twilight raised a hoof, “if that guy is the author… would that mean that you just pulled out God to talk to us?”
“Best not to think about it too hard,” Discord advised, “otherwise, your head will explode. So,” he turned to the rest of the class, “now that we got all of that out of the way, are we clear about where I stand?” They nodded. “Good. So, let’s truly get started!
“Now when it comes to love, and even before any of you step hoof and claw into my classroom, I’d bet some of you think that there’s no need for me to teach about love as it’s just an instinct, right? All you simply have to do is follow your heart, be yourself, and everything will be well.”
“That’s pretty much love in a nutshell.” Cadence commented.
“Ah-ah!” Discord waved a talon. “Not so.”
“Huh?” Cadence tilted her head in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“The truth is that as much as we love to believe in stuff like that, the way we do things like falling in love, how and why we get married, even how cheating was seen has changed across time, cultures and societies – all without even you noticing. So, to really understand why this whole Romantic view of love came from, allow me to take you all on a short tour through history.”
Discord raised a talon and snapped it.
Before the class could register what had happened, they found themselves gone from being inside a romantic autumn painting to becoming flat, moving carvings on a sandstone wall.
“What in tarnation!” Everyone in the Apple family yelled at once.
“Oh, calm down.” Discord chided, “You all make it sound like you’ve never become a carving before. Sheesh!”
“Where are we?” Filthy demanded, “What’s going on.”
“Ah! Straight to the point. Welcome class to ancient Maresopotamia. In particular, the city of Mari, and it’s about… oh two-thousand years before Princess Moody went Loony and was sent to the Moony.”
“Okay,” Twilight interjected, “but why are we here?”
“That,” he pointed. The class looked over and saw an elaborate carving of ponies with beards, mares in elaborate dresses, and there before a great bonfire was a couple with crowns on their heads who stood before a priest.
“Do you, King Zimrilim,” said the priest, “take Shibtu of Yamhad to expand each other’s kingdoms, increase trade, swear alliances in times of war, and will try to produce an heir or twelve with this mare?”
“I do.”
“I declare you now before the Gods, husband and wife.”
The other carvings celebrated with joy.
Discord turned to his class. Many of which had confusion etched on their faces.
He raised an eyebrow, “What?”
“So…” Smolder inquired, “Can they see and hear us or…?”
“Of course not, they’re drawings. Anyone else?”
“What jus’ happened?” Troubleshoes asked.
“What we saw is the typical wedding that will be around for the next few thousand years. But did any of you noticed something… missing from this wedding?”
“What the buck was that?” Cadence uncharacteristically demanded. “Where's the flowers? And the decorations of love? And the-”
“It doesn’t exist here.” Discord interrupted. “In fact, for a long time, love and marriage had next to nothing to do with one another. Marriage at this point was seen as… how do I put this…? A kind of trade. For most of history, all around the world and even to this day, marriage was mostly seen as practical for economic reasons.”
Sweetie Drops raised a hoof. “Like arranged marriages? I hear in Mandia they still do that.”
“Exactly! Ponies for centuries have traditionally married, not because they love them, but the families that organize these things do so for various reasons like they had a goat and you had a chicken. Or that your lands were next door. Or you needed to unite entire kingdoms to make alliances with. What most arranged marriages were, they what are called are a marriage of reason. If anything, if you told any of these ponies or those in modern Mandia that you should marry for love, not only will the laugh hard and point at you, but they will think that doing so is deviant.”
“Wait, really?” Spoiled Rich asked with a raised eyebrow. “Why is that?”
“I’m going to answer that later, so hold that thought.” Discord snapped again.
Now this time the scenery has changed. Although the class was still two-dimensional, they upgraded from a carving on a wall to a drawing on a Mareval illuminated manuscript. The class also noticed that the ground was moving. However, it wasn’t ground at all, but a drawing of the sea that moved beneath their hooves.
Twilight lifted the students off the shaky ground, both she and Discord frowning at one another. “Show off.” Discord muttered.
“Where are we now?”
“We’re in the middle of the South Luna Sea. It’s been 147 years after Nightmare Moon was kicked off the planet, and at this moment, a ship is heading towards the Kingdom of Tulip.” As if on cue, a crude drawing of a sailing ship approached the class. And on that ship was an awkwardly drawn stallion with a lute in his hooves.
“Who’s that?” Yona inquired.
“Prince Jaufré Rudel of Blaye. He is a trailblazer of something new in the field of love. Not only is he an early Troubadour, but possibly one of the first. Currently, he’s heading off towards modern-day Casaflanka where he hopes to impress his true love – the Countess of Trotpoli. During the several months of sailing, he is spending his time composing songs he hoped to impress his love.”
Mr. Cake raised a hoof. “So… he’s the equivalent of a songwriter?”
“Kinda, more of a court poet who happens to know how to play an instrument. His poetry is very noticeable when it comes to the history of love. You see, his love was considered radically new at the time because he had fallen in love with a mare that’s thousands of miles away. It was considered deeply impractical because it had nothing to do with foals, money, building dynasties, or any reciprocation whatsoever. However, it did become popular as he codified – what we now know as – the crush side of love.”
“Still,” Mrs. Cake said, “You got to admit that there’s something romantic about it. Having a stallion write all those songs and poems to the one he loves. Did he ever get to meet her?”
“Yes actually,” Discord nodded, “but only once.”
“Why?” Lyra asked. “What happened?”
“By the time he got there, he got sick. So much so that they had to carry him on stretchers. Then when news came to the countess about the prince, she rushed over to where he was. It was written that the guy was very happy to see her.”
“Awe,” went the class.
“Before he died in her arms.”
“Oh…” went the class.
“There’s a reason why I’m bringing this guy up,” Discord added, “because even at this point in the Marevial ages, love was starting to be recognized, but it still wasn’t seen as a reason to be in a serious relationship. The crush soon explodes in popularity because they wanted to remain as pristine as possible – and that was the secret of its success. Because someone like Rudel didn’t get the chance to be near the Countess, they never would have encountered stuff that couples eventually argue about such as where to put up the tapestry or doing household chores.
“Oh and speaking of things that were once separate…” Discord snapped his talons again.
Fortunately for the students who were getting sick of being two-dimensional, they suddenly found themselves being third dimensional complete with perspective despite being covered in oil paints. This time everything had changed from the Marevial to the Braeque as all around them was a hall of tall white walls, towering windows, mirrors, blue curtains, gilded flourishes, a crystal chandelier, and beautifully detailed paintings that echoed Pegasi mythology on the walls. They were also not alone as the hall of mirrors was crowded with a court of ponies in the finest of clothes of silks, linens, and powdered wigs. All of which circle around a blue table where behind one of which sat a very important looking pony.
“Welcome to Versailles,” Discord announced to his class. “It’s September 14th, 745. On the Prench throne is Louis XV. That’s him over there at that table.” He pointed out. “We are at the King’s Grand Apartment; in particular, this room called the Cabinet du Conseil. And if my timing is right, we are about to witness something that the royal court has been expecting for months now. Ah! Here she comes.”
The class, along with the entire court, looked on in hushed whispers as a pretty white, unicorn mare with a richly deep blue mane entered. Her cheeks seemed freshly rouged, her wig powdered, and she walked in with grace wearing a black off-the-shoulder dress. An announcement was made in Prench, but in that, a name was spoken: “Jeanne Antoinette Poisson.” She entered solemnly but with a smile on her face as she faced the table where the king sat on the other end, and before him, curtsies three times.
“Maybe my Prench history is a little rusty.” Shining Armor said allowed, “But what’s going on?”
“I think I have an idea,” Twilight answered, “And I’ve heard of this before. In this time period, Prench Kings have what was called a Maistresse Déclaré, in other words, an official mistress.”
“She’s not just any mistress to the king,” Discord clarified, “from this point on, she will now be known as the official lover of the King with a name some of you may have heard of: Madame de Pompadour.”
“What a charming name.” Fancy commented.
“His wife thinks so too.”
“WHAT!?” exclaimed the entire class in shocked roar.
Discord blinked, “What do you all mean what?”
“Excuse us, partner,” Big Mac raised a hoof before pointing at the king. “So… He’s married?”
“By now… Thirty-five years. Yes.”
“And he’s getting a… mistress?”
“Yep. Not the first nor the last, but yes.”
“So… W-What about his wife?”
Discord tilted his head, “Okay, what about her?”
“Ain’t all this… Ah don’t know… cheating?”
Suddenly, Discord started to laugh. Hard. So much so that he rolled on the floor. Big Mac demanded what he found so funny.
“Sorry, I keep forgetting that you…” he chuckled, “You all don’t know yet. Give me a minute.” After taking in some calming breaths, enough to make him float again, he said, “Look around at the faces, do you see anyone in this court that’s disgusted by this arrangement?”
The students did and saw that the expressions of these nobles from long ago seemed genuinely pleased. Full of smiles and approvals. It took a moment for them to realize it, but Rainbow Dash spoke aloud: “Hang on… You mean they’re all doing this?”
“Give Mrs. Pride Month a prize!” Discord applauded, summoning a plush toy of him into Rainbow’s arms in which she wisely threw away. “Hey, Spoiled, remember the question you asked? Well, here it is. Before the Romantics were born, believe it or not, adultery as we call it was seen more as an annoying but predictable problem. That’s because everyone, from kings to peasants, from the near west to the far east, they all entered a marriage with an idea that you could have either marriage or love – but you can’t have; nor should you mix – both. Ask any of these aristocrats and they will tell you that all marriage is good for is for producing foals, bringing in useful ponies to help out with your business, and more importantly: continuity. Love was what you saved for someone else to have all the drama, excitement, and sexy times with. Around this era, you were practically encouraged to have at least one mistress, and no one will judge you harshly for it. If anything, the more you have, the higher your status is.”
“What about the Queen?” Silverstream inquired. “I mean, with this event here, isn’t she the least bit torn up by it?”
“On the contrary,” Discord smirked, “she helped hoof picked his husband’s mistresses. All of them.” The entire class went silent. “If anything, Louis’s wife isn’t bothered. She’s too busy with reading, playing music, and other court drama to give much of a thought about what her husband is doing. In fact, years later she will pick up a few lovers here and there. The king helped hoofpicked them too.”
“Well…” Cadence said, “at least it’s consensual.”
“Prance,” Trixie, who up until now had been silent, and her mane was wrapped in a towel. “It’s a whole different planet, am I right?”
“Oh, it’s not just here.” Discord informed, “This same attitude and practice has been more widespread than you think. Most courts around the world at this point have been doing the same thing. Even Celestia got in on the action. Literally.”
“What!” Twilight exclaimed.
“Hey, when you’re a statue in the garden of a may or may not be a deity, you surprisingly pick up on a few things. Sure, Celestia may never been married, but that didn’t mean she didn’t pick up on a few lovers here and there. I mean…” He chuckled, “Why do you think someone as powerful and assassin-proof as she would need all those guards for? Their security is legendarily sucky; and the real reason why they were formed, to begin with, is to give the princess some… how do I put this…? Entertainment.”
“Moving on!” Twilight commanded, her cheeks turning red at the implications.
“Okay, very well.” Discord rolled his eyes. “Now, since I’ve given you the background for what’s to come next, by now you’re probably thinking how we got from this to what we think love should be?” They nodded. “For that, let’s go back to meet someone.”
A snap had the class returned to the gorgeous autumn landscape. However, the class immediately noticed that they were not alone. Sitting on a stump was a figure who had his back against them. It looked like another Discord as if he was playing a part in Pride and Prejudice. From the mood-ring-like overcoat and vest that changed color in the light, to the towering collar and ascot that tied his giraffe-like neck; this copy even had a pair of breaches that covered over his long socks. They also noticed that in his paw he was holding a book, busy reading it, and taking notes with his tail.
“Mares and Gentlecolts,” Discord said, “beginning in the second half of the eighth century was a movement that turned the idea of love on its head. I give you – the Romantic!”
The other Discord closed both books, “Ah! What genius! What glorious majesty is-” The period dressed Discord turned around and took notice of the class. “Oh, hello. Sorry, I didn’t hear you approach.”
“Hello other me!” Discord waved, “What do you got there?”
“This?” The Romantic Discord laughed, “Probably the most influential book about love of all time! Don’t tell me none of you have heard: The Sorrows of Young Werther, have you?” Twilight raised a hoof, “Anyone besides the bookworm?” She lowered her hoof, giving the other Discord a displeased look. “This book has taught me more about what to expect out of love than any other I’ve come across.”
“Oh, do tell,” Discord slunk over to his copy, “mind enlightening us what you’ve learned.”
“Absolutely! This should go out to the whole world because of its brilliance! Let’s see…” Taking up the notes off of his tail, he quickly reviews it for a moment. “Well, I’ve learned many important things. That one wouldn’t need an education in love for one ought to follow one’s heart when they encounter… the one. You will know when you found the love of your life when they have both an inner and outer beauty. All loneness will disappear forever; and therefore, you will never be attracted to anyone else again. What else…? Oh! The right one will understand us immediately and completely, inside and out, without the need for pesky words. There will be no more need to explain anything to them for they will just know instantly.
“Because of this, lovers shall have no more secrets. If you find someone you love, they will accept absolutely everything about you and you with everything with them. Even if you do have to talk, you can finally be fully honest with them and be your authentic self.
“What else…?” He looked through his notes: “Ah yes! Because we will marry by our emotions, we can be deeply hopeful now when it comes to a marriage of passion to be happier rather than icy reason. So much so, that even sex will be satisfying and more frequent than ever. This is because us Romantics think that sex should and can be united for the first time; as it ought to be. Getting to have satisfying sex with someone you genuinely love should be the very height of your romantic commitment with someone. Likewise, not having sex daily or having an affair would spell a heartbreaking, tragic disaster! The likes of which only seen in the Ancient Pegasi tragedy. However, if you do find the one, there shall be no loss of sexual or emotional intensity; even after you have foals.
“Any mentions of practicalities or money is cold and will kill whatever passion between lovers had.
“But what else…? Also, our loves will be able to do absolutely and be everything we needed from them: our soulmate, best friend, co-parent, co-chauffeur, accountant, household manager, small business partner, chef, laundress, tailor, maid/butler, assistant, therapist, mind reader, plumber, repairman, technology wizard, landscaper, librarian, gameshow host, masseuse, angel, and spiritual guide.
“In other words, when you find the one, you and they will live happily ever after.”
“Hang on,” Fancy Pants raised a hoof. “Pardon, but are you telling us that all of that; everything that should be common sense when it comes to love came from them?”
“And this idea is about over two-centuries-old,” Discord the Romantic informed, “give or take a few decades.”
“To answer your question,” Discord nodded, “the answer is yes. Everything you think you know what love is about – most likely comes from this time period. It’s no accident that even these ideas go into books that are read to children like… The Brothers Grimm Fairytales for instance have these ideas in one form or another. Everything from walking through the mists in the forests to knights in Shining Armor, to the couple here…” he pointed to Cadence and Shining Armor, “have been influenced by Romanticism. When it comes to love, we are still living in the age of Romanticism.”
Fleur cleared her throat. “Alright, but… what’s wrong with that? I get by the tone that it’s a bad thing.”
Discord started to float over to her. “All of these ideas are beautiful. They work well enough on paper and in romantic novels, movies, comics, even fanfictions. The idea that love should be… lovely is quite a nice idea – except for one itsy, bitsy, tinny little detail that’s often overlooked.”
Fleur tilted her head as Discord surrounded her. “And what’s that?”
“In practice – it doesn’t work.”
“What!” the Romantic Discord objected. “What do you mean it doesn’t work?! Everything I’ve mentioned has been around for centuries.”
“Being culturally ingrained for a long time is not the same as a law of the universe!” Discord argued, “Do you have any idea what-so-ever how much damage these ideas have?”
“You’re the teacher, I thought you knew.”
“And I do. To pull an Adam Ruins Everything,” Discord said, putting on a blond wing on his head. “While all of these things you’ve said sounds good, they tend to overlook a few inconveniences.”
“Such as?” Gallus inquired.
“For example, it should be noted that the folks that came up with the idea of Romanticism: most of them didn’t have a job; and they tend to drop dead when they’re young. If anything, most of them were practically unemployable, which is why they could spend more time in their lover’s arms and take long walks into the woods. (It also explains why no Romantic of any sort has ever mentioned doing any household chores with their lovers such as laundry or arguing where the dishes should go.) Also, since they tend to die pretty young, mostly before they turn forty, their love stories would go as such: they fall in love, get married and – cough, cough – they’re in the coffin with syphilis – cough, hooker, cough! And that’s pretty much it.”
“Just because we died young,” the Romantic Discord folded his arms, pouting, “and that we were turned down from getting a job, doesn’t mean we don’t have anything worth influencing.”
“Maybe so.” Discord said but suddenly paused, “You know what, starting tomorrow, and throughout this week, I’m going to dissect your argument about love through the various stages of it.”
The other Discord tilted his head. “Stages?”
“You know: Single, dating, married, having an affair, leaving the relationship, and doing it all again. I’m going to have you come along too because I have to show you the other thing about why relationships tend to fail.”
“And what’s that?”
Before Discord could answer, an alarm clock was loudly ringing. Holding up a paw, he reached into his chest to pull out an hourglass. “Ah, well looks like our time is up for now.” He turned back to the students. “Tomorrow we’ll be talking about the Single folks. For now, class is dismissed.”
Summoning a paintbrush again, he painted for them the door that they came in through. Soon the students left the reality-defying room – all except for one.
“You think I should have done it longer?” Discord asked.
Fluttershy shook her head. “I think it’ll be enough for today.”
“Hey… before you go.” Discord rubbed the back of his neck, “I do want to ask if you’re still willing to go through with this class all the way through.”
“Well, I promised that I would.”
“I know, but from the knowledge I’ve gathered, the thing is…”
Fluttershy went up and put a comforting hoof on his shoulder. “It’s okay, take your time to tell me.”
Discord took in several deep, calming breaths. “I know it’s ridiculous but… I’m afraid that we might get to some points where it’ll make you…” He took another deep breath. “Change your mind.”
She hugged him. “I know what I was asking, and I’ve prepared myself for the worst.”
“But-”
“They need to know what you know first. That’s what we agreed on. And I promised that I will attend the class to let me know what I’m going to get myself into. As of now, I have not changed my mind.” She smiled kindly, “So, your turn to host our tea party?”
“I didn’t forget. I’ll see you there.” After the two of them bid each other farewell and Fluttershy left the classroom that Discord’s smile faded into concern. He turned around to face his now frozen counterpart. “I do hope this is a good idea.”
Lesson 2 - On Being Single
The next morning, the students had returned, waiting in front of the classroom door. Among them, Gallus looked over to his old friend, Sandbar. “So, are you two still going steady?”
Sandbar nodded, “Yeah. Ever since we graduated and got a job at Rarity’s Boutique, we have more time to date more often.”
“How long has that been going on?”
“Oh… a couple of years. Three or four, I think.”
Gallus nodded and glanced over at Yona who was talking to Silverstream about something. “Does she make you happy?”
This gave Sandbar pause. “Yes. And no, I didn’t forget about what you said at the dance.”
He waved a claw. “That’s history. Truthfully I’m glad Discord intervened before it got ugly.”
“Still…” Sandbar rubbed the back of his head. “I still remember how you said that you were jealous of us. We still feel bad that neither of us noticed we uh… broke your heart.”
“Dude, stop. You don’t have to feel guilty for something you didn’t mean to. I’ve been trying to move on, you know.”
“Have you…?”
“What?”
“Have you found someone else, if it’s okay for me asking.”
Gallus folded his arms and shook his head. “It’s not that I didn’t try. But it’s like no matter where I go or what I do, I keep finding dates that are either too good for me or not enough.”
“That’s because you have high standards.”
“Considering my past track-record before and during my time here at the school, somehow I highly doubt it.” He frowned, “Still, I do wonder how come it’s taking me so long to find someone. It’s not that I’m not unknown or that I live in the middle of nowhere, so you’d think I might be dating like the rest of you guys by now.”
“Not everyone is.”
“Really?” Gallus raised an eyebrow, “Who?”
“Silverstream isn’t seeing anyone. I’m not sure that the reason is, but I’m sure she’s not dating anyone. I guess, if I didn’t know any better, I would suggest you ask her out but…”
“Yeah…” Gallus nodded.
“Quick question,” both Sandbar and Gallus jumped when suddenly, out of nowhere and without warning, Discord was next to them with a clipboard. “if you all can gather around, I want to ask, what’s the relationship status with everyone here?”
Starlight stepped up: “Discord, as a teacher, you’re not supposed to ask those sorts of questions to your students.”
“Well it’s a good thing that all of them aren’t official students of the school, adults, and taking a summer class – in other words, I’m the star of this fanfic, your argument is invalid.”
“I thought you’re supposed to be consistent.”
“I’m a being made out of pure chaos, are you really that shocked that I’m not?”
“…. Point taken.”
“Hang on,” Filthy Rich raised a hoof, “Why do you want to know? I mean what are you going to use it for?”
“To bake a pazooki with it – no, for info. But trust me, I need it for today’s lesson… as well as the rest.”
One by one, Discord made tally marks of how many of them were currently single, dating, married, or divorced. Eight of them declared themselves single. Eight were dating. Fourteen were married. And among them, two of them were considering divorce.
“Good. And since everyone is here and not late.” He smirked, eyeing Trixie, “Glad someone learned their lesson.” Turning to the classroom door. “Now come along! Let’s start with the Single folks.” Turning the knob, he gestured over to the students: “Singles first.”
“Why do I have a bad feeling about this?” Gallus questioned.
“Because it’s too ominous,” Twilight answered, agreeing with what he meant.
Gallus, Silverstream, Ms. Harshwhinny, Soarin, Miss. Cheerliee, Rarity, Fluttershy, and Twilight entered into a dark but huge room. The further they walked on into the blacken abyss, the less they were able to see any sort of light from behind them. Soon the other students seemed to follow behind them, but being so dark, it was hard to tell where exactly they were.
“So is there a reason why everything is dark?” Sweetie Drops inquired.
“None of you are walking into a trap if that’s what you’re asking.” Discord replied as he closed the door behind them, sending the entire class into complete darkness. “I think all of you can stop and take a seat.”
“What seat?” Trixie questioned.
“Can someone get the lights?” Sandbar asked.
As if an answer from the universe, stage lights lit up all around them. They blinked a few times as there was an applause from direction. When they could see, they were looked about and found they were inside a sound stage, complete with an audience of Discords with them at the front row. They saw a crew of Discord’s duplicates holding up cameras, microphones that were hanging off of fishing polls, and a makeup artist on standby.
Before them was a stage where the eight other students stood. Each of them was near a podium with their names on it. The students quickly realized that they were on some sort of game show, complete with loud, bright-neon colors of yellow and blue with red cardboard hearts on the walls. It was complete with a green and pink poke-a-dot floor, bright lightbulbs that stuck out from the stage and podiums, and even a large, tacky gold curtains on each side of the stage.
Realizing what Discord was talking about, the students took their seats as the lights dimmed and a spotlight came on from one end of the stage.
“Live from Ponyville!” Discord’s voice boomed, “It’s everyone’s favorite game show that no one wants to play, it’s…”
“WHY AM I SINGLE!” The other Discords cheered and applauded as a sign descended on the stage with the same name in a crazy font.
“And here he is, ready to dismantle all conventions and explode conversations – here he is – the one and only handsome Draconequus, Discord!”
What came on stage was Discord in an outfit that nearly made Rarity lose her breakfast at the sight of it. He walked on stage in a suit that made it look like he grabbed a box and spray painted it with golden sparkles on it. From the pointy shoulder pads to the striped blood red and baby puke green pants; even the abstract art tie made everything Discord was wearing look like a dated eyesore. He walked out with a grin, waving with a free claw and a microphone in his paw.
“Hello, folks! It’s time to play: Why Am I Single! The game where the most die-hard Romantics want to avoid at all costs. Speaking of which, here to be taught a lesson on why being single isn’t as bad as he thinks, here as a guest host is Discord the Romantic!”
The reaction from the clone audience was what one could best describe as icy, a bitter silence except for one of the clones clapping while the Romantic Discord walked on stage. This of course didn’t go unnoticed as the better-dressed Discord folded his arms. “Why do I get the impression I’m not exactly welcomed here?”
“You’ll get used to it. Now!” Discord suddenly turned to the students on stage. “The game is simple. All any of you have to do is answer one question about yourselves honestly. Which means giving a straight, to the point answer and no distracting ones that avoid the truth. If you do, you’ll go to the next round and earn a prize. If not, then you’ll get a pie in the face.”
Twilight blinked. “That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
She looked around at the other “contestants,” her suspicions weren’t satisfied. “What’s the catch?”
“Nothing further than to be educational and prove a point. So, since you first spoke up, Princess Twilight Sparkle, it’s time for you to ask yourself…”
“WHY AM I SINGLE!?” The multiple Discords cheered.
“Huh,” Twilight smirked, “Well this will be easy. Because as a Princess, I have a lot of stuff to do.”
A loud, annoying buzzing sound was heard, and a red light shines down on the Princess.
“Wrong answer!” Discord bellowed as he quickly went to one side of the stage and pulled a lever. Twilight suddenly was ejected out from a spring-loaded trap door upward, out from the stage, through the ceiling and just as she did, a TV screen came down with a black-and-white image of a huge cream pie in which Twilight landed in face-first.
This managed to entertain both Discords and students alike, especially when Twilight spat out the white fluff. “Discord you animal! This is shaving cream!”
Ms. Harshwhinny squinted, “Amateurish, but effective.”
“Your turn!” Discord said, “Just remember, give a straight to the point answer. So, can you answer…”
“WHY AM I SINGLE!?” The Discorded audience demanded.
“Well…” She hesitated; her mind went blank at the question she was now facing. Ms. Harhwhinny maybe a professional when it came to organizing events with a critical eye, even commanding an army of ponies to get the Equestrian Games running like a well-designed machine – but it was another when the eyes of so many were prying her for personal questions. “I’ve assumed that I might be getting… old?”
“Nope!” Another screaming buzz, Discord flung the lever and Ms. Harshwhinny was thrown out and into the pie on screen. “I can’t tell you how satisfying that is. Now, who wants to go next?”
“What’s the point of this game?” Romantic Discord questioned. “Unless you want to waste my time, I prefer to write emo poetry and contemplate drinking a bottle of poison because the love of my life hasn’t looked at me again.”
“Firstly, dark. And second, yes, I do have a point with this game.”
“Really? You could have fooled me. What is it?”
A lightbulb lit up over Discord’s head. “Since you seem so well versed with the whole Romantic point of view, do you honestly think that somewhere, out there, there’s a mate for all of these contestants?”
“Well, of course. Everyone has a soul mate.”
“So why haven’t they found theirs yet?”
The Romantic Discord blinked. “Pardon?”
“If there is the perfect soulmate for all of them somewhere out there, why haven’t they found the right one by now?”
“Well…” Discord the Romantic paused, putting a talon underneath his chin to think for a moment. “It may be possible that for some, they might have moved somewhere and haven’t gone to enough social gatherings. Or maybe they may live in an isolated village on top of mountains where there’s an inconsistent bus service that only arrives once every few thousand years.”
Silverstream raised her claw. “I don’t think that’s the reason. I mean I’m not completely isolated, and I meet new creatures all the time. Even went to my fair share of parties and I still haven’t found anyone yet.”
“I agree.” Fluttershy nodded. “It’s not that we’re not unknown to so many either. A few of us are famous.”
“Not to mention that a few of us have, ya know, jobs.” Gallus pointed out. “Some of us can’t afford to go out on blind dates with complete strangers who we just said hello to.”
“As well as not easy to find,” Soarin added. “My old Capitan, Spitfire, it took her years, decades or so to finally find someone to settle down with.”
“Now these are some very good points,” Discord nodded. “Although, it’s not the only reason – especially if it’s long term. But before I go any further, Romantic me, would you give us your view on Single folks?”
Handing the microphone over, the Romantic Discord took hold of it. “Well… What’s there to say? Singlehood is a lonely town to reside in, and to be there for a very long time… well, no one will see them as normal. You can’t expect to be normal and alone, that’s just common sense. Everyone assumes that no respectable being could be isolated unless they recently moved into a new country or became a black widow. Otherwise, you might be accused of being ‘anti-social.’ If they haven’t found their soul mate yet, then perhaps it might be due to bad luck or their current circumstances.”
“Well, you’ve hammered the viewpoint of a good chunk of the world down.” Discord commented, using a detached goatee as a microphone. “So, according to you, how would they know they find someone who’s right for them?”
“Hmm, big question isn’t it? Truthfully, it could happen at any time. Maybe when m at work, going for a fly, at a ball, on a mission to assassinate a princess; but it will come out seemingly from nowhere when you’ll spot the love of your life. You may not even know much about them at all – but I suppose that is for the best because the less you know about them, the more in love you’ll be. For all you might have known about them would be from the sound of their voices, how their manes are parted, a delicate hoof, a warm smile, or a twinkle from their eye. Just by looking at them, you will just know that’s your soulmate.”
“So… from a crush that’s love at first sight then?”
“Yes, pretty much.”
“If that’s true, how come they haven’t managed to find their soulmate in years?”
“Well… uh…” the Romantic Discord tugged at his collar. “Maybe they uh…”
“Yeah,” Soarin spoke up. “How come I’m single? Really, I don’t get it at all. I’m good looking, got famous from the Wonderbolts, have fans, went to… certain bars. Even had a share of one-night stands. So how come I still haven’t found any love yet? I don’t know about the rest of you, but it’s not like I wasn’t trying.”
“Tell me about it.” Rarity rolled her eyes, “I can write a series of novels alone with my pursuit of true love based on what your uh… Romantic self said. And Blueblood alone…” She gagged.
“Which brings over to you!” Discord suddenly turned to her. “It’s time for you to answer the question…”
“WHY AM I SINGLE!?” The other Discords questioned aloud in a chorus.
Rarity pondered this for a moment and considering what she had heard, perhaps the best way to come out of this without splashing face-first into shaving cream was to tell the truth. “I suppose… it’s because, despite all the dates, the reason I haven’t found the right one is that maybe there’s something about me that I may have… overlooked?”
A cheery ding-ding was heard. “Congrats!” Discord declared with a smile, “For that, you get to stick around for the next round.”
“Wait, overlooked?” the Romantic Discord asked, completely confused, “What is she talking about?”
“Think about it, despite having different backgrounds, what do each of these singles have in common?”
After thinking for a moment, Silverstream raised her claw. “Oh! Oh! Pick me! Pick me!”
“And with that,” Discord turned to the giddy Hippogriff, “Silverstream, it’s time to answer…”
“WHY AM I SINGLE!?” The Discord audience called out with the enthusiasm of a favorite sports team about to win.
“It’s taken me a while,” she answered, “but I think I figured out your big riddle. All of us are different, but if I’m hearing this right, the real reason why we’re all still single has nothing to do with sociability, it has something to do with us.”
“In particular…?” Discord leaned over, waving his lion paw to finish her train of thought.
“Does it have something to do with our past?”
A long series of cheerful dings were heard as confetti fell from the ceiling. “Yes! You got it! That was the crowning answer all along!”
Just as Discord was congratulating her by shaking her talons, a cream-covered Twilight and Ms. Harshwhinny entered back on stage. Both of the mares were still busy trying to brush the shaving cream off of their coats and manes. Twilight cleared her throat, thus forcing all the Discords to look at her.
“Excuse me, Discord,” she inquired, “I have a question: What does our past have anything to do with our love lives (or lack thereof) in the present?”
“A perfect Segway into the second reason why relationships go wrong.” As Discord says this, the lights on the stage dim except for the spotlight on him. “Apart from Romanticism, there’s one thing that has secretly been the cause of countless divorces, affairs, unsatisfied marriages, sour relationships, and even to an extent of why one is single for life. And that’s…”
He waved a paw upward and suddenly a sign, written in lightbulbs lit up; and the Discord copies cheered out that single word:
“Childhood!” The audience applauded.
“Hang on!” Trixie, after listening to all of this, finally stood up. “So what you’re telling us that everything that has gone wrong could be traced back in foalhood? This sounds like a bunch of psychobabble.”
“Meaning that they don’t know what they’re talking about.” Discord pointed out. “But the truth is that you don’t have to be a headshrinker to take on board a key idea. What these Single folks (and all of you for that matter) are looking for isn’t someone good for you. If anything, none of you are really looking for actual love per-say. Oh no. What you are searching for, is someone who feels vaguely familiar.”
“Now what are you talking about?” The Romantic Discord objected, stepping into the spotlight. “This is love we’re talking about here. What everyone wants is an angel that will make one feel less lonely.”
“Wrong again my duplicate.” Discord said as the lights on stage came back up. This time the stage had expanded to where behind the contestants, there was a purple space with blue arrows and hot pink blobs. There were also two large screens with plungers hooked up by wires. “The truth is, the way we learn about what love is like tend to come from our families. Parents, siblings, caretakers, and the like. And I’m not talking about the kind of love where it was all sweet, kind, and charitable. Because on some level, even when they didn’t intend it, these families have damaged every one of us in some way. Perhaps daddy was distant, or mommy was angry, or your siblings belittled and bullied you. Whatever they did, they scarred you for life. So, by the time we grow up, we want someone that resembles our family – both the good sides and the bad – all rolled up in one person. We’re not on a quest to find kindness, but to be tortured the same way we were used to.”
“That’s very interesting,” the Romantic Discord rolled his eyes. “On what basis do you have to back this up?”
He grinned. “Can I get a volunteer from the contestants?”
There was hesitation among them. They looked at one another, uncertain what Discord was planning to do.
Gallus stepped forward. “Okay, let’s get this over with.”
“Splendid! Step right up to the Memory Reader 2000!” Approaching Discord, he waved over to a raised platform where Discord took one of the plungers and stuck it to his head. On the screen behind him, there was static that crackled. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong,” Discord said, pacing in front of him, “has there ever been a time where your friends had set you up for a date.”
“Well…” Gallus began but hesitated, however, behind him the screen became clear as it was showing Sandbar and Yona from his point of view.
“Do I have to go?” A young Gallus was heard, making the present one suddenly turns around in shock.
“Just trust us,” Yona told him on screen. “Gallus will like café. And Gallus will like pony.”
“He’s a friend of mine.” Sandbar said. “You guys have so much in common that I think things will click between ya.”
“So… you guys didn’t tell anyone else that… y-you know.” Gallus asked nervously.
“Your secret is safe with us, man.” Sandbar looked at him in the eye, putting a hoof on his shoulder. “I’ve explained you’re not ready to come out yet and he understands.”
Yona nodded, “Yona interrogated pony. Very nice and noble. Pony will be good for Gallus.”
The present Gallus suddenly turned around where he caught Silverstream and Twilight’s reaction – their jaw dropped in surprise. He grabbed Discord’s collar. “You may be one of my favorite teachers – but you outing me like this isn’t cool!”
“Calm down, there’s a point to be made here.” Discord used his talons to sever his tie like scissors. Then taking out a pocket watch, he opened it and looked at whatever was glowing inside, he smiled. “Besides, you’ll thank me for this.”
“What point?” Gallus demanded.
“Think back to when those two asked you how the date went the next day.”
The screen changed to what looked like the next morning while the three of them ate breakfast. “So,” Sandbar inquired. “How did it go?”
“Everyone,” Discord called out, “listen carefully.”
“I uh…” the past Gallus began, seeming to think over what to say. “I guess it was… okay?”
Yona blinked. “Okay?”
“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, we had the same interests, he’s told me he was getting into the Supercolt comics, he is nice but… I don’t know… we just didn’t click. I can’t figure out what it was. Perhaps it was the lack of chemistry, maybe he wasn’t that interesting. Still, something was missing from the guy, I found him boring, to be honest.”
Discord pulled out a remote control to put the screen on pause. “Interesting choice of words there, Gallus.”
“Well, I meant what I said.”
“But what exactly were you trying to say?” He pressed a button in which it reversed the moment back a few seconds before pausing it. “Because here’s what’s really going on. On most dates, they tend to fail because both parties involved are looking for what’s vaguely familiar. So, when they encounter someone that is nice and kind, they tend to feel that they were… off. That there was something eerie and creepy about them; despite how genuine their kindness was. Any Psychoanalysis would tell you that when someone say that they found that person boring, what they actually mean is…” he pressed a few buttons where the bottom of the screen read “Emotional Translation.”
He pressed play, but despite the moment being the same, Gallus’s reply was completely different.
“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, we had the same interests, he’s told me he was getting into the Supercolt comics, he is nice but… the thing is…it’s not going to work. Because I can sense right away that he’s not going to make me suffer the way I’m used to suffering to make me think that love is real. I just knew he’s not going to make me unhappy in the way I’ve learned that love should make me unhappy.”
“Wait a minute!” Gallus objected, “I never said that! You all saw!”
“Touched a sensitive nerve, didn’t we?” Discord smirked. “That translation, by-the-way, is saying what your subconscious wanted to say but couldn’t get it out. However, even with the basics of psychology laid out, I still haven’t answered why you lot are single. So, for that… Silverstream, would you come here?”
Silverstream came up to them, and Discord directed her to the other platform where he stuck a plunger on her head. The screen behind her lit up with static.
“The funny thing is,” Discord continued, “despite all of us being damaged psychologically, not all scars are created equal. Depending on what your past was like, you may fall somewhere on the spectrum between two extremes of thought that is trapping you into being single. On the one end, you have too much self-hatred.” He waved over to Gallus, “and on the other, having too much self-love.” He waved over to Silverstream.
“I’ll start off with Gallus. With him, due to growing up in an environment that sees himself as a burden, where mercy has to be earned, where the love that was so craved was deprived…” He glanced up, and on the screen behind Gallus were memories of his childhood – of burying his parents; going to door to door to beg for food before said doors were being slammed in his face; of the cold, distant glare of Grandpa Gruff.
“Gee, thanks,” Gallus said coldly with harsh sarcasm, “I feel so much better.”
“I’m not finished,” Discord said before turning to the rest of his students. “Because the self-hated are so used to this sort of treatment, that when they grow up and try to find love – they find it extremely difficult to do so. When they encounter someone, regardless of how attractive, competent, and kind they seem – they begin to wonder why in all the world would they want to be near?” Another glance at the screen to see a montage of past dates that never went anywhere. A series of stallions morphed from one to another, yet on each of their faces a look of dissatisfaction. “After all, they’ll wonder, are they that stupid? That naïve? This desperate or weak to want to come near us? When one has been told that they have been worthless all their lives, only now to have someone say that we are… it feels odd. Because someone like Gallus is so convinced of his unlikability as a lover, any attention from anyone else seems fake at worst or proves that they have a terrible judgement of character at best. In other words, receiving love feels like a gift that it didn’t felt earned. Because the self-hated are so convinced that their dates must be blinded to their faults, they see it wise to pack up and get the Tartarus out of Dodge before their potential partner could do it for them.”
Gallus didn’t say anything as he sat there, his face angry yet hurt at this blunt statement Discord was making. And although he never said anything, the screen, however, picked up on his thoughts when Discord concluded. “Goddesses! I hate it when he’s right!”
“But, on the other end,” Discord turned his attention to Silverstream. “You also have those like the self-lovers. In plain Equestrian, that means someone who hesitates around fully coming to terms of what a challenge one is – yet, understandably feels that others should be grateful when someone, anyone really, looks their way.”
Silverstream raised an eyebrow. “Are you calling me selfish?”
“Not in the way you think. Because unlike Gallus, you come from the opposite end. A life where those who took care of you were adoring – if forgivably biased – family that has gifted you with the sense of how extremely lucky someone would be if someone worthy enough would be in your arms.” As he talked, he caught glimpses of Silverstream’s memories. Of her parents and her little brother under the sea. Happy and comforting memories of warmth and care. “Of course, the upside to this is out of this, those who find self-love have higher self-esteem and they feel they have a legitimate right to exist. However, despite the good intentions of the family, it did bring some downsides. When they grow up and live on their own for a while, they tend to develop a lot of back up problems that go unchecked. With no one around to hold up a mirror to us, we overlook how demanding, peculiar, and compulsive we are – not to mention we forget to consider the rage, anxiety, and moments of cruelty inside.”
“But I’m not bad,” Silverstream said stepping back. But meanwhile, on screen, her memories flashed to moments of stress when assisting her Queen Aunt with welcoming Equestrian dignitaries. Of her frustration when she struggled to master a tricky part of a painting that got blurry with every brushstroke. And a muddled argument with her brother.
“I didn’t say you were. It’s just that with no one trustworthy to reflect these things back to you, they tend to go unnoticed. Which leads to the next point: what both of you have in common.” Discord than drifted over to the other contestants. “This might sound harsh, but the following is to a degree true. Regardless of where on the spectrum you are between hating or loving yourself, we go throughout this world with our imaginations switched off. A word which here means, ‘Having the ability to look with the energy, compassion, and curiosity into the face and character of another being to search out what might be desirable and good in them.’ Without using this ability, our view of who could be dating gets very narrow, very quickly.”
He glided over to Rarity, “So let’s see… this character is nice but their nose is almost too… plastic surgery. So… no.”
“Hey!” Rarity objected but Discord moved before she could do anything.
“This mare is a teacher,” he waved over to Ms. Cheerliee, “but teachers are stuffy and boring. No.” Then to Soarin, “He used to be in the Wonderbolts… Eh, Wonderbolts in recent years has proved to be fickle and disloyal. No.” Then over to Ms. Harshwhinny, “She knows how to be well organized, but too old… Ew, no.” Next to Twilight, “Well this one is a genuine princess… But she’ll outlive you, so no.” Then to Fluttershy, “Well this one is promising, she’s super nice, takes care of animals, and had the reputation of being the Element of Kindness… But animals stink, so… no.”
Returning to Gallus and Silverstream, he said, “Having to use your imagination means being sensitive to the less than obvious things about someone. Anyone else would simply scan over the surface, and wonders about what could be worthy inside these characters that would be so easy to criticize. Yet, in truth, do so is too common and unrewarding.
“But what would happen though, if we do look at these same characters with imagination turned on? When you look at any of them, what could there be worth noticing about? Take Rarity,” he waved over. “Sure, her nose has been touched by surgery, but look at those sparkly sapphire eyes. Not to mention a body that would make any shallow mare easily jealous. Ms. Cheerliee might be a teacher is arguably unimpressive, but her interests are both wide and challenging. Soarin might have been a Wonderbolt but he may have a heart of gold. Ms. Harshwhinny may seem terrifying, but maybe underneath she is witty to those who know her well. Twilight is a Princess, but once you get to know her you might find she loves cuddling after a long day. And even Fluttershy, though she helps stinky animals also has a strong passion that is worth admiring.”
Discord the Romantic coughed to get his attention. “So what? Are you saying that we should… compromise by settling with anyone we just meet?”
“No. I’m not saying you should lower your standards but expand your imagination. It is the key to love. However, this goes both ways, mind you. Because at the end of the day, it’s important to have this skill so we could be tolerated and forgiven over in the long term by anyone. Doing so could change lives entirely. After all,” Every copy of Discord turned to look at Fluttershy. “I should know. Now that we got all that out of the way, it’s time to end our-”
“Wait a minute!” the Romantic Discord objected, “Aren’t you forgetting something important?”
Discord scratched his head. “What do you mean? I think I’ve covered all the basics.”
“Not all of them.” Discord the Romantic pointed out, “You are overlooking a big fear among your contestants.”
“The show’s cancelation and being replaced by a dumbed-down, cutesy cartoon?”
“No! What if they don’t find love at all? Have you or your high flatulent analysis ever think of that?”
“Ooh,” Discord folded his arms. “That’s right, I nearly forgot. Well since you brought it up; here’s another truth that they tend to overlook, even in basic sex-ed classes.”
“Yeah? And what’s that?”
“When it comes to being single, it’s not about being single itself that causes misery, but our judgment about it. Setting the chances that you might find someone much later in life aside; if any of you do end up all alone, never married, and never found the love of your life – sorry to shatter your fears, but even then, it’s not the end of the world.”
“Okay, stop!” the Romantic Discord waved his arms, “Now you’ve gone too far!”
“In what? Telling you a truth you don’t want to hear? Because here’s a thing with what you have done, Mr. Love-is-all-you-need!” He grabbed his copy by the collar of his overcoat. “You Romantics were so focused on finding a partner that would make you happy that you’ve neglected about the Singles. It’s because of you, countless creatures all over the world rather marry the wrong person than being alone! You’ve created a Frankenstallion monster that being single for trillions of years is the worst thing in the world because you said it was! I got news for you buddy, picking just anyone, settling with the wrong one for years, enjoyment being spoiled, being piled with more problems of being a couple than single, being afraid to speak up, and being stuck with that problem of a partner because they can’t see doing anything themselves isn’t anyone’s idea of love!”
“Are you done ranting?” Discord the Romantic asked flatly.
Discord took in a deep breath, and, noticing the reaction of his wide-eyed students that were taken aback from his rant, he set his copy down and straightened out his mane. “The point is,” Discord continued, “the Singles have an advantage over the couples that are often overlooked. That they have more time to develop who they are, what they want, be their own individual. Not only that, but they have the advantage of getting to know more people and learning more about who they are that can only come from being isolated. Heck, they might not be miserable after a while, because they can get used to being Single. The older they get, the more it should show that they don’t have anything wrong with them, they just have all the patients in the world to be with the right one, rather than just settle with anyone.”
“Now that I can agree with.” Ms. Harshwhinny said aloud, nodding.
“If you are lonely,” Discord continued, addressing to everyone on stage. “My advice for all of you is don’t be afraid of it. Yes, if there’s one thing that the Romantics are right about: is that being alone is a tax for having a complex mind. However, it's possible that someone else that will understand you fully. On that bit, they are kinda right. Unfortunately, meeting them in real life is rare as snow in July. Perhaps the one that can understand you fully has passed you by in the street and none of you noticed. Or that they died two weeks ago in Trottingham or wouldn’t be born until several centuries later. In fact, Romantic me, it might surprise you that Goethe, near the end of his life and surrounded by friends have snapped at them, saying bitterly: ‘No one has ever properly understood me, I had never fully understood anyone! No one understands anyone else!’”
“Wait,” Discord the Romantic said in surprise, “Goethe said that?”
Discord nodded. “His outburst was incredibly helpful in the long run. Being alone is never a sign that life has gone wrong, but what everyone should have expected from the beginning. If you embrace being alone, what’s stopping you from being creative with it? Sure, the present wouldn’t get it now, but who’s to say that someone, somewhere down the line of time will?
“Heck, what is the history of art, rather than a record of those who had no one nearby to talk to? There’s a good deal of comfort from just reading the stories, the depressing poetry, the bleak artwork of those who have been alone all their lives. You’d be surprised by the number of geniuses who never found love, and yet, created works so to reach out to the viewer with a reassuring, ‘I know.’ Being alone helps all of them finding true intimacy if such an opportunity comes along. They might be isolated for now, but they have signed up to a club of the genuinely interesting.”
Just then, a planet-sized disco ball dropped from the ceiling and some cheesy music started to play. “Well, folks!” Discord said into the microphone, “That’s all we have for today! Tune in sometime later for another round of-”
“WHY AM I SINGLE!?” The Discord audience cheered and applauded as the original waved at them.
“And… we’re off.” Someone from the camera crew called out as they rushed on stage with a folding chair and a buffet.
“Well, that was fun.” Discord said, ditching the awful suit and exchanging for a tapestry for a napkin to tie around his neck. “Class is dismissed.”
The door to the hallway opened up, and the other students started to head that direction. All except for Fluttershy who Discord waved over as if to invite her to have lunch with him.
After detaching the plungers off their heads, Gallus and Silverstream walked off the stage with the Griffon trying extra hard not to look at anyone in the eye. Silverstream went up to him to try to hug him but he brushed it off before she could do it. However, they both stopped when Twilight walked in front of him.
“Gallus,” Twilight said, thus getting his attention, “a word if you please.”
Both Twilight and Silverstream caught a glint of fear in his eye, but despite the hesitation, he nodded and followed the Princess out in the hallway and into a nearby classroom to where it was only just them.
“Before I say anything,” Twilight began after closing the door behind them, “I just want you to know that-”
“Please don’t fire me,” Gallus begged, kowtowing at her hooves. “I’ve been loyal to you all this time and I can’t afford to lose what I’ve gained. I promise I’ll never look at a guy again just-”
“Gallus, slow down.” Twilight took a step back and using her magic set the griffon back upright. “You’re okay. I’m not going to punish you over something like this. Grant it, what Discord did was not appropriate (but not unsurprising), however, I’m more concerned that you inflict yourself with hating yourself to unhealthy levels.”
“Princess, my business is nothing to be concerned over.”
“You’re the captain of my guard, and everyone that works for me and Equestria is my business.” She sat down next to Gallus and put a comforting wing over him. “What I can’t figure out is why you never told anyone that you’re-”
“A pervert?”
Twilight frowned. “I was going to say your attraction. I mean… even when I was Headmare, you do know I allowed a Gay-Straight Alliance club, right? I wouldn’t approve that if I disagreed with it. Gallus, I don’t have anything against who you fall for.”
“Easy for you to say, Your Highness. It’s just…” Gallus hesitated, gathering his thoughts to come up with the right words. “Griffonstone isn’t exactly the most… tolerant place in the world. I… never told anyone except Sandbar and Yona because… I don’t know… It was a defense mechanism, I guess? In Griffonstone, being gay is seen as the worst thing in the world you could be, and if everyone else knew for a fact you were…” He shook his head. “I chose silence out of safety. I had more chance of getting something to eat when everyone thinks I’m normal than… you know. And the weird thing is that even when I moved here, there’s just… something in my head that kept me chained into being quiet. Can you blame me? I’ve seen guys being thrown out into the street, even murdered because they loved the wrong Griffon. I know I should get over this but it’s… it’s not something you could magic away.
“But even in a tolerant country, I still couldn’t figure out why I can’t find anyone that’s… good for me. Until Discord laid it all out for the world to see. And as much as I hate it what he did… he’s right. That being convinced I’m not worth loving…” he shut his eyes tight to stop the tears from falling; as his voice became choked before he could finish his sentence.
The hug from the Princess got tighter. “Gallus, you are worth being loved as much as anyone. I know you may not have a happy beginning, but it shouldn’t put you in a box. Maybe what Discord is doing is to show you what you have so you can know what to do with it. He’s right that while your reason to be deeply suspicious comes from an understandable place, that doesn’t mean that you’re not worth having their kindness.”
“Easy for you to say,” Gallus sniffed. “What am I going to do now? After what Discord did, I doubt anyone is going to come near me with a mile-long pole.” As if a reply from the universe, there was a knock on the classroom door. “Occupied!”
“Are you that griffon guy?” Inquired a male voice.
“Who wants to know?”
“This is Soarin. C’mon, I want to talk to you.”
Blinking, he looked up at Twilight in confusion, who gave an honest shrug. Gallus walked over and opened the door wide enough to stick his head out. He found Soarin, a veteran Wonderbolt standing a few feet in front of him. He took notice of the Pegasus’s posture, a foreleg rubbing the other as well as an expression of worry.
“So…” Gallus began, “What do you want?”
“First off, you okay?”
He blinked, “Uh… yeah? And?”
“Look,” Soarin sighed, “I don’t pretend to know much about you. If anything, I don’t. However, from what I’ve seen of you… I’ve been there before.” Tilting his head, Gallus asked what he meant. “I know what it’s like to keep that part of you a secret and being convinced that nopony – well, nocreature – would be crazy enough to love you back. I’ve been in that lonely place of hating yourself despite what you’ve accomplished and gone at it alone, it’s hard.”
“That’s nice, but why are you telling me this?”
“I just… first to tell you coming from both me and your friends over there,” he pointed down the hallway, “that you’re not alone. And… call it crazy, but I was kinda wondering if you’re doing anything tonight?”
Gallus instantly backed up, blinking, “Wait, why?”
“I just liked to maybe get to know you a little,” Soarin said with a blush on his face.
Before the griffon could make a reply, they were startled when they heard a loud, piercing whistle above their heads. Looking up, Discord, this time in a black-and-white referee uniform, was blowing on a whistle. “Hold up! Hold up! I know where this is going, but please save this for tomorrow.”
“What?” Soarin asked. “Why tomorrow?”
“Because if this dating thing is going to be done, it’s best to wait for it when it counts.” Slithering onto the floor, he added, “Besides, I think for the other students, everyone here will appreciate the Art of Dating.”
Lesson 3 - On Dating
“You’re not telling me that there wasn’t anything wrong with what Discord said?” Shining questioned.
It was after the lesson on being Single that Shining, his wife, and his sister meet up to have lunch. In the corner of a hayburger restaurant, Twilight was still working her way through a mountain of hayburgers while her brother worked on one. Cadence, who was sitting across from them, picked at her salad in deep thought.
“That’s just it,” Cadence said, her fork trying to stab a carrot. “As far as I’m aware, nothing he said was inaccurate.”
Twilight swallowed the mouthful of her fourteenth burger. “Even about all that stuff of looking what’s familiar bit?”
“I know,” Shining said, “that’s gotta be nonsense, right?”
Cadence’s glance avoided their eyes. “Well…”
“You’ve got to be kidding!”
“He’s not wrong.” Setting the fork down, Cadence looked at her husband in the eye. “Hon, mind if I ask you a personal question?”
“Well, sure, what is it?”
“Out of everypony you came across, why did you fall in love with me? Think back to when we started dating, that after the infatuation settled down, what made you propose to me?”
“Because I love you.”
Cadence shook her head. “I know, but besides that. Really think about that, out of everyone, what made you say: ‘Yes, this is the one I want to marry?’”
Shining took a bite out of his burger, humming in thought. “You know,” he finally said, “I… Oddly I never really thought about it until now. I guess…” He took another bite, thinking further, “I loved you for being so forgiving. I loved you for being smart, and fun, and caring. You’re more organized than me. You take on everyone’s suggestions and ideas before making a serious decision. You allowed me to grow as an individual. You are a fantastic mother and loyal wife. And… no matter how bad things got, you never gave up on me.”
His wife nodded. “So, with all that in mind,” she used her fork to puncture a few leaves, “outside of me, do any of those traits sound… familiar to you?”
“Well… not really. The only other ponies I know are like you is… Mom… Dad and… Twilight… Ohh…”
Cadence nodded. “In a way, I may not be your family, but I reminded you of your family. The good parts I hope.”
“You know Cadence,” Twilight spoke up, “if that’s true that does beg the question – who does Shining remind you of?”
“He reminds me of the bit and pieces of the parents that adopted me, as well as Auntie Celestia, of course. Now that I think of it,” she put a hoof under her chin, “I can see now of several aspects that tend to pop up. He has Celestia’s courage, my mother’s patience, my father’s determination for everyone’s well-being.
“The funny thing,” she added, “is that although I have been made vaguely aware of this when I took a psychology class, I suppose I didn’t keep that fact in mind when I was dating Shining.”
“Speaking of dating,” Twilight said, “something interesting happened with my captain of the guard.”
“That reminds me!” Cadence turned to her, “How is Gallus?”
“He was upset at what Discord did. I don’t blame him for letting out a secret that he didn’t want anyone else to know. But on the way out, Soarin had invited him to get to know him better before Discord told them to wait until tomorrow.”
“Huh,” Shining blinked, “Soarin asked him out? I didn’t expect that.”
“Still, it does make me wonder what Discord is planning for us tomorrow.”
The next morning, the students found Discord in the hallway next to his classroom door. He hovered over a mat in a meditative pose of cross-legs, eyes closed, wearing a black-and-white bathrobe, a long beard, and chopsticks in his mane. Near him, also levitating were bowls that were singing a rendition of “I am the Walrus.”
“You know,” Lyra commented when she and her wife saw him, “when we first signed up for this class, this was what I was expecting.”
“Not to mention appropriately.” Discord said, opening an eye. “So, I take it that everyone’s here? Yes? Good.” Putting his arms into the enormous long sleeves he told them. “For today, we are going onto the next stage of Love – and that is the Art of Dating. Sure, some of you already married may think that this stage no longer applies to you. However, this is a stage where you might want to take on board due to the ideas here. Who knows, maybe it might enhance your relationship or be a guide to finding a good enough partner.”
“I guess that’s good,” Soarin said, looking over to Gallus, giving a smile. “When do we start?”
“First, pair up. Then the training will begin.”
This didn’t take long. Of course, the married couples quickly paired up. The Cakes, Lyra and Sweetie Drops, Braeburn and Troubleshoes, the Richs, Big Mac with Sugar Belle, Rainbow with Applejack, and Cadence with her husband Shining Armor. Those who were already dating paired up with the ones they were seeing: Sandbar with Yona, Ocellus with Smolder, Starlight and Trixie, Fancy and Fleur, and Gallus with Soarin.
However, it also didn’t take long for those who weren’t picked to object.
“Wait a minute!” Ms. Harshwhinny said after taking notice that she, Silverstream, Miss. Cheerliee, Twilight, Rarity, and Fluttershy were left. “What about us?”
Discord raised an eyebrow. “Alright I give, what about you?”
“Who are we supposed to pair up? Not everyone here is attracted to the same sex you know.”
“I don’t think you quite get what this exercise is about,” Discord pointed out, “this has nothing to do with your attraction, but how to date someone wisely. I’m not expecting any of you to fall in love with someone you just randomly met, but simply to understand how this works.”
“Well…” Silverstream looked at those who were left and went up to Fluttershy. “So, wanna be my partner for a while?”
Fluttershy looked up at Discord and for a split second, there was a flash of envy on his face. However, just as quickly, he took in a deep breath and nodded.
As to the remaining mares, Miss Cheerliee paired up with Rarity; and Twilight, much to Ms. Harshwhinny’s hesitation, chose the remaining partner to work with.
“Are we all paired up? Good.” Discord nodded as he floated over to the door. “Come along students, it is time for you to learn the Art of the Date.” Opening the door, he levitated himself in while the students, entering two by two, walked into a large courtyard. At a glance, it looked as if they all entered onto the set of a Kung Fu movie. A large, ancient school built somewhere in the jagged, snowy mountains that may be the Himallamas. It was a place of pointy red-tiled roofs, white walls, and decorated with shiny brass doors.
In the courtyard, as they crossed it to get to a pair of very large, imposing double doors where rows of Discords in white robes and black belts. Each of which was performing something that looked like a mix of martial arts, ballet, and pole dancing. They kept up with their practice until Discord floated past them, did they stop and bowed to him.
“What do you mean the ‘Art of the Date?’” Soarin inquired. “I thought that dating was just a glorified version of hanging out.”
“Too simple of a definition for the narrow-minded.” Discord replied, flying quickly over to the double doors and opening the heavy pair of enormous gates with a flick of a talon. As they followed Discord inside of this school within a school, the students beheld a chamber of Discords, each at a square table and in a wide range of costumes of both male and female – they trained together with the same intensity outside with plates, bowls, silverware, and cups. With every jerky movement they made, it was followed by a chorus of “Ha!” All around there were floating candles that dotted the ceiling like stars, while a couple of Discords were dueling with a pair of staffs, beating and flying across the air.
“Let’s be clear on something,” Discord said, “anyone else would talk about the physical stuff about how to date. From what kind of restaurant to take them out to, the endless rules in manors such as when to lift a fork to what to say after you stabbed someone in the back for overcharging you – these things are completely useless when it comes to what dating really is asking us to do.”
“You’re making it sound like it’s complicated,” Trixie said aloud. “I’ll have you know that my dates with Starlight have been nothing but superb.”
“I don’t know if best friends with benefits counts in this case – although we’ll get to that subject later – but,” he suddenly stopped and turned around to face them, “there is something that must be addressed. Why do we do this dating thing? I mean really think about this. Up until the Romantics came along, no one else in history had thought it necessary to clean ourselves up, take the one we had a crush on out somewhere to impress them. Before any of that, relationships were historically arranged, viewed carefully by a chaperone, and there was no touching allowed. So why do we go out on dates anyway?
“And before any of you say that this is natural,” Discord quickly added, “this whole dating thing isn’t universal. Even philosophers like La Rochefoucauld had pointed out: ‘There are those who would never have fallen in love if they never heard there was such a thing.’ A bit cruel, but it still bids the question of why do we do it at all?”
All the students looked at one another. Eventually, Yona came up with an answer. “To find… mate?”
“Close. But more specifically than that. Anyone else?”
“I got it,” Lyra said, “to see which one we can settle down with.”
“Very good,” Discord nodded, “you get a treat.” He snapped a talon were in the unicorn’s hoof was a gingerbread man. Lyra gave a funny look at the oddly shaped cookie. “Even if you deny it, going on a date requires all of us to do something both difficult and rather strange at the same time. So much so, that many get rather nervous because we’re performing for the hardest audition in the world – trying to figure out how they will be like as our spouse several decades from now. We’re trying to see if we can see if they’ll be with us when the news of cancer comes in decades from now, or when we can feel weepy when we’re afraid of losing a job with. And when we think they are worth it, try to convince said individual that we’re worth it too.”
“He’s right on the hard part,” Big Mac commented.
“But it’s worth it.” Sugar Belle pointed out, nuzzling him.
“Of course,” Discord added, “the trick is to know how to do it. Most think that it’s as easy as breathing where all one has to do is take them to expensive restaurants, show them your best table manners, and talk about the weather. Fortunately for this diverse cast, this is complete nonsense. The location or what you end up doing is not what sells a successful date – it’s the ability to connect that does. One might take their potential date to the most perfect place in the world, but unless you know what you’re doing and what to look for, it can end in disaster. However, I’m here to help.
“So, let's present all of you, an exercise.” With a sharp clap from his paw and claw, the room started to spin all around them. So fast was this, that the students were barely able to stand upright as they stood in the epicenter of a twister where everything became blurred. However, in this twisting, they can see that something was moving towards them in every direction but couldn’t make out what it was. A sharp clap again, and the room slowed down enough to show that they had been transported to a circular, candlelit room. All around them there were fifteen paper screen sliding doors.
Discord gave them a moment for Filthy Rich to lose his breakfast in a nearby Ming vase. “For this class project, with your partner, your task is to have a successful date with them. Behind these doors is the set up to your ideal setting of a date. However, if this is to go well, there must be some rules.
“Each of you has two priorities: the first is to show that you have a good relationship with yourself; the second is to see your partner with a balance of tenderness and being realistic about it.”
Silverstream raised her claw. “Mr. Discord, what does that mean?”
“To put it in plain Equestrian; with the first goal is to advertise something that the Romantics thought is deeply unromantic – but it helps. You see, most tend to think that the one they’re dating is something more than perfect than Gods. If anything, fun fact, it is during the Romantic period that the word ‘Angel’ was being used for the first time not to refer to those winged creature things in the sky nor a white rabbit, but to we have feelings towards. This thought has to be banished in order for your projects to go well.”
Braeburn raised a hoof. “So, why’s that?”
“Because thinking that you and the one you fell in love with are perfect beings, that leads to one of the great enemies of love – self-righteousness. With this belief, it is guaranteed that you will see this perfect being as deeply flawed the longer you stay with them. To counter this, everyone here must accept the idea that we are – and I don’t mean this as an insult – deeply crazy.” This got a laugh out of his class, “Oh you think I’m joking? I’m being serious here. As paradoxical as this sounds, if you want the start of a long-term relationship to go well, then you’ll have to show them upfront how flawed and insane we really are. The goal with this is to show that you can be both vulnerable but not to beat yourself up with it. In other words, to show your weaknesses being handled strongly. You will have to acknowledge and not be afraid to give your partner how you might drive them mad.
“At the same time, as your partner does the same thing, you’ll also need to express that you don’t see their flaws as deal-breakers. This requires sympathy and to be warm; if this is to work, then you’ll have to show that you’re not afraid of their emotional wounds.”
“My my…” Fleur rubbed the back of her head, “there’s a lot more to this then I thought.”
“It’s understandable. Part of the problem is that no one has told any of us that we lack self-knowledge. Such stuff is difficult to come by.”
“What does that mean?” Twilight interjected, “I know who I am.”
“But how would your behaviors cause difficulty to another creature? This is something you all will have to reflect on today. Because the problem is that we live in a world where there’s a culture of silence all around us. If anything, we live in a world where a stranger would know more about your flaws in about ten or so minutes than you would over a lifetime! I mean, your parents knew but weren’t going to tell because they just wanted to be sweet or blind to their affection. Your friends aren’t going to tell you because they just want a nice evening out with you paying the bill. Your Exes are experts, and maybe they have told what’s wrong with you, but they didn’t see it as worth their time as they just want to get as far away from you as possible and let some poor sucker deal with you next.
“However, not to worry.” Discord said. “I will pop in from time to time to give some pointers in what you’re doing. In the meantime,” Discord snapped his paw where each couple was given a small box, “I have written some discussion topics that should be the key in determining success or failure. Oh! And before I turn all of you lose, a friendly word of warning. If your partner keeps insisting that they’re perfect, or pretty easy to live with all the time – do yourselves a favor and run! Get your crap, get out the door! I don’t care how you do it, just get out of there as fast as you can. Because anyone who insists that they’re easy to live with hasn’t begun to know how much trouble they will cause you. Got it? Great! Now chose a door, let the dating being!”
Although uncertain what was about to happen, the paired-up couples approached the sliding doors without given a clue as to what might lay behind them. The first to open one of these was Mr. Cake who reached out with a hoof to slide the paper-thin screen aside. Both of them looked on, giving the kind of gasp that surprised them as if receiving a rare gift.
“Is this…?” Mrs. Cake looked about at the outdoor party of teenagers. Before them was a dance at night, complete with grape-lights that hung above, streamers of black and orange that crisscross, balloons with bats on them, carved pumpkins and hay barrels that lay in corners of the apple orchard, and faces of ponies that neither of them has seen in years. Most of them were in costumes, dancing to tunes of another time. And in the back was a large banner: “Happy Nightmare Night!”
“Hon,” Carrot Cake, also gawking looked over to his wife. “Isn’t this the High School dance?”
“Not just any dance.” Cup pointed out, “It’s our first date.”
“Go on you crazy kids,” Discord said, pushing the both of them in. As soon as they entered, suddenly they became younger and costumes on. Cup was instantly dressed up in blue as a Wendigo while Carrot had the dark cloak and false teeth of a vampire. “You have a good time now and remember to look through those chat-up lines!”
The other paired couples opened their doors, each was amazed at what lay behind it. For some, it was that expensive restaurant that they always wanted to go but never could. Others stepped back or forward in time, in different parts of the world, or in their own private Wonderlands. Many rushed into their ideal setting with their partner. However, Fluttershy before entering had glanced back at Discord. Although she didn’t say anything, her eyes were asking permission from him; to which he nodded before she entered in with Silverstream.
Discord waited a while before checking up on his students. He passed the time by solving the Petaminx puzzle – a nightmarish rubric’s circle – in reverse in about nine minutes. Then after flipping a marble to see which door to choose from at random, he entered into the first room. In particular – Fluttershy and Silverstream’s room.
Fluttershy never saw any festival like this. Although she had gone to many festivals before and have heard of a few from Silverstream of what happens on Mt. Aris, this was perhaps the most beautiful she’s seen. The setting was like something out of a painting. High up on the place of the mountain where they could see the sun setting over the sparkling sea, that they also saw plenty of glowing, floating lanterns in the thousands that rose higher into the sky. As if the Hippogriff villagers were releasing stars into the early night.
“Is this your fantasy?” Fluttershy asked. “If it is, this is really pretty.”
“That’s what’s happening?” Silverstream looked around, noticing they were underneath a shading tree. And below them was a blanket and a basket. “I… I think it is. I’ve always wanted to go on a date like this.”
“A picnic?”
“And during the Festival of Lights. Call me a romantic but this is the place I would take someone to… if I did have someone.”
“Still, this is very lovely.” Fluttershy then picked up the little box. “So… Should we get to it?”
“What’s in there anyway?”
Unlatching the box, Fluttershy opened it to where a flock of origami birds flew out, each chirping “Twit, twit!” as they flew around them for a moment before settling down to nest here and there. Some on the blanket while others in the branches of the tree. At first, the folded avian cards avoided them, even when they reached out for one.
That was until Fluttershy said, “Uh… excuse me, but would it be alright if can read off from one of you please?”
The origami birds considered this, even held a debate on what exactly to do (of course, it was unhelpful to know what was going on as all the birds could say was “Twit, twit!”) but finally, a bird volunteered to draw near. It got close enough for Fluttershy to unfold it and read what was on it.
“‘In what areas do you consider yourself crazy?’” She read before releasing the card where it folded itself back into a bird to fly off.
“Wait, I’m confused,” Silverstream tilted her head. “Are we talking about stuff that we’re crazy good at or just plain crazy?”
“The difficult route sometimes leads to the best results.” Discord suddenly said. Both Fluttershy and Silverstream jumped a little as they didn’t see the Draconequus looming overhead, sitting on a hot-air paper balloon of his face. “Believe it or not, talking about what’s going so well with you isn’t the most flattering thing in the world. No relationship in the world is built on accomplishments – not to mention that it’s unbelievably unhelpful.”
“What do you mean?” Silverstream inquired. “I thought the goal with this dating thing is to impress someone.”
“Unless you want to be a Mary Sue... No, it’s to suggest what kind of individual you might be later on down the road. That card is asking how you would prove difficult to someone else. And when it talks about crazy, it’s not just asking what mental illness you happen to have, rather what kind of stuff that another may find… disagreeable.”
“Oh! I think I get it,” Fluttershy said with a realization, “for example, I have this tendency to not to speak up on what’s on my mind for fear that I might hurt someone else’s feelings. Even if I think might help improve some things.”
“Huh,” Silverstream blinked, “and here I have the opposite problem that apparently I talk too much once I get going that I wouldn’t realize that the other guy wants to talk but wouldn’t let ‘em because I have so much I want to say and…” She trailed off, “I was doing it again, wasn’t I?”
“A little, but you realize what was happening.”
“That’s the thing, it’s hard to tell sometimes. Ya know? I could blabber on and on without recognizing that someone wants a turn to talk.”
“I usually encounter something like that with Pinkie. Don’t tell her this, but sometimes, I’m lucky to be able to get out an entire sentence to her before she talks over.”
Discord coughed loud enough to get their attention. “Not to interrupt, but there’s still an assignment to be done. Unless you have something else to that topic, I suggest moving on.”
“Huh, this one’s ironic.”
“What do ya mean?” Lyra asked.
The setting that she and her wife had stumbled onto was in a Prench café, complete with freshly baked croissants being eaten outside on a table facing the street, the Eiffoal tower within sight, and in the distance, someone playing some annoying accordion music. By now, the two of them had gone through a few cards in the box. Sweetie Drops was frowning at the prompt that was written on it.
“It says, ‘In what ways do you feel like an imposter at work?’ A bit on the nose there, right?”
“What, because of the spy thing?”
“To be honest,” Sweetie Drops put the card down, “I’m not sure what it’s asking as, once upon a time, being an imposter was part of the job, you know?”
“It helps to normalize an overlooked phenomenon.” Both mares turned to Discord’s voice who neither didn’t notice he was nearby. He was dressed in black, complete with a beret, a lazy eye, and reading the newspaper diagonally. They also noticed that sticking out of his mouth, he was smoking on a toothpick that was blowing out red liquorish bubbles. “Have you ever had that feeling as if no matter how hard you work or how big of a talent that others claim that you have, you don’t really believe it? It’s that feeling as if you can’t measure up to what’s expected professionally. That kind of feeling where you do all you can to hide that incompetence several feet underground and covered in concrete.”
“Yeah, I know that feeling,” Lyra commented, lighting up her horn to help to much on a croissant. “It’s kinda the reason that I didn’t become a teacher.”
Sweetie Drops blinked, “I didn’t know you wanted to be a teacher.”
“Professor actually. Back in college, I had this idea that maybe I should aim for a teaching job for the Equineities. That, and with all that other stuff like cryptozoology. But in the end, I didn’t feel like I was up for the task if the professors thought that I was too crazy to work there.” Lyra blinked, “Didn’t I tell you this before?”
“No, I don’t think you did. But I’m surprised really. I’ve always known you were a smart pony, but I didn’t know you wanted to teach.”
“Maybe it was because I was a little too embarrassed about it to tell you.”
Sweetie Drops paused, “How come you don’t you start teaching again?”
“Because I’m not that smart, or sane enough to do with. Ya know, on the whole human thing.”
“Now that’s not fair, of course you’re smart. And I don’t mind of your… side hobby. If anything, it makes what I used to do look normal.”
Lyra scoffed, “Tell that to the universities.” But almost within the same moment, her wife noticed that annoyed anger shifted to a soft melancholy. “And yet, they’re right about me.”
“You’re not an imposter.”
“But I know there are plenty more ponies out there that are a good deal intelligent than me. That, and there have been times that I let my obsession go a little too far. Even when I didn’t get the job, I had a feeling that they knew I was inadequate to be teaching.”
“Lyra you are-” Before Sweetie could let out another word, Discord’s talon was pressed over her lips, shushing her.
“Instead of trying to cheer her up,” he said, “try another more effective method.”
She pushed it away, “Yeah? And what’s that?”
“Reflect what she’s feeling back to her, it’s the key of being heard.”
“Well… what am I supposed to say?”
“You got any ways to relate to her?”
Thinking about this for a moment, she looked back to her wife. “This… is a little embarrassing to say this… I didn’t think I was that good of a spy.”
This got Lyra’s attention. “Were you?”
“Well… my superiors did, but I was… adequate at best. I can’t tell you how many times had gone wrong or that I forgot an important detail. So, you could only imagine the number of temper tantrums I had with myself over this or that.”
Lyra blinked, “Suddenly that explains a few things.”
“What?”
“That after something goes wrong you resort back to a five-year-old having a hissy fit – eh, no offense.”
Sweetie tried to come up with a reply to that but found that she didn’t. “Okay, you got me. I guess I have a bit of a temper when things go wrong. Doesn’t everyone?”
“Not that results in a karate kick through a wall.”
“… Point taken.”
Filthy drew a card from the box. “‘What have your Exes not understood about you?’”
Spoiled raised an eyebrow. “You’d think that would be obvious.” She remarked.
Both couples didn’t admit this to the other, but their “ideal” date was somewhere between cruel and fitting – if not hilarious on some cosmic level. The door they walked into was at a courthouse where a line of other disgruntled couples waited on a bench towards the divorce court. Luckily for Spoiled, this mini-universe had the courtesy of installing a smoothie dispensing machine with free cups and straws.
Spoiled sat next to Filthy with a cup of frosty mango and strawberry. “However, since we’re going to be stuck for a while.” She looked at her ticket that had the number 7,831. “It would give us something to do so better start answering them.” After taking a sip, she remarked. “You know… I haven’t given much thought of my exes in years.”
“Why? Were they any better than me?”
“Goddess no!” She scoffed. “They were a rainbow of a variety ranging from controlling to having personalities of wallpaper paste. I would say I would have been better off with them, but even I know that’s not true.”
“Really?” Filthy raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Irritated couple number 801!” Discord’s voice over the intercom called out, to which an elderly, scolding couple walked past them.
“They just don’t understand me. None of them do.”
“Starting with?”
“That I have high standards.” She said, taking a sip. “That I prefer to be with someone mature and have the means to maintain a lifestyle that I’m used to. To be acknowledged for my brains when I offer up useful ideas and be appreciated for all the hard work I put into.”
Filthy raised an eyebrow, “Why do I have a hard time believing any of that?”
“Because you prefer work over having an actual relationship.”
“As opposed to what? Bully your way into committees to get your way? To groom Diamond into a miserable, manipulative, bigoted, and damaged pony that shuts up, do as you tell her and will have to go to therapy for a good chunk of her life?”
Before Spoiled could make a reply. A sharp, loud whistle cut into the conversation. They looked up at Discord who was standing in front of them, wearing a black-and-white coach’s outfit blowing a silver whistle and holding up a yellow card to be thrown at Filthy’s face. “Unnecessary bickering. It has nothing to do with the topic of the card. Move back the waiting time to five spaces.” He pointed at their number on their ticket that increased from 7,831 to 7,836. “Save the fighting until tomorrow where it’ll be most appropriate. So, start again and keep on the topic this time.”
Discord suddenly disappeared, leaving the couple blinking at what just happened.
“Well I already had my say,” Spoiled said, folding her hooves. “What about you?”
At first, Filthy didn’t respond right away as he sat there, trying to think back to his dating years before he met Spoiled. “I don’t know what to say since I didn’t date much before I ran into you.”
This caught Spoiled off guard. “What? But you’re wealthy, I’d thought you had lines of mares waiting to date you.”
“Quite the opposite. Before you, the only date I had gone out with was back in High School and…” He trailed off, waving a hoof in the air as if to reach for a name, but none else came to mind. “Well, that’s pretty much it.”
“Who was it?”
“You know Photo Finish?”
“Naturally,” Spoiled laughed, “where else do you think I got my fashion sense from?”
“Did you know that she and I were in the same High School at one point?”
“You dated her?”
“Once… But it didn’t go anywhere as she was too… (How do I put this…?) Egotistic. She had an eye for looking good. No doubt about it. But for hours she talked nothing but herself and her ideas. Heck, I barely got a word out by the time it was over. Then after that, I had real trouble finding anyone that I could be with. Until I met you, I was more afraid of being alone.”
“Is that the real reason why you married me?”
“Honestly? I thought I couldn’t get anyone better.”
“Irritated couple number 802!” Discord’s voice over the intercom announced.
“My turn,” Gallus reached into the box and pulled out a card. “This should be an easy one. ‘What was difficult about your childhood?’”
While he was asking this, they were going up and down on a cloud fairs wheel. In their tiny universe, the setting was an amusement park in the sky. When they entered, it was already evening where the stars and full moon was out among the other lights that lit up the carnival. It was the kind where small but bright lights in every color were decorated every booth, every vendor, and every ride from the guy selling small doughnuts by the bucketful to the roller-coaster that was constructed out of clouds. Between the games and rides, Gallus and Soarin did try to read the cards before going do the next thing.
Soarin swallowed his mouthful of cotton candy. “Well… I don’t know if this counts since it happened when I was a teen.”
Gallus shrugged, “Guess it’s a start. What you got?”
“Well… my folks weren’t exactly the most accepting ponies in the world. Growing up they had high expectations of me that I would be this great stallion that would do something they deemed worthwhile. All that was tossed out of the hundred-floor window when I came out to them.”
“Yeah?” Gallus inquired, resting a claw on the handlebar. “What happened?”
“To make a long story short – they disowned me and kicked me out. If anything, it’s mainly why I joined the Wonderbolts. Because if you get in, they provide a roof over your head along with free Medicare. Still, for a long time, it was hard for me to accept myself for who I was because my family didn’t think I would be into guys.”
“I know that feeling.” Gallus frowned. “As someone who’s been in the closet for all of my life, it’s the loneliest feeling in the world. That you have a choice of being honest and be hated; or shut up and be tolerated.”
Soarin shook his head. “No one should live like that.”
“So…” Gallus pointed to the cloud of cotton candy, trying to change the subject, “You mind if I had some?”
He handed the candy over to him, and while his date started nibbling on it, Soarin said: “What about you? I mean, we all kinda saw bits of what your past was like. But is there something, in particular, that was really tough?”
Gallus thought about this for a moment. “I guess that until I came to the School of Friendship years ago, it would have to be the isolation. And I’m not talking about having anyone around. I mean the kind where despite being in a crowded place, there’s no one there to talk to. What could I do? My parents were dead, Grandpa Gruff was too busy to bother whatever problem of the day I happened to have, and you can forget about the whole coming out thing. Saying ‘Yeah, I’m into dudes’ in public was practically a death sentence. So being quiet about what I thought and felt was done, maybe, as a force of habit in the name of survival.”
“In a weird way, I kinda get it.”
“How?”
“Believe it or not, I was so careful not to reveal everything that none of the Wonderbolts had any idea that I was gay at all. You might notice that I don’t have any traits that would be a dead giveaway like having the accent or be into more effeminate stuff. Most ponies who met me for a good twenty minutes wouldn’t catch on. If anything, when I finally did come out, my teammates were really surprised as they thought I was the last pony in the world that swings that way.”
“Was it easy?”
Soarin snorted, “Tartarus no! I was so scared that my teammates would be just as intolerant as my family was that it took me years to say something. Maybe it’s because I had such a bad introduction to how others saw me that I carried it on after that. Even when it wasn’t true, I still believed it. It takes a long time and a good amount of patients to look in a mirror and not be disgusted with yourself.”
Gallus nodded, “Worst from others too, even when they’re nice.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because when you are so used to thinking that the world is cruel, the good ones that come along are just… weird. Truth be told… they are more terrifying because they threaten to be kind.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t get used to it.”
“It’s like trying to fly to the moon – next to impossible and always difficult on the first, second, and thousandth attempt. Sounds easy to say, but always difficult in practice.”
Starlight picked out the next card. “Ooh boy, this one is a dozy.”
“What?” Trixie asked.
“Trust me, you’re not going to like it. I hate just looking at it.”
“What?”
She signed and read, “‘What would you ideally want to say to your parents?’”
Trixie winced. Their fantasy date was made true when they walked through that sliding door. In a place that was a cross between an upscale restaurant and a theater. They remember seeing a place like this in a magazine that showed pictures of Las Pegasus before, only neither of them thought they would end up there. On the stage was a show going on where they were showing off an act that was between a magic show and acrobatic ribbons that dangled from the ceiling.
At the moment, however, neither paid much attention to the show or the small fountain on their table that flowed champagne. What had their full attention, however, was the uncomfortable question that was presented.
“Trixie doesn’t have much contact with parents. And prefers to keep it that way.”
“So, I take it what whatever it is, there’s nothing good to say.”
Trixie took a moment to fill her glass in the fountain before downing it. “Not that Trixie’s parents would want to listen anyway.”
This gave Starlight pause. “You know, I was able to tell my Dad that he needs to allow me to grow up. You clearly have something to say.”
Trixie raised an eyebrow, “And why would you?”
“Let’s see, I used to be the school’s counselor which means that being an impromptu therapist was part of my job. And that you are my marefriend.” When Trixie still wouldn’t reply, she added, “And unlike your parents, you have my full and undivided attention.”
For a moment, Trixie didn’t respond. By the look on her face, it was clear to Starlight that her marefriend wasn’t sure what to say. She watches her mouth opened and closed a few times as if trying to force out what she always wanted to say but struggled to forge the right words. A minute past, and another refill that she started to find what she wanted to say.
“If mother was around,” Trixie said in a low growl, “Trixie would tell her that she is free from her control. Trixie is independent now, and no longer her servant to be told what Trixie should or shouldn’t do. That Trixie is free to speak her mind without her believing Trixie is an idiot. Hopes she rots in Tartarus.”
“And your dad?”
She sniffed, “Trixie wants an explanation if he’s not too big of a coward to say it in her face.”
“That being…?”
“If he knew, even before she met mother that he was a gay stallion – why did he married her in the first place? Could have avoided the affairs, the divorce, or running off to be with… whatever his name was. Trixie wishes that at least he could answer that.”
Starlight breathed out a heavy sigh, “Wow Trixie… I had no idea.”
She waved a dismissive hoof. “What’s the next question?”
Fancy Pants adjusted his monical, “‘Agree or disagree: The most beautiful creatures who are surrounded by love are often those who are the loneliest.’”
Fleur frowned. In their little universe, they were in a perfect replica of a favorite memory of theirs. They were in the living room of Fancy’s home near a burning hearth. From the windows, a blizzard dusted Canterlot with thick snowflakes. Both of them lay next to one another on the carpet, with mugs of hot chocolate in their hooves, a blanket over the both of them, and the suggestion box in front of the couple.
“Fleur?”
She cleared her throat. “It’s sadly true.”
“What?” Fancy tilted his head, setting his hot chocolate aside. “How can that be? One would think it would be the opposite of you. The most beautiful mare in Canterlot, I would think you would have lines of potential suitors at your door.”
“But it’s not like that at all.” Fleur adjusted the blanket on her side. “Yes, I have the looks. At the same time, most ponies don’t know that being like this has a price.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Tell me, Fancy, before I became your bodyguard, did you have a crush on me right away?”
His cheeks turned pink in the light of the fire. “So, what if I did?”
“And why didn’t you tell me from the start?”
“Well… I thought that maybe you could be seeing someone else and-”
“Exactly.” Fleur nodded. “Turns out, it’s not just you. Everyone else has the same thought. Why do you think someone like Celestia hasn’t found a suiter yet – even when she’s no longer a Princess? Simple, she’s so beautiful, she’s intimidating without meaning to. And you know what?” she sighed, “For a long time, that was the case for me until you asked if I was free one day.”
Fancy nuzzled her chin. “Fleur… I had no idea.”
“It’s not your fault.” She patted his head. “Just you letting me know that I’m appreciated means the world to me.”
“To sound like an old Romantic; it’s because I have you near me, that now I have everything.”
“Alright, last one.” Braeburn pulled out the last card from the box while another firework went off over their heads, helping to illuminate what he was reading. “This looks like another fill in the blank.”
“What is it?” Troubleshoes inquired.
“It says: ‘The part Ah find revoltin’ about mahself is…’ blank.”
In the moonlight of the Appaloosan desert while the town shot off an impressive light show of sparkling firecrackers of reds, whites, golds, blues, purple, green, copper, and seizure worthy flashes in the sky. Braeburn could see his husband’s expression. “What kind of a card is that? Are these tryin’ ta be depressing?”
“Far from it,” the couple turned their attention to Discord who was laying on a lounge chair, suspended in the air by a few dozen balloons with sparklers on the ends. He had on a t-shirt with shooting red, white, and blue stars. In his paw, he was petting a hot dog in a bun, panting. “The sad truth is, when we have a crush on someone, we tend to think of them as Gods in a way. Perfect in form and being. The Romantics would tell us that this view will always remain, but over time, you’d start to notice the cracks and flaws. This is unhelpful when most of us are the masters of self-hatred. We know our worst sides of ourselves; or put it simply, the friend of my enemy is myself. What this is trying to do is to show the other that not liking a part of yourself is both understandable and normal. That as much as the other guy sees you as a God, this is a gentle way to remind them that you’re not.”
“So just say something we don’t like about ourselves?” Troubleshoes inquired.
“Pretty much, uh… hold on a second…” He got out a bazooka and, upon firing it into the air, the shell exploded an elaborate firecracker that showed the image of Discord, giving a thumbs up. “Now that’s out of the way,” he rolled over to the side, “care to share with the class?”
“Well…” Troubleshoes adverted his gaze from both the teacher and his husband. “Ah don’t see me as good lookin’.”
“Now what are ya talkin’ about?” Braeburn questioned. “Of course yer handsome.”
He frowned. “No Ah ain’t, and ya know it-”
“But-” Braeburn interjected but found his lips were zipped shut by Discord.
“Now now,” Discord waved a claw, “Didn’t your parents tell you that it’s not very nice to interrupt someone when they’re trying to talk?” He turned to Troubleshoes, “As you were saying?”
He looked between him and his muzzled husband, “So… he can’t talk back?”
“Not until you’re done.” He noticed Braeburn tried to pull the zipper off but he held his head still in place. “Hey cowpony, I think your husband wants to tell you something.”
At first, it looked like Troubleshoes wanted to say something but hesitated, as if he was trying to find the right thing to say. This went on for a few minutes until he looked at him in the eye.
“Braeburn, it’s… not easy fer me to say this but… On some small level… I kinda, sorta…” Discord raised an eyebrow, “Okay, fine, I envy you.”
The silent Braeburn tilted his head in confusion.
His husband continued, “I still don’t know how or why, but I’ve been able to marry the most well sculpted, fit, and heart-breaking beautiful stallion I’ve ever set eyes on. Maybe I don’t know how you see yourself, but you are like an ancient Pegasi statue come to life. Just… perfect. But I never saw that with myself. There’s not one thing about me that I could consider as handsome by any stretch of the imagination. And before you say otherwise, look at me. I mean, really look at me! I’m too tall, too clumsy, too big to fit through a front door. My mane is like straw that’s gone rotten, my face has started to have wrinkles, I’m gaining weight… I could go on, but I’ve never liked myself. All I could feel when I look in a mirror in disgust. How you were able to fall in love and marry this… thing is beyond me.”
Discord looked over to the silenced Braeburn, his expression from his eyes was showing shock. “You done?”
“I…” He nodded. “Yeah.”
“Your turn,” Discord unzipped his mouth.
“Holy…” Even free to speak, Braeburn was at loss for words. “Shoes… That’s what you really think about yourself?”
“It’s stupid, I know.” He folded his legs, still unable to look at him.
“Look, if it helps makin’ ya feel better,” Braeburn took in a deep breath, “Ah don’t like bein’ bad at anythin’ – even at listenin’.”
“What does that mean?”
“Well…” He sat on his haunches next to him, “Ah don’t like it when between doin’ all this stuff, doin’ a billion different things from help run a town, be on the Buckball team, teachin’ violin, harvestin’ apples, Ah could go on, that when Ah find that Ah’ve made a mistake somewhere – Ah uh… beat mahself up over it, without you knowin’ it.”
A tender look on Troubleshoes face appeared now he was able to look at him. “Why?”
“Because Ah’ve been raised to be the best at everythin’, and if Ah messed up, then it’s mah fault. Ah mean…” he smiled, “Ya can only imagine the temper tantrum Ah had with mahself when ya asked me out. Knowin’ that yer the same stallion Ah had wrongfully arrested that wasn’t yer fault.”
He felt Troubleshoes wrap a hoof around him, constricting it into a hug. “I guess both of us don’t like ourselves that much, huh?”
“Well…” Braeburn looked up, “Ah like you.”
Troubleshoes nuzzled him.
Soon, the class was drawn to a close, and Discord had led his students out of the multi-dimensional classroom and back into the school’s hallway. “Before all of you go,” he said, “I realized that I had forgotten to do something the other day that I promised. Fluttershy, Gallus, Silverstream, Soarin, Miss. Cheerliee, and Rarity, would you all come here for a sec?”
They made their way towards Discord until they stood in front of him.
“I’ve realized that I had promised you a prize for our game yesterday but none of you got it.”
“What’s the prize?” Miss Cheerliee inquired.
“Is it something really cool?” Silverstream jumped up and down excitedly.
“No,” Discord smiled as he reached into a pocket, “each of you gets a button.”
He pulled out a few pins in which he handed them out to each of them. It was a small button that had Discord’s smiling image, along with the words: “My Reality was Challenged by Discord, and All I Got was this Button.”
“Gee,” Gallus deadpanned, “Thanks.”
“Now class is dismissed, tomorrow we are going to dive into the unspoken challenges of marriage. Oh, and Fluttershy, would you mind sticking around for a bit?”
Although Fluttershy said she would, Smolder had a raised, suspicious eyebrow as the other students began to leave. She watched both professors entered back into the classroom in which she turned to her friends. “Wait a minute, let’s stick around for a bit.”
“Why?” Ocellus questioned. “Class is over.”
“But didn’t you notice that something was a little off from Discord, as in, more than usual?”
“What are ya talking about?” Sandbar asked.
“Discord hesitated when Professor Fluttershy was paired up with Silver here, did any of you notice that?”
“Actually…” Silverstream put a talon under her beak, “I didn’t think about but, yeah, I noticed that too.”
“Smolder think something happened with Discord and Fluttershy?” Yona inquired.
Smolder looked around the hall until she noticed Gallus had a soda in his claws. “Where did you get that?”
“From class, long story,” Gallus waved it off. “Why?”
“Let me see that.” She took hold of the paper cup and dumped it out of a window.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“About to get a clue as to what’s going on. Now everyone shut up for a minute.” Smolder returned to the classroom door, put the cup on it, and leaned over to the other end to listen.
“…. Happen?”
“I’m telling you Discord,” She heard Fluttershy say. “You have nothing to worry about.”
“Maybe, but when you paired up with Silverstream I almost…”
After a beat of silence, Fluttershy said comfortingly, “I had guessed you might be jealous again, but I’m proud of you for the restraint.”
“From where I saw it, to me it didn’t look like you two were…”
“No. She told me herself that if she were to find love, she preferred it to come from a male. I could tell she wasn’t into me, so you could rest your fears aside.”
Smolder heard Discord sigh, “It’s stupid to be so fearful over nothing.”
“But it’s understandable. Trust me, I haven’t changed my mind about you.”
“Even so, the next few days are going to be a doozy. Stuff on marriage, affairs, and when to get out a relationship…”
“Everything will be okay in the end.”
Smolder heard enough and pulled away.
“Well?” Ocellus leaned over to her marefriend, “What did you hear?”
“Something is going on alright.” She rubbed a talon under her chin, “And he’s nervous for the next few lessons too.”
“About what?” Yona asked.
“Marriage, affairs, and leaving a relationship. Why would he be nervous?”
Silverstream gasped, “You don’t suppose…” She looked around, “That maybe… Professor Fluttershy is punishing Discord.”
“For what?” Sandbar asked.
“What if he was caught having an affair? What if Fluttershy and he were dating when she caught him cheating, and as punishment, she’s making him do this class?”
The other students went quiet.
“Oh c’mon,” Gallus smirked, shaking his head, “There’s no way that’s the case… right?”
Lesson 4 - Challenges of Marriage: The Horror of Foals
None of the students didn’t bother to go inside the school the next morning, due to the small striped tent set outside of it. A red and white Cheshire tent, the kind one would see to get changed into a bathing suit on the beach rested near the school’s moat. But that’s not what got their attention, however.
There was also a small wooden stage that leads up to the tent, as if the Flim Flam Brothers had rolled into town again, ready to set up shop once again. Yet, much to Twilight’s relief, neither brother was in sight. The class, as they drew near the tent, couldn’t help but notice a smell of popcorn, roasted peanuts, sawdust, hay; along with the distant sound of an organ grinder playing a waltz.
Yet, even this was not what got their attention either.
What did, was the sign that was above one of the double entrances of this microscopic tent. On the back on a piece of plywood written in quickly painted lettering in red was the word “Exit.” And in front, done up all in bulbs of lights and Discord’s face grinning at them were the words: “Carnival of Migraine Marriage.” With the word “Migraine” being scratched out by red paint.
“So on a level between enchanted and possible death trap,” Smolder asked to the rest of the students, “how concern should we be?”
“I didn’t know the circus was in town,” Silverstream said, her wings buzzing with excitement.
“With a stage and tent this small?” Gallus questioned.
Silverstream thought about this for a moment, “Maybe the Flea Circus is in town?”
“Truth be told that was my second idea.” Discord said, suddenly being next to them and making them jump a good several feet, screaming. “It was either the funhouse or the Flees, but I figured this one was a little more entertaining.”
“Do you EVER stop doing that!?” Gallus barked, holding a claw to his beating chest from the adrenalin rush.
“It’s a simple gag but effective.” Fluttering his wings, he made a striped red and white shirt, a straw hat, and a bamboo cane fall from the sky and into his arms. “Now if you all give me a moment…” He put on the shirt, hat and waved the cane about before floating up to the platform. Clearing his throat, he called out in a manner of a carnival carny.
“Step right up! Today’s lesson is one rollercoaster of a ride folks! Come closer as we walk through this nightmarish marvel of a modern creation where the Romantics put all their chips on. Yes, Mares and Gentlecolts! Today we’re gonna tackle on that silently tricky issue of… Marriage!” He waved his cane over to the small dressing tent.
“Yes folks! This here is a fun representation of the greatest value of modern society that has gone off the rails! Pair up with a partner and both of you will see why this simply deceptive place is so easy to get into and difficult to get out of! Inside this tiny marvel is a carnival of Matrimony where you will encounter…”
With a wave of his cane, a poster floated in the air. The first was a wheel where ponies and creatures tumbled on its spokes, hanging for dear life as it turned. “The Wheel of Relationships! With this you will come across the wide verities of relationships that some of you probably didn’t think were possible!”
Then the poster disappeared into a puff of smoke and was replaced with rows of ugly looking couples bickering. “The Matrimony Freak Show! In this, you will see the dark side of marriage that the Romantics don’t want you to see! Then next we have in here is…”
The poster went up in flames and was replaced by a maze pattern with lost couples trying to find their way. “The Nuptial Labyrinth! Do you have what it takes to make it through the most common challenges that any couple faces? Or… for that matter…”
Another wave of his cane and the poster rotted away to reveal another poster, this time showing two, very tired looking parents rocking a cradle with a screaming infant therein. “The Horror of Foals? This is an extra challenge for those who have or planning to have foals. This haunted house has all the scares that would make even Rousseau, the philosopher who thought that all kids were angles – faint. Or perhaps, you would like to see…”
The poster exploded in sparkles to show Discord in a starry turban, a ring in his ear with a crystal ball where inside it showed an arguing couple. “Madame Misunderstand! Ever want to know what the living buck your spouse or special somecreature was trying to say when you argue? Well, this is where you’ll find the answers! Oh, and speaking of arguments…”
All of a sudden, the poster was hit with hundreds of paintballs that splattered and morphed into a colorful image of a fighting couple, screaming over one another with paintball guns in their hooves – aimed at each other. “Try your luck with your partner at: The Battle of the Augment! This takes a closer look into the heart of all fights, scolds, and sulks. So, step right up! The carnival waits for the pair of you!”
Discord floated over to the small tent and pulled on a flap, “Just remember, the only admission to enter and exit, is by twos. So, you all will have to pair up again if you want to get through with this.”
The students looked at one another. Miss Harshwhinny stepped up, “So… What’s the catch? If this is a carnival-themed, then I should know from past experience that there’s always a catch to these sorts of things.”
“And you’d be right!” Discord nodded, still grinning, “If you want to get in and out of this lesson in one piece, everyone here must all hope abandon, ye who enter here.”
“What?” Fancy questioned, “Why in the world would we enter into what might obviously be a trap if we give up hope? How else are we to get through it?”
“I think I know why.” Starlight said. “What Discord is saying that hope should be lower as to lower any expectations we have for marriage. That way, we wouldn’t be disappointed when something unexpected and unpleasant happens.”
“Nice nod to continuity there,” Discord said in an approving tone. “So, come right in folks! Leave all hope behind!”
Soarin flew up to where everyone could see him. “Hang on! I’m not going in there until you answer one question.”
Discord raised an eyebrow while casting his cane over like a fishing rod over to the pond. “Yeah? What’s that?”
“Why should we bother with marriage?” This received several looks from the other students – especially the ones who were already married. “I mean, it’s just something that has been bothering me is all. Why undergo all the rituals and sign legal work that is easy to get into but next to impossible to get out of? Couldn’t you just move in with someone and call it quits?”
“Ah! Great question! And perhaps it would also give a disclaimer while I’m at it.” Discord felt a tug on his cane in which he pulled out a thin, noodle-like dragon in a kimono out from the pond before setting it free. “Well, once upon a time, those who got married were told to do so because a deity would get lightning-trigger happy if they didn’t. Yet, even when this idea has decayed, society and culture have made it difficult to separate for a very good reason. It was meant to be a defense mechanism against impatient impulse.”
“What do you mean?” Soarin questioned. This was answered when Discord made a delectable, steaming apple pie appear – hovering just in front of him.
“See this pie?” Discord asked, “How about I make you a deal? If you could manage to withhold the temptation of eating this for the next… oh… twenty minutes, you’ll get a second pie.”
“Twenty minutes!?” Soarin objected, looking heartbreakingly between the most deliciously perfect pastry he’s ever seen and Discord. “That’s not fair!”
“But if you’re able to wait, you’ll get two. Don’t even so much as lick the thing.” Discord pulled out a timer and pushed one of its red buttons to make it tick. “Your time starts now.”
So, all students watched as Soarin struggled not to eat this heavenly pie in his hooves. At two minutes, Soarin kept licking his lips. At five minutes, the class could swear that they were hearing a choir of angels, encouraging the tempted Pegasus to eat the divine pastry. Then just after seven, he couldn’t take it anymore and delve his head into the richly sweet creation.
“And… you lose.” Discord pressed the button on the timer. “Gallus, I’d take notice of his behavior if I were you.”
Within seconds, Soarin wolfed the pie down, even licking the tin that it came in. “Is there anymore?”
“Sorry, you couldn’t wait. And because of that, no second helpings for you.”
“C’mon! That was the best thing I’ve ever tasted!”
“Yet, without any impulse control, you will never have another. But I can see why. I made it too easy for you to be tempted. It’s the same reason why we have marriage. In marriage, one often feels very on edge within the first few years. That we find our spouse unsatisfying, that we’re angry and wanting to get out. Or maybe we’ve spotted someone that, on paper, would be better for us so there’s the urge to abandon our spouse immediately. Yet, the moment we have those impulses, we find the exits are bricked up so you can’t leave right away. After all, it would be too expensive, too embarrassing, and it would take forever to do.”
“Amen to that.” Filthy Rich deadpanned.
“All of this isn’t an accident. Every society has recognized that marriage is a failsafe of impulse. It’s to keep those wild, trigger-happy, greedy desires in check. What a couple is doing by agreeing to get married, is that as individuals we tend to make very poor choices under short-term thinking. Yes, you’re technically right Soarin, to imply that marriage is a golden cage – but it is one that we willingly lock ourselves in because we don’t trust ourselves entirely. There are parts of oneself that cannot be developed unless one is willing to be restricted.
“However, at the same time, what this lesson aims to achieve, it’s best to find the devil in the details. Think of this as giving some of you a heads up what to expect in marriage. By looking at the fine print as it were to see what the hidden costs are. This isn’t to discredit marriage – but to hold a magnifying glass up to the tiny, nearly unreadable print of the nuptial contract.”
Once again, the students paired up with the same individuals as yesterday. Then two by two, they entered through the microscopic tent. When they entered through the flaps, many were surprised (and at the same time not) to see that inside an impossibly long hallway made of the striped fabric. As they walked down, they passed the posters that Discord shown earlier of those macabre but colorful scenes of each lesson that promised of what’s to come. Then, near the end of the hall was a door and above it, an animatronic device that looked down.
It looked like Mayor Mare that held an open book. Welded together with metal, bolted loosely with a lower jaw, twitched with a pair of glass eyes, the thing looked down to a steel platform were on each side was a sigh to “Stand here.” What made this thing unnerving to even look at was the fact that only the upper half of the robot was visible, where the lower was missing. Sowing sparking wires and tubes hanging out from it.
“Well that’s new,” Ms. Harshwhinny looked behind her, “So who wants to step on the painfully obvious deathtrap first?”
Unfortunately for Big Macintosh and his wife, they happened to be the first in line. Letting out a frustrated sigh, Big Mac stepped on to one of the platforms. Only… nothing happened except that the platform decompressed into the ground. “Ah reckon that it needs two ta work.”
Sugar Belle cautiously stepped on the other. This time the animatronic overhead was suddenly turned on as there was an underwater recording of the wedding march playing. The machine lifted itself upright, jerked as it raised the book to look at it before reading aloud in a robotic, glitchy, stuttering voice that resembles the Mayors'. “D-D-Dearly beloved. We are gath-h-h-her here today for the joining of these two to become o-o-o-o-one.” She waved a hoof over to Big Mac, “D-D-D-D-D-D-D-D-D-Do you take this to-o be your spouse?”
Mac blinked, “Uh… sure?”
The animatronic turned to Sugar Bell and stuttered to ask her the same question.
“Yes?” Sugar replied, just as confused as her husband.
The machine bolted upright. “B-B-By the power invested i-i-i-i-in me, I declare you ready to enter th-th-th-th-the Carnival of Marriage.” With that, the double doors entered to where both Big Mac and his wife could enter through. Then just as soon as they walked into the carnival that the doors closed behind them.
Each couple repeated this pattern to step on the platforms to trigger the stuttering animatronic, say their “I dos,” and they entered through the doors. Soon, all fifteen couples were inside a place that resembled a hodge-podge of state fair, indoor carnival, and funhouse. They were still inside the red and white strip tent, only it has become as big as a massive as a palace – a proper circus tent. All around there were booths and carnival games that upon a closer look, had the visuals of combining the décor of Hearts and Hooves were paired up with the dark sense of humor of Nightmare Night. (One such example was a game of darts where the on each pink balloon, there was a deranged, shouty expression of a mare or stallion face with a red heart behind them. That booth was called “Pop the Scolder.”) At the same time, near the edges of the tent, was a structure that seemed to encompass the walls of the tent as it showed a maze seemingly made out of glass.
It was quickly noted too, that behind each of these booths as far as they could see was a copy of Discord, wearing the same striped shirt and straw hat, waiting for them.
“So…” Lyra was the first of the class to speak up. “Now what?”
To this, Rainbow Dash flew up in order to get a good view of the carnival from the air. “It doesn’t look that big… There’s a bunch of stuff everywhere though. I see a haunted house… a place for paintball… some tents… a weird-looking ride…”
“Ya see an exit anywhere?” Applejack asked.
“Uh… Yeah! There’s a sign, only it’s… oh crap.”
“What?”
“See these glass walls? This is the maze Discord was talking about. And apparently the only way out, is through there.”
“Ya know,” Braeburn said, looking about, “it probably wouldn’t hurt ta at least give this place a look around.”
“I call dibs on the haunted house!” Smolder called out, taking Ocellus by the hoof to lead her into the carnival.
The other couples looked at one another until they turned to their Princess for guidance. “Okay,” Twilight sighed, “I think it’s clear that Discord wants us to explore this place until we started heading for the exit. If any of you run into Smolder and Ocellus, tell them that we will all meet together near the maze. No one is going to leave until all of us are in one place. In the meantime, let’s form into groups.”
It was agreed upon, and with that, the class separated into groups to explore Discord’s carnival.
Neither Ocellus nor Smolder didn’t know what to expect. Knowing Discord, one would think that a being who can manipulate reality on a whim that, upon creating a haunted house attraction, would be more… intimidating to so much as look at. The very idea of a being like him creating such an attraction out of his unpredictable imagination would craft the most terrifying place in the world.
“Is it me,” Ocellus pointed at the attraction, “or does the façade look rather… cheesy.”
“Yeah, I see it too.” Smolder nodded.
Before them was a large, rectangular box painted black that had two entrances – one to go in, the other to get out – and above it was the sign that was called “Horror of Children.” Within the slim green letters were plastic mannequins of foals ranging from crying infants to punk teenagers. If anything, the effect just by looking at it was rather cheap looking.
“Ya know,” Ocellus said aloud what she was thinking, “created by the Ex-God of Chaos, I half expected it to be more… elaborate.”
Smolder shrugged, “Who knows? Maybe it’s bigger and scarier on the inside. I mean, that seems to be the theme of this place.”
“Don’t you think we should get someone else to come with us? I mean, not that I don’t trust Discord…”
“Hey! Wait!” The two of them looked behind to see the Cakes along with Cadence and Shining coming up to them. Mr. Cake was the first to approach them. “Don’t go in yet until we’re all together.”
“Why?” Smolder inquired.
“Twilight decided it’s best we go about this place in groups,” Cadence answered. “For safety reasons.”
Both Changeling and Dragoness raised an eyebrow, looking between them and the Haunted attraction. “You sure?” Ocellus questioned. “It doesn’t look dangerous.”
“This is just in case.” Shining insisted. “Besides, in a place where Discord in control, best to stick together to prevent anyone from getting lost.”
“Fine by me,” Smolder shrugged. “So, wanna check this place out?”
“Dear,” Mrs. Cake spoke up, turning to her husband, “didn’t Discord say that this was part of his overall lesson about marriage?”
“Yeah… But why Children? And why would they be horrifying?”
“I kinda have to agree,” Shining nodded, “compared to Flurry Heart, I’d bet this place would be underwhelming.”
This got several raised eyebrows.
“He means when she was an infant,” Cadence clarified, “seriously, you don’t wanna know what it was like to change her diaper.”
“I had to change them with my mouth,” Mr. Cake pointed out before shuttering, “I know what true horror looks like.”
“Anyway!” Smolder pointed to the entrance. “Are we gonna stand here and talk about crap all day or go into the cheesy haunted box?”
The other two couples nodded. “Just remember to stick together,” Shining said.
So the three couples entered through the opening where they pushed aside the black, shredded curtain. Inside of the haunted attraction was as cheesy as the outside. Lit only in black lighting, it was full of purple skeletons, rubber bats on strings, wooden spiders, a fog machine, and a mask of a mare with a long nose that had a wort on the end of it.
“Really Discord?” Smolder asked aloud, pushing a rubber bat to the side. “Is this really the best you got?” No sooner had she asked this that a doll popped out from the darkness, laughing. Even still, the Dragoness frowned. “C’mon! This is supposed to be a haunted attraction! You’ll have to do better than that!”
“Smolder,” Ocellus said, holding onto her marefriend’s arm, “Do you really want to provoke him in a place like this?”
“All I’m saying is that he should really step up his game.”
Pushing aside a black curtain, there was nothing there except a large mirror and the exit. Smolder, quite annoyed by the anticlimactic ending to an attraction, folded her arms as the other couples came in. “You really think any of this is scary, Discord?” She asked aloud. “C’mon! I wanna see something scary.”
A pair of glowing eyes – recognizably Discord’s – appeared in the mirror. The couples looked behind them to see nothing there before looking back at the eyes.
“Hey Smolder,” Discord, in a whispery tone said coming from the mirror. “Wanna see something really scary?”
Suddenly, Shining Armor jumped up in front, his horn glowing brightly, “Get behind me!”
The eyes in the mirror closed, and what followed was that the entire mirror suddenly and unexpectedly was showing static. All around, there were glitchy sounds of voices of those they’ve heard before.
“I-I almost…” a mare’s voice was heard as the mirror started to clear up to show shadows of four creatures that were still blurry.
“Is this the right spell for it?” a Stallion’s voice asked.
“I really hope so.” Said another mare’s voice. “Because I really have so many bones to pick with.”
“Wait, here…” A third mare’s voice said a silhouette approached the mirror, seemingly getting bigger to reach something off from the side. “Oh! I see the problem. Let me just…”
Now it suddenly became clear to the three couples what they were looking at. This wasn’t a mirror at all – it was a screen that projected three very familiar-looking ponies and a lemonade yellow Changeling who stepped back.
“Yeah, I think we got it.” The Changeling on the screen said, “Only… Hey, why do Mom and Mother look really young?”
One of the mares approached the screen, and to the bewilderment of Cadence and Shining – it looked like their daughter. Only, this one was a full-grown adult! Flurry looked over the Changeling’s shoulder. “Yeah, you’re not alone… Mom and Dad look a whole like what they did when they were younger… Oh crap. I think we’re talking to their past selves.”
“I don’t care about that!” The adult Pumpkin Cake said, “We’re going to have this intervention, and we’re going to do it now!”
“A-An intervention?” Ocellus stepped back in shock. “What’s going on?”
“Before we say anything,” the Changeling on the screen said, turning to Smolder, “Are you two dating?” She nodded. “How long?”
“Not too long ago.” Smolder raised an eyebrow. “Why? Who are you?”
An adult Pound Cake came into view. “Guys! This is our chance! Maybe if we talk to our parents in the past, they could change here in the present.”
The Changeling nodded and turned to Smolder and Ocellus, “I assume you can already guess who these three are.” She waved over to the other three ponies. “But neither of you have met me yet… Because in your time, I wasn’t hatched yet.”
“What?” Ocellus blinked. “You mean… You’re from the future.”
Nodding, the Changing waved, “Hi Mother… Hey Mom.” Both Smolder and Ocellus’s jaws hit the floor. “My name is Tibia. I’m your daughter from… well…” Tibia thought for a moment. “I wanna say… About thirty or forty or so years from now? I'm not that good with math, sorry.” She frowned. “Still, we need to talk.”
“It’s kinda important.” Flurry said.
“From all of us.” Pumpkin added.
“Oh absolutely,” Mrs. Cake approached the screen. “What’s wrong?”
The future children all turned to Pound Cake, who sighed, “Before we say anything… Just so you know, we do in fact love you guys. However, there’s something that all of us wanted to say for a long, long time that we were afraid to say back when we were foals.”
“All of you?” Cadence inquired, and they nodded. “Well… Okay. What is it?”
“YOU ALL SUCK!” The four of them screamed. This was such an unexpected reaction that all three couples tumbled backward on the black painted floor.
Tibia breathed deeply, “Again, as much as I love my Moms… there are still a few things that drive me up the wall. Literally on some days.”
“We can say the same.” Pound and Pumpkin deadpanned.
“Double for me.” Flurry folded her arms.
Cadence got up, “Flurry, I don’t understand. Why are you angry at us?”
“Goddess, where do we start?” Pound Cake asked, but after taking in a deep, calming breath, he said. “Look… Mom, Dad… I’m just going to go ahead and give you the benefit of the doubt to say that maybe you didn’t know you were doing a few things that were driving us up the wall. That some of us were too scared to mention anything in fear that you might love us less. But now that we’re adults and gone through years of therapy, maybe… We can finally tell you all what you have been doing to us… or about to.”
“To start with,” Flurry put a hoof on the glass, “you might have heard this before, but it should be said again here – none of us asked to be born.”
“Flurry-” Cadence began to say, her eyes started to fill with tears, but her daughter interrupted.
“Let me finish. I mean, all of us were enjoying our existence in a warm darkness floating about. Just minding our business really. Then suddenly, we were catapulted headfirst into a world of endless tests at school, heart-stabbing rejection from those we trusted, compromising our happiness just so to keep you happy, and to be splatted against a world of pain. So, in a way, just letting us be born at all is – by all accounts – your fault.”
“Hey! That’s not fair!” Mr. Cake stepped up. “We didn’t create this world; it came like this when we got here. You didn’t think we didn’t try to keep you all safe?”
“That’s another thing,” Pound Cake said, pointing out, “As much as you want to try to protect us from all the bad, painful stuff out there – even then, as kids, if you want us to grow and gain experience in how to combat it, is that we have to face those painful things. Eventually, we’ll have to face them. As much as you want us to be mature by going around the more trickery things in life, we won’t learn if we don’t experience them. I mean, the fact that neither of you showed us how to pay taxes until we were in our thirties… I’m more upset that you didn’t sit us down to show how this painful experience is shown.”
“Pound, don’t be so harsh.” Mrs. Cake spoke up. “You’re our foals after all.”
“Mom, I get it,” Pumpkin replied. “However, that does bring up something that most of you have overlooked.”
“What are you talking about?” Shining asked.
“You all kept forgetting how fast we grow up. That helpless two-month-old infant we once were – I’m sorry to break this to all of you – is not who we are. That was just a version you all found easy to admire. Which, if you really thought about it, is such a huge insult to us as we do and will want to grow and evolve.”
“Not to mention that we’ll grow up into ponies that you would never predict that they will become one day.” Pound nodded and sighed, “Still… don’t hold that against us. I’d bet that maybe, all of you were in their horseshoes once.”
“Well, so what?” Smolder questioned with a dismissive tone. “All I’ve been hearing is just a bunch of whining.”
“NO! NO! NO!” Tibia snapped at her. “That, right there, is something you NEVER got when I was growing up.”
“Tiby, breathe,” Flurry put a hoof on her back, trying to instruct the Changeling to take some deep breaths. “We’re not here to scream at them – we’re here to firmly state what’s been on our mind.”
“Yeah?” Tibia turned to her, “And how do you know she’ll actually listen for once? This is my Mom we’re talking about! Even if I did have a good reason to raise a complaint to her, even if I worded it perfectly, she’ll still hear – as Shakespur puts it – ‘A tale told by an idiot full of sound and fury signifying… nothing.’”
“She will,” Ocellus said, turning to Smolder, “and she better not interrupt.”
In a silent, scolding second, Smolder stomped her foot but approached the screen. “Okay… what do you want to say to me, really?”
After taking in another deep breath to collect herself, Tibia told her. “Here’s the thing with foals I doubt you ever understood. And this, by-the-way, is a psychological fact: the more you love your children, to make them feel safe that they can talk to you about anything… the more we will use you as an emotional punching bag. You might think this is an attack on you – it’s not. One would have to feel pretty secure with someone to so much as raising a complaint to you. If they ever did – consider it as a badge of honor.”
“You’re making it sound like I don’t.”
Her eyes narrowed as her eyes held back the tears. “You know… up until now… I was afraid to say anything to you. Because I’ve it all the reasons why you would block your ears: that how life is so hard; that how hard work was; that you were so tired all the time that you didn’t want to hear anything that would disrupt your relaxation. You may think that just banishing anything that didn’t equal calm and happy from home would make it better – it never did. That never giving any consideration that maybe… I have an opinion… Hurts me. That I want to be heard by you and never got it… At least Mother here, I could open up somewhat but you… You don’t want a daughter, just a golden child who’ll never complain, never get angry, never so much as to say ‘I think I’m depressed.’ Well Mom, just because your life is just oh so damn hard, doesn’t mean that you could convince me that all I’m good for isn’t to be a living being, but a machine that works for your convivence.”
Smolder didn’t say anything, her wide eyes said it all.
Tibia shut her eyes, her voice became hoarse as she said, “I need a minute…” and walked off-screen.
“Why are you all angry at us?” Shining questioned. “Over here, you’re still little kids.”
Flurry shut her eyes, took in a deep breath, and breathed out looking directly at her father. “We don’t hate any of you if that’s what you’re asking. But why we’re so angry, is because… well… we realized too late that we’ve overestimated you.”
“What does that mean?”
“Think about it. Once upon a time, we were but small, practically helpless (in some cases) things that relied on all of you to… well… not die. Growing up, we looked up to you for being these uniquely supernatural giants that have this enormous power to make it all better or worst. You were skilled at stuff that amazed us. You seemed to know all the mysteries of the world that we didn’t understand. None of us expected that the longer we did grow up, the more we realize how… imperfect you all really were. Your interests annoyed us, your taste in music embarrassed us beyond description, your fears were excessive, your rules seemed to obey habit rather than reason. We grew frustrated because we realized our parents were, to some degree, crazy. Then we also realized that it’s not just us, but so were your parents, and theirs before them, and before them, and so on.”
“But we did try to read up on how to be good parents.” Mr. Cake objected. “I mean, before we had you, and when we wanted foals, we read up all we could, and those foal psychology books basically said to be nice to your children and all will be well. I thought that’s all we’ve been doing.”
“Turns out, it was misleading.” Pumpkin told her father. “Dad, however much you tried to be nice to us, eventually you and mom will want to put an end to whatever stuff that we see as fun. It will start with banning books, magazines, and even too many sweets – then it goes on from there. The truth is, the more you love us, the more you want to act on our long-term interests, safety, and health – the more we’re going to hate you for doing so. What you might see as the greater good, to us we will see it as tyranny that there’s nothing we could do about it.”
“While we’re on the subject,” Flurry said. “Since I’m less than… what? Ten, twelve years old where you two are at, here’s a heads up so neither of you will be shocked when it happens. And this doesn’t just apply to me as a princess, but to all of us too. No matter how much insight that you want to pass on to us in whatever subject – finances, love, running a government, making difficult decisions, or whatever – we will, as living beings, be committed to reexplore every dumb area in life. I know you want to pass on some of your wisdom, but we are, and will, make huge mistakes of our own. So, don’t be too surprised if we ended up doing something that’s incredibly stupid. You can’t spare us time.” She looked over at the twins, “Anything else?”
“Now that you’ve mentioned it,” Pound nodded. “Speaking of giving a head-up so neither of you will be shocked when it happens – as your children, we will eventually want to separate from you.”
“Separate?” Mrs. Cake blinked.
“As in wanting to move out and be our own individuals. I mean, it’s practically a biological law that almost always catches parents off guard when it happens during adolescence. So all those attempts to try to shock you into kicking us out of the house – we’re trying to give you a hint.”
Flurry looked off to the side, “Hey Tibia, you okay?”
“Yeah…” there was sniffing sound that was heard. “I want to say one more thing.” She walked back on screen; the tears now dried. “This one goes to Mother… Ocellus.”
“What?” Ocellus asked, taken aback, “What did I do?”
Tibia took in a deep breath. “Mother, look… I know in your time you were considered as a genius. There’s no question about it. Your knowledge and your eventual teaching position at the School of Friendship is practically famous to Changelings everywhere. But… Despite all the love you’ve given me, the early lessons, the summer camps, you thought that maybe with just enough, I might turn into a version of Moztrot or Shakespur. Only you never are taken into account that maybe, I would end up as mediocre. Don’t get me wrong, there are ingenious kids out there, but in reality, they are the exception than the norm. No one is born a genius. I mean, what we really are, is just very average creatures who’ll have demanded way, way, above and beyond average levels of commitments from all of you to get us through adulthood.”
Now that all of their complaints were heard, the future children looked at the past parents who had a look of shame on their faces. Some of them were on the edge of tears.
“If there’s one good thing to take from all of this,” Flurry said, “is that as much as we love you if we really did admire you in every way – none of us would have the drive to grow up. For better or worse, we did. Eventually, we did have to find ourselves, develop skills, work at jobs and, for some of us, fall in love to become parents ourselves. Regardless much we see you as mediocre, there is still something about all of you that remains supernatural to us.”
The screen then flickered until all four dissolved into static and being replaced with a single word in red:
Boo!
Too struck by this revelation, all three couples left the haunted attraction.
Lesson 4 - Challenges of Marriage: Madame Misunderstand
It was certainly eye-catching, that behind the food court of burnt dinners, smoked lunches and weeping breakfasts was a good size purple tent that had a levitating crystal ball with a pair of Discord’s hands at the very top. Right underneath it was a sign that welcomed visitors that were written in gold, curvy letters: Madame Misunderstand.
“What this place?” Yona inquired.
“From the looks of it,” Twilight said, “I’d say Discord is going for the fortune-telling theme with this.”
“Ah’ve seen somethin’ like this once.” Braeburn commented, “Even went inside ta see what would happen. The lady there did tell mah fortune, sayin’ that Ah’ll be loosin’ a lot of bits in one day.”
“Really?” Ms. Harshwhinny raised an eyebrow, “What happened?”
“Every five minutes, she kept sayin’, ‘That’ll be twenty bits please.’”
“Discord did say that this was part of the lesson, right?” Sandbar asked.
“He did,” Troubleshoes nodded. “Somethin’ about seein’ what yer spouse really is sayin’. Ah think.” He frowned, “Ah’m goin’ in.”
“What?” Braeburn went in front of his husband, “What for? Ah thought we’d speak all the time.”
“You do.” He said, walking around him.
“What’s got inta you?”
“Nothin’,” he replied before walking into the tent.
Braeburn stomped a hoof and shook his head, snorting out of frustration.
“Does that happen a lot?” Yona asked.
“More recently…” Braeburn replied before walking into the tent with the other couples following after.
Inside the purple tent was a dark area where the only light within the space was coming from a glowing crystal ball on a small rounded table. In the light of the glowing orb, Troubleshose had already sat down on one of the six large white velvet pillows that had embroiled stars sewn on all of them. Following Trouble’s example, the other couples sat down around the table. Braeburn sat next to his husband, neither of them said a word.
As soon as everyone sat down, suddenly there was a mushroom cloud of smoke from a fog machine, sparklers, and Discord in drag that rose from the floor. It was something between hilarious and horrifying to look at the same time. He had on a long, black, curly wig; complete with red lipstick and pink rouge on his cheeks. There were golden crescent rings in his ears. And the dress resembled a drunken gypsy.
“Welcome you confusing, confounding creatures,” Discord greeted them in a voice that was high in pitch yet gravel sounding enough to make it sound like he smoked a whole field of poison joke. “Tis I, Madame Misunderstand. Your ultimate guide to-” Suddenly Discord went into a coughing fit. “Goddesses! Doing that voice is murder…” Taking out an inhaler, he stuck it in his mouth and breathed deep. “How does my voice actor do it?”
“What?” Twilight asked but it went unacknowledged.
“Okay,” He waved a claw, “so I take it you’re all probably wondering what this part of the overall lesson is about?” They nodded. “So, dropping the old fortune-teller act, I’m going to give it to you all straight from the bottle. For most who have been in a relationship, most would agree that a key factor in making it work is all about having good communication skills, right?”
“Pretty much,” Braeburn nodded, “at least, that’s what Pa told me.”
“Even so, there’s also another side to communication that often tends to be overlooked. Something so basic, that we often assume that those we end up marrying would at least pick up. What I’m talking about, is the skill of listening to someone – while reading between the lines – so to speak. In other words, hearing what they’re saying, and interpret what they mean.”
Yona raised a hoof at that point. “Yona confused. Isn’t point of talking to say what Yak means?”
“In some cases, sure. Taking someone’s word at face value is rightfully judged as a sign of respect. Even downright practical at times too. When it comes to love, however, it might be extremely kind, if not more accurate, to look closely at the meanings and phrases in which your loved one said. Because as much as we want to say what we want, there are a few things that are so humbling, so cripplingly humiliating, that they would have to find another way to say it without expressing it.”
Ms. Harshwhinny raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”
Discord grinned sadistically, “Well thank you for volunteering! Let’s see what you’ve said…” Discord raised his claw/paw over the crystal ball, and upon rubbing it, he grabbed a remote to change the channel with it. “Let’s review a younger you, back when you had been seeing someone.”
The crystal ball then showed an image of a younger Ms. Harshwhinny, probably in her twenties sitting on a bench in a park. Next to her was a stallion that seemed to get increasingly frustrated.
“C’mon, there’s got to be something you want to do.” The stallion said, “I mean, it is your turn to choose what we do here.”
The younger Harshwhinny frowned, didn’t look at her date. “It’s fine.”
“But-”
“Tell you what,” she turned to her date in an impatient tone, “I don’t mind what you want to do. Just pick something, you can do whatever you want. Let me know what you decide.”
Discord pressed a button on his remote. He pressed another button to reverse the moment back a few seconds before pausing. “Now this is interesting. But first, care to explain what just happened here?”
Harshwhinny gave out a tired sigh. “In that relationship… which lasted for a few months… I noticed that he increasingly became concerned about what he wanted over mine. It got to the point where I felt ignored entirely. I said it because I was frustrated and, to a degree, gave up.”
“Frustration is a good word. And you almost said what the real reason is behind that statement. Here, let me translate it for all of you.” After clicking a few buttons, the words: Emotional Translation. Came on.
This time, the younger Ms. Harshwhinny now said: “Since I’m so angry at you, and since you tend to brush me off, I’m forced to control you without saying anything.”
“The truth is,” Discord said, “having legitimacy in a relationship is often very vague. There are countless things we want to convey to our loved ones in what we want to do, but sadly, we can’t control them like puppets – no matter how fun that is. It’s only when we feel so helpless, so unheard that sometimes the only thing to do is to demand without asking – imply without saying what you want.”
“That sounds a little underhoof,” Twilight commented, raising an eyebrow and casting a judgmental eye at her partner.
“In Harshwhinny’s case, she’s not doing it to be sneaky. At this moment in time,” he waved to the crystal ball, “she’s up against the very limits of what she can and can’t control. I’m sure she had to be… what’s the phrase? Passive-aggressive, because it’s her subtle way of getting revenge for having her wants and needs to go unheard. At the same time, on the other end, the one receiving this finds it hard to pick up what’s really going on. To them, they feel guilty, being controlled, if not a bit sad. She’s clever enough not to leave any traces of her manipulation for her date to connect the dots. Sure, it may sound like she’s giving him plenty of options, but within that sort of relationship, the guy will have to do what he hasn’t directly been asked to do.”
Ms. Harshwhinny folded her forelegs. “You’re making me sound like the bad guy.”
“No. All I’m saying is your manipulation has a tender source – because your date didn’t give you options, you won’t give him any without him realizing it. I tip my wig to you.”
“So, Discord,” Twilight inquired, scratching her chin, “is the point of this is that although what they say sounds mean, they’re conveying a message that’s more poignant than it sounds?”
“In a way, yes. But sometimes, the opposite is also true. There are incidences where the sugar-coated surface covers a much darker truth that we know the other might be too fragile to hear.”
Twilight tilted her head in confusion, “In what way?”
“For example…” Discord pressed a button on the remote in which events are speed into reverse. “Recall the last serious relationship you were in. The one that sent a hundred-thousand fanboys screaming. Class, pay very close attention to what the Princess of Friend-zoning says here.”
After pressing a button, what the three couples saw in the crystal ball was something that had the features of Twilight Sparkle (similar mane-style, color tones, and cutie mark), yet this creature didn’t resemble the princess at all. This… thing was lanky, ape-like, and it came with clothing that vaguely resembled pony fashion but tailored to suit this strange body. Next to the odd-looking Twilight was looked similar in form, yet they presume was male. A short cut blue mane, orange-tinted coat, and wearing a white shirt with a blue lightning bolt on it.
“What Yona looking at?” Yona asked, rubbing her eyes to make sure she wasn’t seeing things.
“Classified,” Twilight deadpanned.
“You’re looking at her Ex.” Discord pointed out. “Now listen to the conversation and see where the relationship went up in smoke.” After pressing play, the male ape thing in the crystal ball put a soft paw around the freaky Twilight.
“Did I do something wrong?” The male ape asked.
“No, it has nothing to do with you, Brad. I wouldn’t trade this weekend for anything.”
“Yet you have to disappear for another month or so? Twilight, I thought you liked me.”
“I do. I care about you so much. You’ve made me feel things I’ve never felt with anyone else before. It’s just I might need to have a little distance is all…”
Discord pressed pause. “Did anyone pick up on that?”
“On what?” Sandbar inquired, “Neither of them said anything that would cause concern. It sounded like that Twilight-looking thing does like the other guy but needed some space.”
“Yet, it is exactly when their words have turned into honey that you should be the most suspicious.”
“What’s there to be suspicious about?” Questioned Twilight. “I did mean what I said back there that I needed some time away.”
Discord raised an eyebrow, he pressed the translation button before pressing play.
“You may be nice, but you bore me. I want out of this.”
“Right before the next meeting, you had a hunch that what happened between you and Brad was over.” The Discord in drag pointed out, stroking his goatee. “Ask any psychologist, and they would tell you that one making such speeches is trying to fool their partner and themselves towards a more sentimental approach. Puffing up all that’s sweet, good, and pure with the relationship while overlooking the sour, bad, and tainted sides. As a certain novelist Marecel Proust best puts it: ‘In love, it is often the one who loves less that makes the tender speeches.’ What happened between you and Brad could have several reasons why in the end you decided to break up. Perhaps you realized the bar you set for each other was too high; that expressing difficult news or delivering complicated emotions wasn’t part of the deal.”
“Hey, this was my first relationship,” Twilight said, eyes glancing off and her cheeks tinted an embarrassing shade of red. “We didn’t know what we were doing.”
“Always go into a relationship with an open mind and rock-bottom expectations,” Discord advised, “and don’t be afraid to confront an issue between the two of you. Saying nothing is not the same as preserving a relationship. Now let’s see, who’s next?” He pressed a button on the remote in which the scene in the crystal ball changed to feature Sandbar and Yona exiting a movie theater.
Immediately, both Yona and Sandbar jolted up. “Uh… Discord,” Sandbar said in alarm, “Let’s skip this one.”
Discord put the crystal ball on pause. “Oh?” He raised an eyebrow, “What’s the matter? This is a perfect example.”
Sandbar shook his head nervously, “Really, we don’t want to see it.”
“This before we had big fight,” Yona said, her hooves covering her mouth. “We said things that were hurtful.”
“Which is exactly why,” Discord smirked, “we need to do an autopsy of what started and ended the argument.” He pressed a button to play the moment.
In the crystal ball, Yona and Sandbar walked out of the movie theater. Yona took notice of her coltfriend who looked as if something was troubling him. Although Sandbar didn’t look at her, his expression showed that there was something deeply upsetting.
“Sandbar okay?” Yona asked.
“Huh?” Sandbar looked up. “Oh, no. I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong.”
“Then why Sandbar look like Sandbar about to make mushroom cloud?”
“Yona,” Sandbar said firmly, “I’m fine.”
Discord paused that moment and rewind it a few seconds. “Here’s a tip, Sandbar, if anyone goes about with an expression that seems off and they tell you that they’re fine – they’re not. Oh, and Yona? Here’s what Sandy was really trying to say.”
He pressed a button to translate the moment back to them.
“Sandbar okay?” Yona asked.
“Huh?” Sandbar looked up. “Oh, no. I’m not fine. Around you, I feel hurt, and I’m on the edge of an uncontrolled rage but I’m too scared to voice anything. If I do, I know I will break this relationship that I don’t want to be broken.”
“Then why Sandbar look like Sandbar about to make mushroom cloud?”
“Yona,” Sandbar said firmly, “Even though I’m a full-grown pony, you make me feel like a helpless foal.”
Heads slowly turned to a mortified Sandbar who was so shocked at what he heard that his jaw hang open. But a moment later, he was sucked into a very tight hug in Yona’s very strong hooves.
“Sandy,” Yona said, taking pity on him, “why did Sandbar not say that before? Could have avoided argument.”
“I know why.” Discord chirped. “And also… he looks like he needs air.”
“Oh,” Yona let go of Sandbar who drew in several deep breaths.
“In Sandbar’s case, having to admit that he feels hurt by anyone – you especially – is so emotionally crippling, so humiliating, that I’d bet even if he did try, he would be choked on his tears before he could get a word out. But it’s pretty understandable. Most find it deeply embarrassing to admit to someone they genuinely care about that their loved ones have the godlike power to unnerve, hurt, and even destroy them.”
“But Yona would never hurt Sandbar.”
“I think you misunderstand. For Sandbar, to place not just his strengths, but his weakness at your mercy – he’s placing a lot of hope that you would treat it with kindness. To be fair, you never knew either that when you either abuse or brush off his vulnerability, his hopes are crushed. His decoration to you that he’s just ‘fine’ is an attempt – as unconvincing as it is moving – as a last-ditch claim to be loved properly.
“So,” Discord cleared his throat, “if that’s what started the argument, let’s skip ahead towards the end of it.” Pressing a button on the remote, the imagines within the ball sped up to where the couple made it home, followed by a burst of shouting that seemed to go on for some time. But at one point where Yona slams and breaks a door did Discord paused it, rewind it a little before pausing it again. “And now we get to what might be the more fascinating side-effects in love. Let’s give it a listen.”
Discord pressed play, and what came out was Yona’s screaming.
“DROP DEAD YOU BUCKING PLOTHOLE!” The Yona in the ball screamed as loud as she could before slamming a door in Sandbar’s face, to which the door itself shattered and showering an already hurt Sandbar in splinters.
Yona covered her face in embarrassment.
“Yona didn’t mean to.”
“Let me finish, because what happened here just makes this moment so fascinating to me.” Discord said as he reverses the moment back and pressed a button to translate her words.
“I LOVE YOU SO MUCH YOU BUCKING PLOTHOLE!” The Yona in the ball screamed as loud as she could before slamming a door in Sandbar’s face, to which the door itself shattered and showering an already hurt Sandbar in splinters.
This got Yona’s attention. “Yona confused. What teacher mean?”
“Calling your partner, the worst names you can think of isn’t that blunt or simple as it sounds. I mean, for starters, have you ever noticed that you rarely say or do the same things to Sandbar than you would towards anyone else? The fact that you could show your nastier side means that deep down, you feel comfortable enough so much dare to tell them that they should drop dead. Besides, for Sandbar, this is more or less a good thing.”
Sandbar’s mouth dropped at the statement. “But she got angry at me and practically told me that she hated me. In what universe is that a good thing?”
“To rehash a lesson from another story – most tend to think that angry characters like say… Sombra was a very gloomy type because someone like him gets angry a lot. But dig underneath the shouting, the destruction of property, and the colorful vocabulary that vomits out of their mouths, you’d find that there is a wild optimist underneath it all. The source of anger isn’t some unbalanced chemical in the brain, but is in fact, too much hope that fuels it.” He noticed both Sandbar and Yona looked unconvinced. “Tell me, Yona, do you ever speak like this with anyone you work for – or your friends for that matter?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Yona opened her mouth, but whatever she was going to say at first died on her lips. Closing it, her expression changed into a puzzled look. Surely, this should be easy to answer, yet sitting there in silence for about a solid minute, she offered an answer. “Being polite?”
“No,” Discord shook his head. “It’s because you don’t have the same level of intensive care as you do for Sandbar. From friends, you’re not bothered because you don’t expect much in return back from them; so, there’s very little need to muster rage whenever they disappoint you. It’s only when you set your expectations of Sandbar so dauntingly, dramatically high do you allow to give way to have him be drowned in your fury. The fact that you’re able to show that you are upset at all to him means that you trust him to take it on the chin.”
“Don’t know about y’all,” Braeburn commented, “that one jus’ seems a bit too far-fetch.”
“And thank you for volunteering!” Discord smiled as he turned to him, “Now let’s see if there’s anything good here…” Discord pressed a button to change the imagines in the crystal ball to show Braeburn and his husband. There were flashes of moments that came and went, so fast that no one there could truly make out what was going on. Yet, Discord alone seemed to know what he was looking for as he suddenly paused it to where it shows Braeburn near a dining table with a newspaper while Troubleshoes was nearby a kitchen sink. “Ooh! This is a good one!” He smirked, “Hey Braeburn, riddle me this: what do you and Cozy Glow have in common?”
He pressed play.
“Hey hon?” The Braeburn from the Crystal ball called out. “Have ya taken out the garbage yet?”
“Well Ah-” Troubleshoes started to speak but was quickly interrupted.
“Have the weeds been pulled out from the garden?”
“Ah was gonna do-”
“What about the laundry? And the apples been harvested? Did we get the mail last night? Oh, and don’t forget ta put away the dishes.”
“That’s what Ah’m-”
“And the grass outside is lookin’ a little too overgrown so one of us needs ta mow it.”
Discord pressed pause and rewind the footage. “By now, Trouble, you may be easily be forgiven for thinking that given how cold, controlling, autocratic, even tyrannical he might be when your husband only gives you one command after another. Even the icy tone of it sounds as if all the love has fled elsewhere. However,” he pressed a button to translate, “I’m going to let you in on a secret – one so humiliating, that it threatens to shatter your husband’s façade for what he is.”
He pressed play. This time, what the translation said caught Troubleshoes’ attention.
“Hey hon?” The Braeburn from the Crystal ball called out. “Lately Ah’m gettin’ worried that you’re slippin’ out of mah affections.”
“Well Ah-” Troubleshoes started to speak but was quickly interrupted.
“A’m sad ya never do anythin’ with me anymore.”
“Ah was gonna do-”
“Unless Ah ask ya to.”
“That’s what Ah’m-”
“Because of this, Ah’m tryin’ ta control ya procedurally because Ah feel so out of touch with ya emotionally.”
Trouble looked over to his husband. “Brae… why didn’t you say anything like that?”
“Because,” Discord answered, “the key is in that riddle I asked. What does he and Cozy Glow have in common? Answer…” He leaned forward. “They share a common fear.”
Braeburn raised an eyebrow, “And what would Ah be afraid of?”
“The fear of losing control over the greatest good in your life – Troubleshoes. Or, more accurately, all those demands you made, the lists upon lists of chores you give him, is really a sign of a fear that you’re losing your husband emotionally. One has to feel very out of control to become controlling, you see. The source of your plea is understandable, it's your stern, firmness on getting him to do what you want him to do is misguided. So – for the convivence of Trouble here – let’s get straight to the point, this has nothing to do with the garbage, or the weeds, the laundry, the apples, the mail, the dishes, or even mowing the lawn. If we’re being blunt, you’re just sensing that your hubby over here seems to lack that trust and devotion you crave, so you resort in ordering him about like a mindless robot. That at least some kind of control is better than none. Yet, with this approach, you’ll never get a hold on what you’re really after – his emotions. Anyone would stop for their drive for power if they were reassured that they are loved back. The truth is, your behavior is a bid for affection that’s being delivered as a barking order.”
Discord pulled on his sleeve to look at his sundial watch. “And what do you know? We got plenty of enough time to turn to the last one in the room to get a translation from. Well Trouble, looks like you’re in luck because it’s a doubleheader!”
“Hurray for me,” Troubleshoes deadpanned.
“Knowing from what I’ve gathered from you, especially very recently, you picked out the juiciest bit that managed to cause so much misunderstanding. But, before we can get into that, let’s take a look at something close to home.”
Discord changed its channel again, this time the crystal ball showed Troubleshoes and Braeburn snapping at one another in an apple orchard.
“What they hey is goin’ on?” Braeburn demanded, “Ya gone from bein’ lovely ta bein’ cold as an apple fritter ice cream. We don’t even talk no more.”
Troubleshoes rolled his eyes, readying himself to buck one of the trees. “Oh buck off,” he told him with a swift kick, “Ah don’t wanna see you now!”
Discord paused and reversed the moment. “Of course, it’s not that simple as it sounds. And Braeburn, you better hold onto something if I were you. ‘Cause this one’s a doozy.”
He pressed a button to translate it and pressed play.
“What they hey is goin’ on?” Braeburn demanded, “Ya gone from bein’ lovely ta bein’ cold as an apple fritter ice cream. We don’t even talk no more.”
Troubleshoes rolled his eyes, readying himself to buck one of the trees. “Since you’ve been so heartless with your demands, I’m getting scared that you don’t want me anymore,” he told him with a swift kick, “So Ah’m gettin’ it in early with my revenge.”
The others turned to Braeburn, who’s mouth had hang lose. He looked back at his husband. “So all that talk that you don’t think yer goin’ enough…” He began, the gears in his mind turning, “is that you’re afraid Ah might…”
Troubleshoes, who feeling like he was caught sticking his hoof in a cookie jar, looked away. “Ah didn’t want ya ta worry. It’s just a small thing…”
Braeburn hugged him, catching his husband off guard. “Shoes, Ah’m not gonna leave ya. Look, Ah’m sorry that Ah didn’t take inta account how all of this would affect ya. Ah’ve been so busy with doin’ a million things that Ah didn’t stop ta think…”
Trouble hugged him back, “Ah’m not used ta doin’ this either. Ah didn’t know what was goin’ on, and was confused. And part of the time, Ah didn’t pick up on what yer tryin’ ta say.”
“Oh! Speaking of which,” Discord pressed a button on the remote to fast-forward the images in the crystal ball, “There’s one more, very important thing that everyone in the world is guilty of. In fact, Troubleshoes, you’ve done this before you set hoof in this tent.”
“Ah did?”
“Take a look for yourself.” He pressed play.
In the ball, it showed all of them just outside of the tent.
“Discord did say that this was part of the lesson, right?” Sandbar asked.
“He did,” Troubleshoes nodded. “Somethin’ about seein’ what yer spouse really is sayin’. Ah think.” He frowned, “Ah’m goin’ in.”
“What?” Braeburn went in front of his husband, “What for? Ah thought we’d speak all the time.”
“You do.” He said, walking around him.
“What’s got inta you?”
“Nothin’,” he replied before walking into the tent.
Discord pressed pause and rewind it for a second. “You may not know this,” he pointed to Troubleshoes, “but I couldn’t help but noticed that for most of the time that I was talking, you were very silent for the most part. And I think I know why. You sir were undertaking the funniest and saddest thing in any relationship. I’m of course talking about – the sulk.”
He pressed a button to translate before pressing play.
“What’s got inta you?” Braeburn in the crystal ball asked.
“Ah’m upset because you’ve hurt me. But Ah’m not gonna explain what’s wrong because by now ya should be able ta read my mind and jus’ know.”
“Now that doesn’t make a lick of sense.” Troubleshoes pointed out, “Why would Ah think that? It sounds so…”
“Illogical?” Twilight finished the sentence.
“Well yeah!”
“To an outsider, it really is.” Discord agreed. “And most sulks tend to start over a disappointment or frustration. Such as your love didn’t ask you how’s your day, or didn’t notice that you showered and got a new mane-cut, or simply not been paid enough attention. Yet what comes out of isn’t an argument – quite the opposite, really – it’s a silent siege. A domestic cold war being waged between partners where the one who asks: ‘What’s wrong with you?’ is met by a single, stubborn, wintery word: ‘Nothing.’ This is followed by locking yourself in a bathroom, refusing to let out what’s been upsetting you.”
“Where do sulks come from?” Yona inquired. “Why not explain one hurt?”
“It comes from two areas: foalhood, and the Romantics. When I say foalhood, I mean back in the days when you were an infant. Back then, we didn’t know how to talk and therefore, get what we want and need. But those giants that we called our parents seemed to magically knew somehow – just like that! That we feel we were hungry, or that our diaper needs changing, or to gain applause when we’ve taken our first steps. In the arms of our parents, they tried their best to guess what we wanted, to make sure we were comfy and happy. However, through no fault of the parents, they installed a deep impression in us that this is what love as an adult was going to be like.
“Also, partly, the Romantics had a hoof in this too. They honestly believed that true love is wordless. That there was no need to examine or compare through words. They thought that if you had to explain yourself to your romantic interest – then that was a sign that love has failed. This is why during the early days of the relationship, there are pleasant moments where the pair of you didn’t have to say anything. That they knew and agreed with us automatically! But we tend to keep forgetting that the mind, especially your loved ones, is a complicated thing. Having them not explain themselves in how they tick, is like trying to learn calculus without open the textbook. So, for Troubleshoes sulking by not explaining what it’s all for isn’t a sign that he’s a demon, just that he’s a pony.”
“So what should we do when we feel like sulking or encountering someone who is?” Ms. Harshwhinny asked.
“Ideally, in a saner world, couples on their wedding days should exchange books called ‘My Insanities’ where it contains explanations and warnings whenever something comes up. Such as ‘When I get angry, I expect you to read my mind.’ Or ‘When I’m frustrated, I go cold.’ Such books would use lots of words that would give our lover a mental map of what they should expect from us.
“In the meantime, perhaps before you go marching into a sieging sulk, try to do the partner the courtesy (as calmly as you can) to give them a small seminar. That you and your loved one should be able to learn and teach the other in a kind, patient way about who they are and why they act the way they do. But if you find that you’ve unleashed that silent war, realize that the one doing the sulking isn’t doing it to be mean, they’re just frightened deep down.
“Take Troubleshoes here, sure he may be a huge adult that might be competent in many areas, but when he’s emotionally hurt, he can feel like a crying infant that’s in the hooves of someone that doesn’t know how to take care of him.”
Troubleshoes rubbed the sides of his head. “All of this is really complicated stuff.”
“You’re not alone, most tend to think that trying to interpret what your significant other is saying isn’t a skill to cultivate. But it really should be. I can predict that in a century or two, someone will invent a device you stick in your ear where it translates in real-time what your spouse wants to say – and ideally, their spouse would wear one too. Until then when that pony who invents it will be extremely wealthy, we’ll just have to make the effort in the skill of interpretation.
“Oh, and Braeburn?”
“Yeah?”
Discord smirked, “That’ll be twenty bits, please.”
Lesson 4 – Challenges of Marriage: The Wheel of Relationships
Among the carnival games, there was an easily eye-catching one. It was a huge wheel that was divided up into twelve sections. Only there were no words painted on this wheel except for the colors of black and red. Right below it was a platform for which ponies and creatures could climb up to spin the wheel. And pacing on this platform was a copy of Discord in a carny outfit, complete with a striped vest, a straw hat, and a bamboo cane.
As soon as he eyed Lyra, Sweetie Drops, Starlight, Trixie, Ms. Cheerliee, and Rarity, he smiled.
“Hello ladies!” he tipped his hat to them. “Come up and test your luck on the carnival’s favorite game – The Wheel of Relationships! Don’t be shy, step right up here and spin the great wheel to earn a prize!” He tapped on the wheel as he said this. “No tickets needed; no bits required to play this game. Just come right up and see what you’d get.”
Trixie stopped, “What kind of prize?”
Discord tapped on the wooden floor of the platform in which a doll of Starlight appeared in his talons. “Why this! Your prize if you play will be a talking doll of your beloved. See, it comes with a string in the back so that when you pull on it, it’ll talk. But depending on where on the wheel it will land, your special somepony will get to say different things. So, what do you say?”
The other mares looked at one another. “I guess it could be fun.” Lyra said, “Hey, do you have a plushy of her?” She pointed at her wife.
“Indeed, I do!” A doll of Sweetie Drops, complete with button eyes appeared in his lion’s paw. “And it comes in twelve different settings. So c’mon, do you ladies want to play? I got one of all you.”
“Well, they do look adorable.” Rarity commented. “I suppose playing this can’t hurt.”
“Eh,” Starlight shrugged. “Why not. It sounds harmless enough.”
The mares stepped up on the platform, to which Trixie stepped up. “Trixie like to go first.”
Discord smiled, “Wonderful! But before you do, let’s be clear about something.” Discord waved his cane over and onto his shoulders. “All the things that are on this here wheel have the most common sorts or relationships. A word, which here means: ‘To be in a romantic and/or sexual relationship with at least one willing, fully-grown partner.’ Now spin the wheel madame, and let’s see what kind of stuff your special plushie,” he held up a doll that looked like Starlight, “will say.”
Trixie used her magic to take hold of one of the pegs of the wheel and gave it a turn. The wheel sprung around as the dial at the top clicked with every passing peg, slowing it down bit by bit. However, when it slowed down enough, the wheel stopped at one of the panels where words appeared.
The Separate Spheres Relationship.
“Ooh!” Discord beamed, “You get the unique kind. Here you go.” He said, handing the doll over to Trixie.
Curious to see what it would say, Trixie used her magic to pull on the string in the back.
“So the way it works,” the Starlight plushy explained, “is that we set up a time when we should be together and when we need some space. You’d get a key to your own room and I’ll do the same with mine. That way, we can have all the time for privacy, do all the stuff we wanted, and still come together to do things as a couple. What do you say?”
Trixie blinked as she turned to her marefriend, “Hey, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”
“Maybe but…” Starlight raised an eyebrow. “That’s not something I would say.”
“Young lady,” Discord twirled his bamboo cane as he walked over to her. “I don’t think you’re understanding the point of this exercise.”
“Which is?”
“The Wheel of Relationships is to help illustrate not only how many different kinds there are, but to look closely at both their pros and cons of each.”
“What do you mean?” Trixie asked.
“I’d keep pulling on that string if I were you.” Discord pointed out. “There’s more to the deal than you think.”
Curious, Trixie pulled on the doll’s string again.
“Trixie, we need to talk. I don’t think this arrangement is going to work. I didn’t take into account how difficult this whole scheduling this really is.”
She pulled again.
“Seriously, Trixie, I feel that you’re being really distant as of late.”
And again.
“How come you spend more time in that room than me!”
And again.
“The kids haven’t got to be around you in the past month, Trixie!”
And again.
“I’ve been seeing someone else.”
This made her drop the doll in shock.
“I’d take it you don’t like the setting?” Discord inquired as he picked the plushie up. “For a limited time, you ladies have the opportunity to spin this puppy twice if you’re not satisfied.”
Without another word, Trixie spins the wheel again. This time, when the wheel slowed down to a stop, new words materialized on it.
Serial Nonbinding Monogamy.
Trixie raised an eyebrow, “What does that mean?”
“Simply put, it’s the type of relationship where you go through a whole series of partners, one after the other, with no strings attached.”
Looking back at the plushie of her marefriend, she pulled on the string.
“In other words,” it said, “the upside is that you’ll be able to have a lot of sexual possibilities with others.” She pulled on the string again, “The downside is you will face isolation with a side order of insecurity.”
Trixie gently pushed the doll back to him. “No thank you.” She said walking away.
“You know what?” Lyra stepped up. “I’m feeling adventurous.”
“Oh?” Discord pulled out a plushie of her wife. “We’ll see about that. Spin the wheel and earn your prize.”
She did so. This time the wheel stopped and the words on it now say:
Parenting Relationship.
“Here you go, sweetheart,” Discord said, offering the plushie to Lyra, “let’s see what yours say.”
Lyra pulled on the string.
“It’s the perfect compromise! After we reassure the kids, settle them down, make sure they’re all taken care of, then we could start to date other ponies. It’s a win-win! The family can stay intact while we can have all the variety we want.”
She looked between him and the doll. “That… I’m not sure the real Sweetie Drops would do something like that.”
“Especially the dating other ponies’ part.” Sweetie Drops pointed out.
“Maybe not. But there’s more to this though.”
Lyra pulled on the string.
“Oh, so you’re going after models now, aren’t ya?”
And pulled again.
“If you love me so much, then why are you spending more time over there than here?”
And again.
“PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME!”
“Uh…”
“Okay,” Sweetie Drops nodded, “now it sounds like me.”
“Hey Discord,” Lyra inquired, “are there any alternatives to this?”
He gestured over to the wheel in which the mare spun it again. This time, new words formed when it landed on a new panel:
Communal Living.
Lyra raised an eyebrow. “What? Like living in a commune or something? Like hippies?”
Discord pulled on the string of the Sweetie Drops doll.
“Eh… kinda. But more like living with a bunch of other families under one roof to where everyone’s open about it.”
Curious, Lyra pulled on the string.
“There’s upsides to this, Lyra. Any foalcare is shared among all of us, and there’s plenty of variation in the bedroom – if you know what I mean.”
“Yeah? And what it’s downsides?” She asked, pulling on the strings.
“I won’t lie, even with the open communication, it’s still kinda hard to master. It’s unrealistically utopian. There’s jealousy floating about. Ponies get into fights and arguments tend to break out. So, you wanna go for it?”
With a raised eyebrow, she looked over back to her wife and handed the doll back to Discord. “You know what? I’d rather stick with my wife.”
Discord hummed as his attention turned to Sweetie Drops, “So Ex-Agent Bon Bon,” he asked as the plushie suddenly busted into green flames and was replaced with a version of Lyra. “Want to play along?”
“Is there a rest stop between here and the point?” Sweetie Drops questioned.
“Oh, there is,” Discord told her, twirling his cane, “but all of you will have to play the game first.”
She sighed, “Alright, let’s get this over with.” Putting a hoof on the wheel’s pegs, she gave it a great heave, letting it spin quickly and fast. About a minute or so, the wheel slowed down until the dial pointed to a new panel in which new words formed on it.
The Sunset Clause Marriage.
Sweetie Drops tilted her head. “What the hay does that mean?”
“Pull on the Lyra plushie and find out.” He said, offering the doll over to her.
Taking it into her hooves, she pulled on the string on the back to let it explain.
“In a nutshell,” the talking doll said, “It’s where a couple renegotiates their relationship every year or so. At most, few couples do this once every ten years.”
“Yeah, but to renegotiate what?” And pulled on the string again.
“Whether or not to be in a relationship, of course. And there’s plenty of upsides to this arrangement.”
“Such as…?” And pulled again.
“Well there would be more appreciation and effort on both ends. The foals would be somewhat reassured. And it strangely has an aphrodisiacal side effect since both of us could up and leave at any time.”
“Huh…” looking up at Discord for a moment, Sweetie Drops asked, “So what’s the catch?” And pulled on the string.
“Oh, the usual stuff. Insecurity; the terror of being abandoned; increased in jealousy that the other might fall for someone; really hard to master; and even if we do leave, there might be no one better out there.”
Sweetie Drops frowned, “I’ll spin again.”
This time, after she spun it, the wheel landed on a new panel in which it materialized the words:
Celibacy.
“Nope.” Sweetie Drops tossed the plushie back to Discord and, thinking quickly, he pulled on the string.
“Ah c’mon, Sweetie! Think of all the time you’ll have to do all kinds of stuff like work or make stuff.”
“And what? Face being alone and humiliated that everyone else is getting off but me again?” Sweetie Drops questioned. “No thank you.”
Shrugging, Discord then turned to the remaining mares on the platform. “So, who wants to go next?”
Looking around, Ms. Cheerliee sighed as she stepped up to pull on the wheel. Letting it spin and, much like the others, it too landed on a panel that was once blank until the dial landed on it to reveal its words.
Polyamory.
“You know, I’ve heard of this one.” She said with a knowing smile. “It’s the kind of relationship where ponies have the ability to be in more than one sexual, and romantic relationship at the same time with the full knowledge and consent of the other partners involved.”
“A good enough definition,” Discord said, conjuring up a plushie of Rarity, “here’s your prize.”
Letting the doll float over to the schoolteacher, Ms. Cheerliee let it rest on her outstretched hoof. And quickly understanding what needs to be done, she pulled on the string from its back.
“Well just think of all the advantages, Darling,” the Rarity doll said, “You get all the constant sexual and emotional support from all sorts of ponies. You’d get the freedom to be with whomever you want to be with. You’re able to learn more about yourself. And there’s not much day-to-day frustration as long as there’s open communication between all of us.”
Ms. Cheerliee blinked, “You know, maybe it’s the years of learning about critical thinking, but this sounds a little too good to be true.”
Discord smiled, “Here’s a healthy rule of thumb if a principle sounds so good on paper that it leaves out anything that might damper on that – chances are, there are downsides that aren’t being addressed.”
“For example…?”
Discord pulled the string to make the doll talk again.
“Well let’s face it, such an arrangement isn’t exactly widely acceptable. Not to mention a bit… utopian in concept. It’s tricky to master if you don’t know what you’re doing. Which is why communication skills are so critical. If you don’t have it and it all breaks down, then there’s plenty of jealousy from everyone, guilt for turning someone down, discontinuity among partners with their wants and needs, foals would be in such turmoil. And overall, such planning is exhausting, sending one’s career into utter chaos. And if you’re an introvert… it can prove to be such a nightmare. While it could work for some, I have to say it’s not for everyone.”
Cheerliee frowned. “Any other options?”
Discord answered by pointing at the wheel. So, taking hold of the wheel’s pegs, she spun it again to where it landed on a new panel.
Divorce.
“Ah! Now this one isn’t as bad as the others.” Miss Cheerliee said confidently.
“How do you know?” Rarity inquired. “I thought you were single.”
“I am. But from what I’ve heard from the parents of my students. Sometimes a couple getting a divorce is actually a good thing.”
“Why?” Lyra inquired. “I thought when a divorce happens, it means that a marriage is over?”
“Not quite, it means that a bad marriage is over.”
“Your half right,” Discord pointed out. “But there’s more to it.” He said pulling on the plushie’s string.
“With Divorce comes new possibilities for new partners. An end to cycles of disappointment and frustration. Not to mention that the past problems are all their fault. But of course, there is a catch.” Cheerliee pulled on the string. “For some, foals may be troubled by the event. Your finances would be in chaos. You might find a difficult time finding anyone better out there. And secretly, you’d know that it’s your fault too.”
Cheerliee gave the doll back to Discord. “Now ladies, we have a few more left. Who wants to give it a try?”
“Discord, what is the point of all of this?” Rarity questioned.
“All truths come to those who wait, and since you spoke up,” Discord turned the plushie inside out to make it look like Cheerliee with button eyes. “Just a few more turns and all will be revealed.”
Rolling her eyes, Rarity used her horn to spin the wheel. When it slowed down and the dial landed on a new panel. This time the words that materialized were enough to make her blush.
Friends with Benefits.
“Going off by the face that’s turning as red as Big Mac,” Discord pointed out, “I’d say that you’ve had some experience with this type of relationship.”
“Well I for one don’t see how this would count as a relationship,” Rarity pointed out, “especially when it’s not exactly romantic.”
Discord pulled on the Cheerliee plushie's string.
“Maybe not,” the doll replied, “but such an arrangement does give you the freedom to explore sexy opportunities with someone you trust.” And pulled again, “But of course, there are some downsides to it. There’s a lack of actual love between you and them. Jealousy if the other friend is seeing somepony else. A risk of dishonesty and loneness too.”
“Well… You’re not wrong.” Rarity frowned, her horn lighting up again to spin the wheel. This time, the panel it landed on didn’t enact embarrassment, but a confused look.
Marriage with Secret Affairs.
“Hang on,” Sweetie Drops interjected, “So… cheating counts as a relationship here?”
“Yep!” Discord chirped. “Like the other category, it’s a sexual one, so it technically counts.”
Pulling on the doll’s string, the plushie Ms. Cheerliee added, “Sure, it would count as cheating. But there are some upsides to this arrangement. At least there’s stability (if not a fragile one) that has all the excitement that one’s current spouse couldn’t give.” He pulled on the string again. “However, this too has a catch. This relationship will have to be filled with deceit. Jealousy and anger if this comes to light. Cowardice from the one conducting the affair, along with a huge amount of shame.”
“So, Rarity,” Discord offered the plushie to her, “do you want to claim your prize?”
Rarity shook her head.
“Well now, that only leaves good old Starlight.” Discord took a moment to have the Cheerliee plushie be dipped in fondue, eat the surrounding cheese coating, leaving a now adorable Trixie doll. “You want to know what this one is going to say?”
“Since we’re almost done here.” Starlight lit up her horn to spin the wheel. The dial stopped it on one of the last two remaining blank panels before it magically filled in the missing words.
Love or Sex.
“Ah, a popular pick.” Discord smirked. “This is also known more or less accurately as the Open Relationship.”
“I’ve heard of this,” Rarity said, “apparently there are some rather famous couples who are in such an arrangement. However, they are only rumors from what I’ve heard.”
“But why?” Starlight inquired, taking the Trixie plushie into her aura to be near her. Pulling on the string, she let the doll explain.
“Sure, it’s a bit… old fashioned. However, even Trixie admits it is the most enlightened option. As we understand that love and sex don’t quite belong together, it’s possible to have a variety of partners sexually while we can still see each other romantically. If anything, it helps to help strengthen our love even more.”
“Yeah… but from what I’ve been hearing, there must be a catch to this, right?” She pulled on the string again.
“Let’s see… not that socially acceptable. Prone to jealousy. And like that Polyamory stuff, if you don’t what you’re doing, you’ll find it harder to pull off than a magic trick.”
“I’d thought as much.” So, eyeing the wheel’s last blank panel, she guided the wheel over so that the dial can point to it to reveal the last relationship on there.
The Standard Marriage.
“Huh…” Lyra raised an eyebrow. “And here is something I thought we would have covered before.”
Starlight pulled on the string, “So if I marry Trixie later one for real, can I expect?”
“Well there’s some good stuff. You’d get to own one prized pony. Better continuity with learning what we want and need. It’s stable. Any future foals would be reassured. There’s financial stability. Not to mention socially acceptable.”
“But…?” She pulled on the string again.
“Trixie won’t lie… You will get board of Trixie sexually within two years or so. You will get frustrated at my insanities, immaturities, and my eventual lack of appreciation. And, ironically given this whole conversation, you will suspect that there might be better alternative relationships out there.”
Starlight sighed as she took the plushie in her hooves, “I guess I’ll take it.”
Discord let out a fanfare of kazoos. “Congratulations Starlight!”
“Okay, we did all this,” Starlight waved a hoof at the wheel. “So, what’s the point you’re trying to make?”
“Look carefully again,” he pointed at the wheel. “Has anyone here noticed a pattern?”
“Huh?” All the mares looked back at the panels again.
“What pattern?” Sweetie Drops questioned. “All this has been saying that even the most reasonable kind of relationship has a catch.”
“You’re close,” Discord waved his bamboo cane until it turned into a balloon of his head on a string. “With all these twelve types, there runs a certain theme – loyalty with safety, or freedom with excitement. Romanticism attempted to combine both of these things with their love, thus tricking the world into thinking that they could have the same thing with their spouses. However, the painful truth is when one is in a relationship with someone, they would have a difficult choice to make. Either they could put their stock into loyalty but risk suffering from never-ending boredom, decaying appreciation, and being sexually frustrated with their partner. Then again, if they go for the excitement route, sure, you’d get freedom; but so will you get chaos, indecisiveness, exhaustion, jealousy, and humiliation.
“The point of this is that regardless of what kind of relationship you want to get yourself into, your options aren’t between being happy or falling into error, but what kind of suffering would you rather go for.”
“So, what?” Sweetie Drops questioned, “The only option is to… what? Not be in a relationship?”
“I didn’t say that. Besides, even this,” he pointed to the Celibacy panel, “has its downsides too. Yet, if you do want a suggestion,” Discord turned his back on them, “is that you shouldn’t be too focused on the outside structure of relationships that make it easier to hire and fire new lovers. But to invest more in learning about emotional skills. Perhaps take a closer look at why living creatures are so hard to love, and why living with any of you would be just as difficult. If you want to make any kind of relationship work, it is best to understand what exactly you want out of love – and why.”
Lesson 4 – Challenges of Marriage: The Matrimony Freak Show
In the center of this carnival stood a round circus tent. On the outside, it looked worn and torn, something like a setting to a horror film. Yet, around the sides were posters that bid anyone to come inside. At one end was the only entrance inside with two signs standing either side, pointing towards the parted flaps towards the abyss.
The Matrimony Freak Show.
“Y’all think that Discord would have been a bit more sensitive than this,” Applejack pointed out. “Ta put on a freak show when he kinda is one.”
“What do you think this one’s about?” Rainbow Dash inquired. “Because I don’t know about the rest of ya, but I’m definitely curious about this.”
“I have a question,” Silverstream raised her claw, “what’s a freak show?”
“They’re used to be shows that exhibited creatures and weird ponies that could do strange things or they had an odd deformity.” Soarin explained, “Think of a pony that was born with an extra leg or could breathe fire. They’re no longer around though.”
Gallus raised an eyebrow. “But this is a matrimony freak show. So what kind of stuff does Discord want to show us?”
“Hopefully nothing too scary as that foal haunted house,” Fluttershy shuttered. “Now that was truly terrifying.”
The rest of the group shivered at the memory.
“Well, whatever it is,” Gallus said, “it can’t nearly be as bad… right?”
“The only way any of us are gonna find out,” Applejack pointed out, walking towards the entrance, “is ta see what Discord has fer us.”
With the group following behind her, they walked into a small space where there was only enough room for them to sit, and a large dirt arena with three rings with a black top hat in the middle of a lit spotlight overhead. They stood around the arena, waiting to see what would happen now.
“And now, Mares and Gentlecolts!” Discord’s voice boomed in the microscopic tent. “Gather around the stage as we bring to you the most heart-stopping show in the world! Welcome, to the one and only – Matrimony Freak Show!”
There was a flash of fireworks and smoke where Discord, now fully dressed in a royal red ring master’s overcoat rose from the stage, placing the top hat on his head. “Welcome! Welcome!” He bowed to them, grinning as he did so until he spotted Fluttershy. He froze. “Uh… H-Hello, you lovely madame,” Discord reached into a sleeve to pull out a cartoonishly large sunflower and offering it to her, “for you.”
Fluttershy smiled back as she took the stem of the flower into her hooves.
Discord turned back to his small audience. “Thank you all for choosing my humble little place. We have such a show for you today, so much so that those couples in the back are gnarling to the teeth to show off how bad they really are.”
“Hey, Discord,” Rainbow Dash called out, “what’s this lesson about?”
He grinned a little wider. “Oh, I’m so glad you asked! Before we start the show, let’s be honest about something here. If you think about it, choosing someone to be your spouse is the most important sort of job interview we’ll ever have to do.”
“I guess it’s not surprising,” Soarin commented, “considering that whoever you go with, you will have to live with them.”
Discord nodded. “The problem is, thanks to the Romantics, we’ve lost the art of figuring out how we would know for certainty that we would be able to live with them. As much we praise marriage, we’re strangely quiet on it’s more troubling sides. At least, the kind of stuff that couples tend to face on a daily basis. I mean, the divorce rating says it all. However, it’s important to keep in mind that we’re so bad at picking our spouses, not because we’re incompetent, but we’re wounded mentally.”
“Let me guess,” Gallus folded his arms, “the whole childhood thing?”
“Yep! And not just any childhood, our messed-up childhoods. The single greatest indicator of unhappiness as adults were sown in our earlier years. We grew up with parents and caregivers who left us miserable in a variety of ways. So, the idea that any damaged individual could grow up to make the right decisions is pretty insane.
“With all that’s involved, especially when you get married to someone who is just as damaged as you are, you’d think there would be a little bit of training with some hazard lights to guide us, right? But no, all dedication to any so-called public safety ends as soon as you go dating. This is out of some weird fear that it interferes with the freedoms that we dive into our beautifully crafted disasters. We’re left alone to follow our gut feelings and hope that maybe, they might be decent. Worst of all, we make these mistakes from one generation to the next without drawing even the slightest lesson from those who have more experience.”
Floating over their heads and the spotlight following him, he added, “Which is why I’m putting on this show. Think of this as a guide to why all of you may end up marrying the wrong pony or creature. I’m going to show you the problems that even the most die-hard Romantics don’t want you to see.”
“Really?” Silverstream tilted her head. “Like what?”
“There are six common reasons why marriages tend to go wrong. Starting with the beast that has descended from the icy mountains of the East. Please welcome to the first ring – our Freak number one!”
He gestured over to the first ring in which another Discord in a showgirl outfit pushed a circular curtain to its center. Then pulling on a cord, the group prepared for whatever abomination Discord had in store, only to find… Gallus. The real Gallus that stood next to Soarin gave Discord an obscene gesture with his claws.
“Huh?” Silverstream blinked at seeing herself. “Discord, what is this?”
“The first reason why relationships go wrong, my dear. That we don’t fully understand ourselves or others.”
“What?” The other Gallus questioned, “Now how can that be? I know who I am, right? So what do you mean I don’t understand myself, I’m myself, no one else knows better than me.”
“Eh…” Discord turned his attention to her. “Okay, if you do know yourself, then tell me, what kind of behaviors might you prove to be difficult to someone else?”
The other Gallus blinked. “What are you talking about? I’m pretty easy going, I have a good family, good friends, so I’d say that everything’s pretty good. It’s fine, all is fine.”
“Behold!” Discord waved his arms at the other Gallus, “The very thing I was talking about, folks! This is someone who doesn’t realize that everyone, including herself, that we’re all deeply crazy in various ways. Some of us are anxious, or unbalanced, even immature. But the problem is, we’re so blissful in our ignorance. None of us knows the full details because no one else has encouraged us to think too hard to figure out why. And to borrow what was said in a previous lesson: our parents aren’t going to tell because they wanted to be sweet; our friends aren’t going to say because they just want a nice night out; our enemies and exes know but they can’t be bothered to tell us. So with this low self-knowledge, we wouldn’t have a clue who we might be most compatible with.”
“Mr. Discord,” the real Silverstream raised her claw, “Is this why the first questions we got for that dating lesson is ‘How are you crazy?’”
“Yep!” Discord chirped. “You see, what singles out the emotionally mature from the rest isn’t not being involved with insane potential spouses – they’re pretty much everywhere – but to tend to spot the problem and detach themselves as quickly as possible. However, someone that has grown up with a difficult childhood has the tendency of getting stuck. But for good reason: this poor creature doesn’t like himself all that much. So when his future husband blows hot and cold, let him down, play mind games, make and then dances on the grave of those broken promises, denies tenderness, swears that they won’t do that horrible thing and predictably does – his first, second, and billionth impulse won’t just get out of dodge. Because he thinks he so bad deep down, he’ll wonder what he did wrong. That maybe he misunderstood something or wonder how he caused the problem. He’d rather blame himself than have the audacity to think that his hubby isn’t good. It could take him a lifetime to make that realization that anyone else could reach in minutes – that they’re not worth it.”
“Well screw you too,” Gallus sulked.
“Flattered, but you’ll have to wait in line.” This got a laugh from the group before he continued, “But to be fair, it’s just as hard to figure out how our potential spouses are nuts as it is with figuring out what’s wrong with oneself. After all, they put on such a good show… at first. Ideally, anyone dating should be sent to psychotherapy for four years at least before deciding if they can tolerate each other. In a good hundred years, this will become the norm, and they will wonder what took the rest of us so long.”
Discord turned to the next ring. “Bring out the next freak!”
A disgruntled copy of Discord in a showgirl outfit carried out a bucket of water to have it set in the middle of the ring.
“Now for the next reason why marriages go up in flames is the unique happy-go-lucky of the deep – it’s Freak number two!”
Splashing out from that bucket of water was another Silverstream in her seapony form. Touching the broken pearl around her neck, she flashed into the familiar pink hippogriff.
“Take a look at this lovely specimen,” Discord waved at the other Silverstream, “this one may look like your average hippogriff that loves to talk, but don’t be fooled, she has a fear that fuels most disastrous marriages – she views being single as awful.”
“But Mr. Discord,” the other Silverstream objected, “That’s not fair, everyone else is happier when they have a special some creature.”
“Oh yeah? And what’s wrong about being single?”
She winced, “C-C’mon, you just can’t be both normal and single.”
“Notice the fear in her voice.” Discord pointed out. “This one is so afraid of being alone, she would rather be in the wrong sort of relationship – than none at all.”
“But Discord,” Fluttershy spoke up, “being alone isn’t all bad. I should know.”
“Maybe not. Yet, you’d have to be very much at peace with yourself on Saturday nights, having long periods of isolation and lack of sex to be choosy in the right way. If you’re an extrovert, no wonder why a good chunk of the population just closes their eyes to take whatever is nearby.
“Not to mention that it’s worse when you’re in a bad relationship. Especially when you want so badly to leave but can’t because you just don’t know what will happen if you do. Those like this one,” he waved to the other Silverstream, “are scared because they think if they do leave, they won’t know how much longer alone they will be. After all, who else would have them? And worse, who in the world would tolerate someone like them? They would stay for years, watching their hopes be smashed by their spouses’ cruelty.
“You know when you’re not ready for marriage when the fear of being alone trumps the fear of marrying someone bad for you.”
“Good thin’ Ah got hitched ta the right one.” Applejack commented, with a bit of pride in her voice.
“And just like that, let’s meet our next Freak!” Discord turned to the third ring where another Discord in a showgirl outfit dumped a few barrels of apples on the ground. “Our next one comes out from the sticks, she’s a farmer’s daughter that prefers other daughters – it’s Freak number three!”
“Yeeha!” Out from that pile of apples, another Applejack popped out. “Ya know, Ah don’t know why we’re here. Love’s just a feelin’, ya don’t need ta go ta school when it comes ta somethin’ like love.”
“Mares and Gentlecolts,” Discord gestured, “I give you the next reason: no education required, just follow your heart. Let’s face it, outside of my class, there’s almost no information out there, is there? The couples that take classes are the ones that are in counseling for what’s gone wrong. This to me is upside-down. In a wiser culture, couples should learn from courses that are as strict and important as Magic ED. Countless couples get married without knowing why they fail, they don’t try to talk to other couples and their hardships – not to mention avoiding divorced ones like the plague. Most newlyweds assume that such a thing happens out of sheer stupidity that they’re so not like at all. Well, I got news for ya: you are. Maybe more than you think.”
“Now that’s just a bunch of horse apples!” The other Applejack objected, “Everyone knows that it’s all about how ya feel. So what need is there ta think too much about it? Any sensible pony would tell ya that Twilighting yer relationships are the least romantic thin’ ya can do.”
He frowned, “Hey real Applejack! Do you ever go out in the fields, or deliver your apple products, or even charge into battle without thinking?”
“Course not,” the real Applejack said, folding her forelegs, “anyone who thinks that they can just do somethin’ without the proper knowhow is jus’ beggin’ ta have it blow up in their faces.”
“But that’s different,” the other Applejack called out. “When it comes ta love, are ya sayin’ that jus’ have it all arranged is any better?”
“So what? Is getting hitched in a drive-through wedding chapel in Las Pegasus in the middle of the night when you only have known your special somepony for two minutes any more sensible? To your impulsive feelings, it sounds like a good idea – it won’t be.”
Overhead at the first ring where the other Gallus stood, a cloud formed overhead while another Discord nearby in an angelic dress with a golden harp muttered why the author is forcing these background Discords into drag.
“Up next in our masquerade of mistakes,” Discord pointed upward, “he’s from Cloudsdale, a pretty good professional flyer, and has no clue why his past dates keep blowing up in his face, it’s Freak number four!”
Out from the cloud that flew around a few times around the tent was another Soarin that had on the trademark Wonderbolt outfit. He saluted before descending to the first ring, kissing the other Gallus on the cheek.
“We’re in luck folks,” Discord announced, “because this one is a double-header! Because he has within him two reasons why he would end up marrying the wrong kind of guy. Don’t believe me? Watch this.” He waved to him, “Hey, other Soarin! Why did you get married?”
The other Soarin smirked, “Because I’m in love and he makes me happy.”
“Take heed of this,” Discord pointed out, “most couples think they want happiness, but remember, what we’re after is what we were used to since foalhood – which usually doesn’t involve too much happiness at all. Most of us when we grew up, the love we were introduced to by our families and caregivers were stirred in with other, darker stuff. From being controlled, humiliated, being abandoned, neglected, or abused. Or to put it simply, we suffered, but that’s what we were at home with. Now when they say they want happiness, what they’re after is someone that feels familiar.
“Again, to borrow from another lesson, this is exactly why, like Gallus, had rejected so many good and kind contestants. Despite us can’t figuring out what exactly is wrong with them, we say that they were boring, not interesting, queasy inducing and that they off. These two have brushed off those sorts of characters because they threatened to be kind to them.”
“Well, it’s not merely that,” the other Soarin told him, “I married Gallus because I can be sure that with him around, all the good stuff that I experience will be permanent.” He turned to the other Gallus, resting a hoof underneath his beak, “Like that time when we were in Manehattan above the starry skyline, just flying around without a care in the world. I married him to make that last forever.”
“Except,” Discord pointed out, “it didn’t. Sure, the romantic setting was nice, and as much as those Romantics would want to tell you, it doesn’t last. All of that goes away, and what one is left with is their spouse in a different sort of mood. Even when Gallus turns cold and better against this hubby, Soarin won’t just go because of the faith that he held in foalhood – that maybe the ones he loves will magically change.”
The real Soarin winced at this.
“Gallus,” Discord told him, “take notes on this. Just to warn you, that the source of his stubborn faith comes from his family. As difficult as they may be, foals couldn’t just get rid of their caregivers, since they can’t go anywhere or do anything about it, Soarin had to settle on doing what other foals do pretty well in situations like this. Hope against all hope that the parents and siblings are on the edge of changing for the better. That as long as they hold on long enough, show that they’re good, polite, and obedient, then all the difficulties of the adults will change just like that! He will, once he gets married, carry that same faith onto his potential spouse. Because he’s never learned the art that will save his sanity – that good mental health involves having the capacity to give up on certain folks.”
“Hey! Wait a minute!” the real Soarin objected. “You can’t just give up on someone!”
“Oh?” Discord stretched his already long body over to him. “And why not?”
“Well for one, it’s the right thing to do. You have to give someone a second chance to grow. I mean look at you, the Elements gave you several chances to become better.”
“Yes,” Discord frowned, “because I’ve earned it. Whenever I slip up, I have to prove that I could evolve. Tell me, Soarin, how many times can you give someone another chance to change when every single time they refuse to move?” Soarin didn’t respond. “Unless you have the patience of a saint, most would probably give two, three, maybe five at most before they have no other choice but to walk away from them. I’m sorry to shatter your faith, but hopeless cases do exist. Trust me, I’ve encountered a few that are so traumatized in their past that they are glued to the floor. All giving someone unlimited chances to change and then they don’t despite the honeyed words proves is the very definition of insane.”
Then Discord craned his head back into place. “But back to the topic at hoof.”
Overhead where the cloud still remained, suddenly and unexpectedly, a rainbow bridge spewed out and landed next to the other Applejack. The bridge was obviously fake from being made out of wood, had hoofrailings, even a sign overhead is written in crayon. “Not the Bifröst,” it says. From it, another Rainbow Dash walked out from the cloud where other copies of Discords swarm around her, trying to get her autograph while the real Rainbow looked on with envy.
“Now this one needs no introduction, except that this one has an ego that would eclipse the sun, here she is – Freak number five!”
The other Rainbow Dash got off the fake rainbow stairs and bowed, “Thank you, thank you.”
“Folks, out of all the reasons why marriages fail, this one is probably the most fascinating. Listen to this,” he turned to the bowing pegasus that was blowing kisses, “Hey, other Rainbow Dash! Why did you get married?”
“Just… cause.”
Both the real Rainbow and Applejack looked at one another, their expressions shared the same level if skeptical disbelief.
“That doesn’t sound like me,” the real Rainbow pointed out.
“To be fair, it’s a little simplistic of an answer,” Discord replied, “because the actual reason here, is something far stranger yet, kinda sad at the same time. This one,” he pointed to the other Rainbow, “married to stop thinking about love.”
“… I don’t follow.”
“If we’re being bluntly honest, trying to find the right one for us… it’s such a huge headache. I mean the endless streams of parties, the boring dates, advertising yourself to have someone notice you, putting up with expensive drinks at bars, the one-night stands that go nowhere, the orgies that make you walk funny for a week – it’s downright exhausting! Having to pretend to be someone you’re not, saying all those cringy lovey-dovey words, emptying your bank account completely to impress someone, tolerating their family while being embarrassed about your own, the interrogation from your friends and family about when are you going to settle down… you get married, to make all of that stop. You get married to shut everyone up and hope that maybe you’d get some peace of mind.”
The real Applejack’s head slowly turned to her wife. Rainbow could feel her eyes trying to burn into her skull.
“Ah! Not here!” Discord called out, “If you’re going to fight, do it at the Argument attraction. But for now, is the least common reason why marriages go up in smoke. Please welcome her royal highness, Freak number six!”
A door was flung open in the darkness where an angelic choir welcomed in half a dozen Discord copies carrying a golden throne that had another Fluttershy on it. The very sight of which causes a few raised eyebrows from Silverstream and Gallus. Once the other Fluttershy was sat down in the ring with the other Silverstream, Discord turned to bow to her.
“So, to complete this show,” he addressed the other Fluttershy, “if you don’t mind of me asking, do you think you have the right to disappoint your spouse when needed?”
The other Fluttershy gasped, “Oh no! I can’t do that. If I disappoint anyone, that would make me as a bad lover.”
“At first, it may sound that this line of thinking has good intentions. However, sometimes the source of this comes from a place where one wants to preserve whatever good they got. There’s a fear with this, that if one starts a conflict, it just might make it worse. So, in desperation, they settle in swallowing their hurt in the name of preservation. It gets worse when they’re forced themselves to settle someone that isn’t good for them. After all, how could they turn down the love of another, even if it comes with poisonous elements? How, given how someone was, could they bring someone else to tears even if they had a reasonable complaint?”
The copies of the couples in the rings took hooves, announcing to their counterparts, “I want a divorce.” Suddenly, these copies collapsed like a tall house of cards, and all that was left of them were piles of playing cards.
“All of these reasons,” concluded Discord, “is more or less why you will or have married the wrong individual. To be fair, however, it’s not exactly anyone’s fault because no one has really had us take a closer look at how many of us, with all our insanities, would have on someone else. Sure, in a hundred years we might get it right, but for now, it’s best to realize the impulses we have that we need to give ourselves a reality check.”
Lesson 4 - Challenges of Marriage: Battle of the Arguments
Out of everything in this carnival, this one stuck out like a splinter in a hoof. It stood out because, on the outside, it looked like the kind school one would see in major cities like Canterlot or Manhattan. It was two stories tall, and it looked like it when through a war. Almost demolished by the missing walls, broken windows, holes in the roof, and arrows that were implied on it. Yet, at the same time, everywhere where there was once white brick, there was now splattered paint in every color, texture, and medium one could imagine. Around the building, there was a chain-link fence, where the only way in or out was through a booth that hangs full white painter suits and paint guns. Underneath a sign that said, “Battle of the Arguments,” was a copy bored-looking Discord in a striped shirt and straw hat.
However, upon seeing Filthy and Spoiled, Big Mac and Sugar Belle, and Fleur de Lis and Fancy Pants, his features lit up. He gave a loud whistle to get their attention, waving at them. “Hey! You six! Come here! Yes, this way!”
Fancy Pants raised an eyebrow, “What sort of horrid looking place is this?”
“Come here and I’ll tell you!” Discord called out, waving to them.
With morbid curiosity, the three couples walked up to the booth.
Discord smiled, “My, you lot look like you’re in the mood for having a good argument.”
Fleur looked shocked, “Excuse me?”
“Yes, you too! I can see it in all of you that you want to tell something to your lovey-dovey next to you. Yet, it looks like none of you know how to bring up your complaints so that they’ll listen. Well, folks, you’re in luck! Because that’s what this attraction is for.”
“Oh please,” Spoiled rolled her eyes. “My husband and I argue all the time, I think we know how to do it.”
“Ah, but are you sure that he knows what you’re trying to say?”
“Discord,” Big Mac interrupted. “Why are ya brin’ up arguments for?”
“As I said, we don’t know how to really ague. But I think you want me to go into detail?”
“That would be nice,” Sugar answered.
“Well then,” Discord smirked. “Here’s the thing – arguments aren’t something new, obviously. Yet, different societies in different time periods have approached it in unique ways – especially among married couples. For example, the Ancient Pegasi thought it was common sense that love as you know it was reserved for the more… how do I say… admirable or perfect sides of your spouse. Sure, you may tolerate, pity, and feel compassionate with their imperfections – but you don’t exactly love them for it. Because the ancient Pegasi saw marriage as a form of teaching. A forum where one partner would calmly teach the other how to become the best self they could be. If anything, there wasn’t much rage or bitterness when one says to the other – ‘I’ve noticed you’ve been eating like a cow’ – but if there is an argument, that meant that lesson has gone wrong.
“But I know that to your modern ears, this idea sounds plain weird. This is partly to blame from the Romantics that championed the idea that when you fall in love with your spouse, you should love everything about them – as they are – and there’s no need to give any feedback. In the short term, this is quite sweet, but in the long term, a catastrophe. The truth is, the longer you stay with anyone within earshot, the more you’ll notice their imperfections that won’t be seen as charming, or cute. Eventually, it’ll get on your nerves. But even when you do bring something up to them, they’ll just get offended. The very idea of getting feedback at all would compel your partner to say: ‘If you love me, you wouldn’t criticize me! Why can’t you love me as I am?’”
“Buddy, you won’t believe how many times I’ve heard that.” Rich nodded.
“At the same time,” Discord continued, “I can’t help but notice the same thing on a bigger scale. Arguments with whole countries, political parties, activists, communities, even our own families. Despite how both sides claiming that they knew what’s right, what the truth should be, and what should be done – something rather strange happens. Both sides debate, they argue, they shout, present their evidence, counter-arguments, and bring in experts – yet by the time they walk away – nothing has changed. Both sides are more convinced than ever before that they’re right, the other guy’s wrong, and that’s how it should be forever and ever – amen. Despite all the points they brought up, they wonder, how come the other insists that it is we who are insane? I mean, we’ve been taught in school that the one who makes the stronger argument should win, right? So why isn’t it happening here?
“Well folks, the answer lies in a strange-sounding but very probable source – we don’t really know how to argue constructively. Oh sure, some of us know how to use it as a demolition tool, but when it comes to creating something out of it? Most of us don’t have a clue.”
“Argue… constructively?” Fancy Pants blinked. “Pardon me, but I don’t think I quite grasp what you’re saying. Maybe it’s because Fleur and I don’t argue.” This got some strange looks from the other two couples. “What?”
“You two don’t argue?” Filthy questioned. “At all?”
“It’s not that we don’t have any objections,” Fleur explained, “but we don’t get into fights like other couples… To be honest, it’s partly the reason why we’re here.”
“And all the more reason to undergo this,” Discord said, grabbing one of the white bodysuits off a peg and handing it up to them. “Have any of you played paint tag?” They shook their heads. “First you put this thing on, then three of you would enter here to give a head start before the rest follows in. Shoot your partner the right way, and the game’s over.” Smirking, he added, “at the same time, I did leave a few things that should help you play the game correctly.”
Sugar Belle craned her neck over the counter of the booth. “But where’s the paint? I see the gun things, but where the paintballs?”
Discord chuckled. “Don’t be so silly, all of you have them already. Just… use your words, and you have your ammo.”
“So let me get this straight,” Spoiled inquired, “all we have to do is go inside that,” she pointed to the school, “dressed like that,” then pointed towards the suits, “where we just shoot each other?” Discord nodded. “What’s the catch?”
“Well apart from this being mandatory, once you enter the shooting grounds, there’s a spell that prevents anyone from leaving until both of you get shot by some colorful words. However, there is a way to do it, so I’ve placed a few things here and there that should help you know what to do.”
Big Mac glanced over at the paint-covered school. “Well… Ah guess it’s only paint.”
“That’s the spirit!” Discord gave the suit over to him. “How about we give the males a head start?”
Filthy sighed, his hoof extended for a suit of his own, “Let’s get this over with.”
Discord gave out the suits that covered each pony from hoof to their necks in white. While the head was a plastic clear covering for them to see out. As well as a device at their necks that allowed them to talk and breathe.
Once Discord distributed a paint gun to each of them, he waved a paw at the school. “You have about five minutes.” He told them. The stallions galloped over the paint-covered ground and through the school doors. Once they were out of sight, Discord snapped his talons, to which three poloid photographs appeared. He was showing them the backs of them which read in felt mark pen: Top Secret. “Oh! I almost forgot! You ladies need some ammo before going in. So here.” He let the photos float over to them.
From the mare’s reactions, they ranged from shock to (in Spoiled’s case) rage.
“I KNEW IT!” Spoiled threw the picture on the ground, and before she could charge head on to confront her husband, she instantly stopped as she felt something yanking at her tail. It was Discord.
“Ah, ah, ah!” He waved a talon. “Give them five minutes, then you could shoot them.”
The three stallions split up as soon as they entered the building. Almost every inch of the abandoned school was splattered, dribbled, streaked, lined, and slotted with every color of paint one could imagine. In every direction from the floor to the ceiling, there was no pattern anywhere in this abstract nightmare.
Yet, as Filthy went down a hallway, he could have sworn that those other groups might have been here before. There were hoofprints on the floor. And the walls had outlines of ponies that got hit with something much bigger than a standard paintball. He was uncertain of what exactly to go or do. At first, there wasn’t anything noticeable that would give him a clue.
Until his eye caught something as he was passing through a door. Walking in, he found the remains of a school library. Two stories big with an iron rail balcony and a spiral staircase in the corner, the library was in the same sad state as the rest of the school. Abandoned with rotten books and shelves that were covered in paint. However, what caught his attention was the movie projector and screen that was left untouched.
‘Could this thing be what he was talking about?’ Filthy wondered, approaching the mechanism. Walking around it, he spotted a bright yellow sticky note with an arrow and the words Play Me, written on it. The arrow pointed to a red button on the top of the projector. He concluded that it must be what Discord meant, so he pressed it.
The projector came to life with a rapped clicking sound, music at first warped out from it, where both the film and the sound came up to speed. At first, there was some sappy violin music that showed a black-and-white image of a heart, along with the words in cursive: “Anatomy of an Argument.” It then cut to Discord, his back against the camera, jotting something on a chalkboard. He turns around as if noticing the camera that was turned on.
“Why, hello there. I’m an underpaid actor,” the Discord on the film said. “If you are watching this film, it can only mean that you and a very special someone is about to have a hissy-fit royal. But before that could happen, let’s ask ourselves – how do these sorts of arguments happen? Has my love gone crazy? Why are they shouting and treating me like I’m worst that Discord McHandsome?
“But as crazy as it sounds, these arguments don’t just pop right out of nowhere. Yes, even those unexpected ones have a source. Take this one.”
“FILTHY!” The echoes of Spoiled’s shrilling voice shook Filthy with dread. He knew that tone, she was coming. “YOU CHEATING ROTTING WHORSE HANDLING BASTARD, COME ON OUT YOU COWARD!”
Filthy’s first instinct was to hide. But where? Looking around, he spotted the balcony up above where there were short bookshelves that blocked one's view. Seeing this as the perfect hiding spot, he galloped up the spiral staircase and dove behind those shelves.
“Now while you’re taking cover up there,” Discord from the movie projector continued, “you need to pay attention now. If you want any hope of getting out of here with your head still attached to the rest of your body, you would need to listen to what I have to say.
“At first, arguments may seem chaotic, having no rhyme or reason attached as two or more individuals go at each other’s throats. But ask a headshrinker, and they will tell you that arguments go through five phases.”
Filthy stayed silent, his ears perked up to listen carefully at the hoof steps outside of the room.
“First, when it’s brought up. In most relationships, we don’t see the need to be the teacher or the student. Because of this, we don’t see what the other is trying to say as them teaching as legitimate. If it were in a classroom setting, this might be different. However, these so-called teaching moments come about at the worst of moments. Like when we had a long day at work, or that we had a bad day, stressed out, frustrated, angry, or scared. The reason why your spouse is bringing this up now is from the fear that if they don’t do it right this instant, then nothing will be put right.”
With sounds of hoofsteps getting closer, Filthy double checked to make sure he couldn’t be spotted by his wife.
“Second, at the heart of every argument, there’s the idea of: ‘Oh crap! I think my spouse is an idiot! Who doesn’t understand very basic, very important stuff that matters to me! And they’re not listening!’ I don’t care who you are, that is a terrifying thought. So much so, that when one gets into that state of mind, their suffering is placed dead center of the universe to the point where they don’t have the energy to see it from the other’s point of view.”
Filthy stiffened as he heard the unmistakable sound of Spoiled entering into the Library. “Where are you!” the mare demanded, “I know you’re in here!”
The Discord on the screen continued. “Not that misses will hear me this, but I suppose if my timing is right, Spoiled Rich is in the room.”
“You… what?” curious, Filthy took a cautious peek from his hiding spot. His wife now had her attention to the screen.
“As I was saying,” Discord said, adjusting a black and white tie. “The third phase is the confrontation. Those who confront their spouse honestly believe that the best way to get your significant other to magically change is to give them that correct info or a new way of doing things. That as long as you have a handle on the truth or what really needs to be done, then there’s no need for persuasion, right? Just force it down their throats, and they will fly right just like that.” Discord snapped his paw. “Sadly, I have some news for the wife that’s on the warpath. If you’re actually listening, you probably think that the best way to discipline your soon to be Exe – or the so-called ‘idiot’ – is to scream at the top of your lungs, belittle how stupid they are, call ‘em the worst names you could think of, crush him into paste underneath your massive ego, and get him to surrender to your will. Right?”
“You’re not part of this!” Spoiled shouted, aimed her paint gun at the screen and when she pulled the trigger, she was flung back with blue and yellow paint hitting her. Causing her to fall back in shock. “WHAT THE HAY!?”
“While you’re laying there in shock,” Discord on the screen continued. “You’re experiencing something that most tend to forget when they go for that approach. You might think that the best way to force your hubby to become a more honest pony is to yell at him until he changes, right? But the surprising truth is that doing so could actually do squat.”
In anger, Spoiled flipped her paint gun again, and upon firing – she hit herself in orange paint, seemingly harder as she groaned on the floor.
“You are currently experiencing something called – the Backfire Effect. Since you presented your argument in such a firry tone, the more you use that, the more likely your husband isn’t going to listen to what you have to say. But just like you, he’s not going to hear whatever you wanted to say, but he will know that he feels he’s being attacked. Which, fun fact, the experience of being told that you’re wrong, or doing it wrong, or you’ve messed up hurts so much, it triggers the same area of the brain as physical pain.”
Spoiled got up. “C’mon! They’re only words! Words can’t hurt.”
“Sorry to break this to you, but they can. As much as you want to convince yourself that you and your cheating husband are creatures of logic and reasons – sorry, you’re not. When it comes to hearing difficult info, emotion travels faster than logical thought. That’s why he’ll feel the pain of your words first before he could process what exactly you’re saying.”
“Oh really?” Spoiled questioned sarcastically, “And what about those times he lied that he wasn’t having an affair with the sectary? All those times he said he didn’t?”
“Simple, he’s afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Tell me, if an insane bloodthirsty pony came up to you to demand: ‘Where’s the ax? Where’s the ax?’ do you just tell the truth and tell ‘em where it is?”
“Well… no.”
“Why not?”
“Because that pony would use the ax on me.”
Discord nodded. “What Filthy is afraid of is that if he did really tell the truth, you might use that as a weapon against him to hack him into pieces. To him, just giving you the honest facts might as well be like committing suicide.
“Which leads to the fifth stage. Since no one, in the history of Pony-kind, has ever learned by being made like an insignificant, idiotic, damnable fool that’s being bullied into annihilation. The moment when you, the teacher tries to get across your idiot of a student try to belittle them like this – guess what? You’re done! It’s over! Bye-bye! Put everything away! The lesson is over. You cannot expect for someone to change just by telling them that they’re too stupid to change.”
Spoiled rolled her eyes, “Oh, and I guess you have a better way to deal with a heartless husband?”
Refusing to be in hiding anymore, Filthy took aim at his wife’s head, “I’m not the one who’s heartless you bi-” was as far as he got with his muttering before pulling the trigger, and the paint gun fired in his face. Slamming him against a bookshelf.
Spoiled turned around, spotting him, “There you are!” she took aim, and the paint gun fired back in her face, once again knocking her over. On the ground, she angrily wiped the paint off the plastic helmet. “What the actual HAY Discord! Why did you give us paint guns that don’t even work!”
Discord on the film chuckled. “Well I did say that your words are ammo, right? And I did mention that this place has a spell preventing anyone from exiting unless they have the right sort of argument. I guess I might have forgotten to mention that if you use your words incorrectly, it will backfire on ya.”
“So, let me get this straight,” Filthy said, trying to get up. “Ya put us in a situation where you want us to argue – but not argue?”
“I said you need to learn the art of arguing constructively. If I allow the both of you to just yell at one another, call each other the worst things you could think of at the top of your lungs – why it’d be as useless as you getting out of a building without knowing how to use a key to get through the side door.”
Spoiled got so fed up that she threw her paint gun to the ground. “Well, how are we supposed to do it! He cheated on me! He hurt me!”
“And the thing is – you’re correct.”
“Damn right I’m…” she blinked. “What did you say?”
“In your hurt, you’re correct. But something tells me…” Discord started to walk through the screen, still in black-and-white, he stepped out from the film and into the library with them. “This isn’t the first time you felt hurt and your response is to explode, isn’t it?”
“What? No-”
“Yes.” Filthy folded his forelegs. “It’s practically one of the many reasons why I wanted a divorce. She yells and complains for hours over something so tinny. Last week, she ranted four a good forty-five minutes over the servants using a different kind of fabric softener. Fabric softener! And she treated it like it was the most important thing in the world!”
“Yet, do you know why?” the black-and-white Discord inquired. “Hey Spoiled, do you always get angry on a daily basis?”
“Of course not!” Spoiled scoffed. “I don’t do it often.”
“But with someone having such high expectations, you must get surprised when things don’t go your way?”
“Well… Where are you going with this?”
“Filthy,” Discord turned to him, “I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Your wife’s rage does have a source. It’s a reaction when one has bottled up their irritations for too long when their best hopes get repeatedly smashed to often that all it takes – is a spark. Look behind the blaming, the shouting, the belittling insults, the attempt to crush you into oblivion, and you’ll find someone who is deeply scarred.”
“Excuse me?” Spoiled was taken aback. “Me? Afraid? Over what?”
“Fear that your vulnerability would go ignored, or worse, be laughed at.” Discord smirked. “Sure, it could spark from something so tinny, but that alone could unleash days, weeks, perhaps centuries worth of buildup resentment. All it takes is a minor thing, a slight to your dignity that would cut so deep, unsettle you so much, that the only way out is roar out of humiliation. Yes, your barking insults are loud, but all that have their roots in fear. You’re afraid that the one that you placed so much trust in won’t ever hear the pain you’re going through.
“At the same time,” Discord pointed over to Filthy. “You might believe that just belittling your husband is going to make him see the light – however, it’s the quickest way to stop listening to you. Why, to him, your ranting insults are clear signs that you must be insane – not hurt.” With his claw/paw behind his back, he slowly walked towards Filthy, “Frankly, your presentation of a murderous rampage just only proves it.” Spoiled was about to say something when he held up his tail, “But to be fair, you see the exact same thing with Filthy too.”
“Now hang on!” Filthy objected, “Of course I listen to my wife when she’s angry.”
“Do you?” Discord questioned, hopping on top of one of the creaking bookshelves. “Okay then, is she right in her accusations?” Filthy didn’t dare speak, instead, he looked away from both of them. “Yes, she may deliver the truth without any honeyed words. But at the same time, I do get why you want to deny it. Her anger of overplaying her cards from accusing you from doing a bad thing to being a bad pony gives all the excuse you need to stop listening. Is it? Just hearing it is all you need to roll your eyes, avoid any self-examination, and conclude that she’s both mean and crazy.”
“But it’s… more than that.” This got Spoiled’s attention.
“Indeed, there is.” Discord agreed, flying up to the railing. “Like her, you too are scared. You’re afraid that you won’t be listened to either. That you’re being forced to evolve and grow up before you’re ready to do so like getting an infant to hold on a nine to five job. Then again, it’s not the accusation itself, isn’t it? You should know your own flaws already, but you can’t bear to hear it in such an unsympathetic way. You want to deny, because you’re terrified of being crushed, proved that you’re worthless, and until you force yourself to make that painful change then that forgiveness you carve will be denied. You deny because you don’t need to give your self-hatred more fuel.”
“Uh… wow…” Spoiled rubbed the back of her neck. “You know when you put it like that… Suddenly a lot of stuff makes sense.”
Filthy sighed, “So… what do you expect us to do? You said the only way is to argue constructively. So how do we do that?”
“Oh, there’s so much I could say,” Discord answered, “but to hit all the high points, there are a few things you need to hold onto: first, let go of thinking that you or your spouse is perfect. Look, I get in the early days Spoiled may once upon a time seemed like the mare that would make Celestia look like dirt, but she’s not. And neither would anyone else that you’ll come across. You both need to know that since neither of you is perfect, neither of you are blameless. You two are just as flawed as the other.
“Second, choose the best moment to bring this up. Don’t wait until both of you are tired, or have too much to drink, or didn’t get enough sleep. The best way to confront someone when they will listen is when both of you are calm. If neither of you is, follow this rule – wait until tomorrow.
“Third, tone is everything. Ask Pinkie Pie or her husband, and they will tell you that to a comedian, how you tell a joke is everything to get a laugh. So too with handling difficult info. Filthy, your employees at the complaint desk should know that to handle a customer, it’s got to be ninety-nine percent honey, and a tiny, tiny, tiny bit of criticism. ‘I love this, I like that, this is good, that’s brilliant, that’s fascinating, that’s wonderful, so about that…’ that’s how you do it. With tone, there are two ways of getting your message across so that the other will listen. Either with comedy – or with a decoration of hurt. With comedy, you can get your loved one to see things in what they’re doing that they can laugh at, but still draw attention towards without getting offended. But, if you want to get something that you feel hurt by, do something that sounds easy, but difficult to do in practice.”
“Like what?” Spoiled asked.
“In your case, ma’am, instead of going at your husband with sharpened, poison-tipped words of ‘You’re a monster for cheating on me,’ try something that wouldn’t make it easy for him to get out of. Use a different approach that wouldn’t get him to block his ears. Say along the lines of ‘I'm hurt that you did this to me.’ And with proper courage follow it up with: ‘And I feel scared that you hurt me for being vulnerable to you.’”
Spoiled shook her head. “It would never work. If I did, Filthy would use it against me for being weak.”
“No,” Filthy said, taking off his plastic helmet, leaving his whole head exposed. “I wouldn’t. As much as I don’t want to admit this – Discord’s right. If I learned anything in all of this is that the way we argue, we don’t get a prize for trying to win. Sure, you might get satisfaction, but is breaking up a marriage with it?”
Spoiled huffed, “You do know this still doesn’t mean that I’m going to forgive you.”
Picking this up, Discord hopped down from the bookshelf, walked over to the paint gun that Spoiled had thrown away to give it back to her. “I think you know what to say.”
She aimed at her husband. “Filthy,” she said, dignified but stern, “I’m mad at you because… you hurt me. You promised you wouldn’t look at another mare after we got hitched and now…” She took a moment to not lose her composure, “You… I feel betrayed. A-And I’m scared you won’t learn a thing after all this.”
She took a shot.
And a blue paintball hit on Filthy’s withers.
Smiling, the black-and-white Discord turned back to the flickering screen. “Filthy, I think you know what to say from here.” He said, climbing back into the film before the film officially ran out, showing only light on the screen.
Filthy picked up his paint gun, aimed it at Spoiled. “You know what hurts me the most?” he asked. “I placed so much trust in you too. That may be, the mare I married would evolve from being at the center of the universe and instead become kinder, especially when Diamond was born. The thing is, I wanted to reconnect, I wanted to bring back those times when we dated. But you become so distant that I became lonely. I do feel hurt that I’ve been left ignored. It got to the point Spoiled where I felt that I couldn’t even talk to you. That’s why, among so many things that I want this divorce, I’m scared that you’ll never change either.”
He took the shot.
And several yellow paintballs hit her.
Spoiled took off her plastic helmet. “I’m glad we at least agreed on something.” She said coldly.
“Fancy!” Fleur called out. No answer. “Fancy, come out!” She listened carefully as she walked down the school’s decayed, paint-splattered hall. In her aura, she held her paint gun and the polaroid. The photograph showed Fancy’s hooves were in one hoof was a receipt that dated last year. The other was what he bought – a diamond ring. “Fancy, where are you?”
Her ears perked up. There was a small metallic sound that came from behind her. Craning her neck over to a pair of double doors, she turned around and pushed herself in. By the looks of it, this room was the school’s cafeteria. Like the rest of the building, the room was coated in random Pollock-like paints that covered the broken black-and-white floor to the tall broken windows. However, there was a noticeable barricade of tables in the corner of the room.
Fleur readied her paint gun. “So when were you going to purpose?” She asked suddenly.
From behind the barricade, there was a surprised scream and a few crashes before Fancy peeked his head out. “How in blazes did you-” Fleur showed him the picture.
“You had the ring on you for over a year and you never said anything!” Fleur bitterly questioned. “Were you just ‘Oh-so-busy’ that you can’t find the time to ask me?”
“I-I wasn’t sure when was the right time.”
“We’ve been dating for almost twelve years! What? You couldn’t find a spot in your schedule?” She asked sarcastically. “That you couldn’t figure out to place your proposal between the billionth charity auction and running Canterlot? That you couldn’t spend – what – a minute or two at most to ask if you wanted to marry me?”
“What? You didn’t think I was tired?” Fancy replied. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to get in at the right moment when you’re either too tired, too stressed, too ‘I-don’t-want-to-talk-about-it,’ that I couldn’t sit you down? I know you’re still my bodyguard, but can you blame me when you come home from your ‘Exhausting day.’” He added sarcastically.
Before either couple could add anything else, they were cut off when across from them, a small panel of metal divider suddenly rolled up. Revealing Discord in a lunch-mare outfit, complete with a mane-net, a splattered apron, and banging the side of a tall pot with a ladle. “Soup’s up! Come get your truth while it’s hot!”
Fleur and Fancy blinked. “Discord,” Fleur inquired, “what are you doing?”
“Remember a while back that you’ll run into clues in how to get out of here? Welp, here I am!” Taking a few bowls from his mane-net, Discord dipped his ladle into dish out a dark brown soup. “Come and get it!”
Curious, the couple got off the barricade and went over to where the bowls were. “What is it?” Fancy inquired; his expression uncertain by the broth.
“Truth soup, it’s your current relationship’s flavor.” Discord answered, putting a spoon in each bowl.
Taking the plastic covering from her head, Fleur’s horn lit up to grab the spoon from one of the bowls. She sniffed the broth before carefully tasting it. Her eyes went wide before spitting it out. “Blach! It’s bitter!”
“Just like your approach to arguments,” Discord folded his arms. “Cold, bitter, tasteless, and something that should be avoided at all cost.” Taking the bowls back to dump them into the pot, he added. “Still, like this soup, your approach to an argument has the same source.”
“In what way?” Fancy inquired; his eyebrow raised.
“Well… to stretch the allegory here,” Discord said, flipping a few switches to light a small flame underneath the pot. “Think of a good, constructive argument like preparing soup. If you want it to get it to taste right so that the other would eat it up, you have to perform a balancing act. Where it’s neither too hot that will scold, but not too cold where it becomes uneditable. And it’s not just temperature either, how you prepare your soup to taste like is incredibly important too.” He reached over for a bottle of honey, salt, pepper, and butter. “For instance, you ma’am said this soup was too bitter, do you know why?”
“Uh…” Fleur’s eyes darted, trying to search for an answer. “I don’t know.”
“Well what about bitterness,” Discord opened the lid of the honey to pour some of it into the soup; all the while stirring continuously with his tail, “towards Fancy, I mean. Do you know what bitterness means? It’s a big, grown-up word that means: ‘rage that’s been muffled by shame.’ That’s why it’s so cold and sarcastic. Because as much as you want to raise a complaint, paradoxically, deep down, there’s a sense that you don’t have the right to give a protest towards the one you love. Even if they have something legitimate to complain about.”
He held out a paw to stop her from interrupting while putting the butter in the soup, just as it was starting to simmer. “I’m not talking about the silent treatment either, because it doesn’t relate to your case entirely. If either of you stepped back and take a closer look, you’d realized that both of you are doing this too. That you’re airing your complaints underneath a bedrock of compliance. Look beneath the wintery sarcasm, and you’d find someone who feels as if they’re being neglected emotionally in the hooves of someone they cared about.”
Fancy was taken aback by this. “Neglectful? But I would never be…” He looked over at Fleur, her face had a hurt expression. “Have I without realizing it?”
“Possible.” Discord shrugged while continued to stir with his tail. “Still, this approach to an argument isn’t helpful either. But to be fair, Fancy, while you hear this stuff from Fleur, it’s clear you know that she’s are upset. But this approach doesn’t do her complaint justice, nor tugged at your heartstrings with her dependence and vulnerability towards you. All it does is to think of her making the protest as a pain. Naturally, this too goes both ways. Luckily, there are a few ways to help warm those wintery words and get your soupy argument taste just right.”
Stopping for a moment to taste the soup, Discord judged the amount of salt and pepper that should go in. “To borrow something I once taught, you ever noticed that around foals, very young ones especially, that grown-ups give generous interpretations to their behavior. Like, say at dinner when parents put a plate of broccoli down in front of their kid where it screams and tosses the plate across the room. What do you think the parent’s response is?”
“Well…” Fleur thought for a moment, “you can’t hit the foal, nor yell back at it as it wouldn’t do much good.”
Discord nodded, “Instead, they come up with a range of explanations like maybe the kid’s got a sore tooth, or that they didn’t get enough sleep last night, or perhaps is jealous of their little sister hogging every toy the kid has. Oddly, this is the opposite when it comes to grown-ups. We think that they’re doing these horrible things because they intended to do so. The Prench philosopher named Inmilo Gustachtie, aka, Ella, was said to be one of the greatest teachers in Prance; he came up with an idea to help calm himself and his students down when confronting irritating folks. ‘Never say that ponies are evil,’ he says, ‘you just need to look for the pin.’ What he meant was to look for the source of the hurt that drives even a good person to behave in terrible ways.”
Taking a moment to taste the soup, Discord added a little more salt. “Another thing you both need to realize – is that as much as you want to get the other to become better, do keep in mind that most concede not when they’ve been told they’re wrong or did a bad thing, but when they feel loved. Most ponies get stubborn and withhold the truth not because we’re mean, but when we’re scared and suspect that the spouse challenging you, hates your guts, means to hurt and humiliate you, will never forgive, and who knows, is about to pack up and leave. It’s essential to bullace your criticism with the assurance that you still love them.”
“But I do love Fancy,” Fleur objects.
Discord raised an eyebrow, “Then how come a few minutes ago it sounded like you didn’t? Remember, like seasoning,” he tasted the soup again, this time added a little pepper, “the tone of your words can mean a whole world of difference between coming off as heartless and heartful. Even a few spoonsful of sugar can make all the difference between drinking hot water and tea.
“Oh, and one more thing,” Discord added before dishing the bowls again, “as a friendly reminder for the both of you – as shocking as it sounds – your adults. Both of you do, in fact, have a right to complain, and do so civilly. I know you’re in pain but go for the extra effort and have an imagination before snowballing your partner with icy words. Alright?” They nodded. “Soup’s up.” Placing the bowls down with a spoon in each, Discord closed the metal divider, leaving both of them once again alone.
Fancy took off his plastic helmet so he could taste the soup. “For cafeteria food,” he remarked, “this is exquisite.”
“Uh… Fancy?” Fleur inquired. “Look… about what happened a moment ago… I was just upset and hurt back there and wasn’t thinking straight. So… can we start this again?”
Fancy put his spoon down and nodded.
Taking in a coming breath, Fleur began. “In hindsight, we’ve been both busy and barely had any time together from the past few years. You didn’t have time for me because – I can assume – that I didn’t have time for you either. Looking at it now, that was completely unfair for both of us. I was mad because knowing that you had the ring on you for over a year and you never brought it up is… disheartening. Especially when at any time I could have said yes.”
Fancy’s eyes widened, “Fleur-”
“Let me finish,” she interrupted, “I just realized that maybe… I wasn’t as perfect for you as I thought. I mean… considering we kinda had our first argument and… Look, if you decided to break up with me right now, I promise that I won’t hold it against you.”
“Fleur is there’s anyone here that should apologize, it’s me. Frankly, you’re right. I suppose I have been neglectful in this relationship, so that doesn’t make me a suitable candidate for you either. I suppose that, if I had the ring with me right now and I… asked you – then I wouldn’t be hurt if you said no.”
“Wait, where is that ring?”
“I left it in Canterlot… sorry.”
The metal divider rolled up again, “Ach! Enough of this sweet talk,” Discord said, starching his paw/claw over to the paint guns and handed back to them while putting their plastic covers over their heads, “just say what needs to be said, fire at each other and then you can get out of here.” With that, he slammed it shut again.
Fancy sighed, “I guess it’s good as time than ever,” he sat down on his haunches, “I know I don’t have the ring with me right now. And I realized that I’m not that perfect stallion that you wanted me to be. I guess I still need to learn that I can bring up my objections without being bitter. If you’re willing to teach me, I’m willing to learn. So,” he aimed at Fleur’s withers, “if given the chance, would you marry a stallion like me?” And shot a pink paintball at her.
She smiled and aimed. “I’m not so innocent either, so I guess I need to learn how to be a better pony too. And as to your question, no, I won’t marry anyone,” then she shot him, “just you.”
It didn’t take long for Sugar Belle to find Big Mac. She found him on the second floor in one of the empty, paint-covered classrooms. When she found him, he didn’t try to fight nor protect himself from her confrontation. When Sugar found him, he didn’t even raise his paint gun even though hers was raised. It was obvious on Mac’s face that he was mortified by the picture in her hoof that his wife confronted with; however, despite his wife’s questioning, Mac didn’t say anything.
“…. We promised each other that we would have no more secrets!” Sugar Belle said, her voice neither furious nor bitter, but crackled underneath the weight of her crushing heartbreak. Even when tears rolled from her eyes, she kept the accusations coming. “I can’t believe that you would hide this from me! That you never once said anything about this!”
Although clearly shamed, Big Mac didn’t reply.
“Mac, since the day we got married, we shared everything. I moved in with you, I told you about my family, my time in Our Town when Starlight run it, and even all the difficult days that I came to you for. I shared my darkest secrets with you, so how come you never once said anything about this?”
“Because he doesn’t know how.” Discord’s voice was heard all over the classroom.
“What?” Sugar Belle looked around. “Where are you?”
“You can’t see me? Wait, hold on…” All around the broken classroom, the confusion of paint leaked and moved from floor to ceiling towards the chalkboard. A multi-colored blob was collected there, and it formed a claw that stretched out, then a long torso, a neck, Discord’s face including his mane and antlers, and his lion paw. “Would you hold on a sec? I need to stabilize for a moment…” He pulled and stretched, trying to break away from the paint blob from the wall until he broke free from it. “There we go,” the paint Discord said, “not my best entrance I’ve ever made, but certainly a memorable one.”
“Discord, what are you doing?” Sugar Belle questioned.
“Well, you remember that guy at the gate that said you’ll run into a clue. Welp, here I am! And by the looks of it, you might need my help.”
“What are you talking about? I don’t need your help; I think I got a handle of this.”
“Really? You sound like you’ve done this before.”
“I’ve already had plenty of arguments with Big Mac in the past, I think I know how this goes.”
Discord stroked his purple and orange goatee. “Tell you what, I’ll go away if you answer me this one question.”
“And what’s that?”
“Think about all the times you’ve ever had those arguments with your husband, including during the times you dated him. When’s the last time can you ever recall him talking back to you – ever – at all?”
Sugar Belle rolled her eyes. “That’s easy, he…” She trailed off. Her mind went blank. “Well…” Big Mac took notice of her hesitation. As much as she went through her memories of every argument she could recall, she remembered that she did all the talking but Mac… “Uh…” Macintosh never said anything back.
“I thought so,” Discord replied, his paint dripping arms folded behind his back. “As much as you love to use your hubby as a verbal punching bag, you ever noticed that Mac rarely gets truly angry enough to raise a complaint. And I’m not talking about your frustrated sighs or the annoyed looks either. In fact, when can you ever recall him ever raising a complaint to you since you’ve met him?”
Sugar looked over to her husband for a moment. “He… never.”
“What if I told you there’s a reason for that; and it’s much more common than you think,” Sugar asked what Discord meant. “Take your husband here. Sure, he may look like you average nice guy who doesn’t say much, but he’s showing a common behavior when it comes to arguments. Some call it the silent treatment, but that’s not accurate. This is known as Silent Cold Fury. It’s a state a mind where one is completely unable to get angry or raise a complaint in fear that it might ruin a relationship and their loved ones won’t ever understand. Even if his complaints he wants to raise are genuine. Despite how much you would like to blame, or shout at him, or toss a bitter remark his way, as a defense mechanism in his mind, he sees it safe to stay quiet and wait until your stormy emotions pass.
“Now don’t get me wrong,” the dripping Discord said, patting Big Mac on the back, leaving an imprint of yellow and green on him. “It’s not like he never gets angry period, but he’s very good at keeping it out from public view. He may be quiet, but the truth is that he hates very deeply. Only, that said hatred has nowhere to go but back inside; that’s where a good dose of depression comes from. Why would he do that? Because his self-hatred comes from a belief that deep down, he doesn’t deserve to be listened to at all. You might say your husband’s a kung-fu master at the art of withdrawal.”
“But…” Sugar Belle glanced over at her husband who turned away. “I don’t understand, why would he do this?”
“Well, how about I paint a picture for you – three of them.” The paint-covered Discord walked over to a corner of the classroom in which he threw himself on. Dragging himself across a wall where he quickly painted a huge mural depicting three scenes. On the outset, the style was Impressionistic with its bright colors, quick but broad-brush strokes, and in each scene depicted Big Mac at various ages. When Discord pulled himself together from the other corner of the room, he stood proudly at what he created. “Do you like it? I call it: ‘How to Lose your Voice.’”
Big Mac looked up at what Discord had created. On the left there was a picture of him, his sisters with an infant Appleboom and Granny Smith standing over two newly dug graves, their heads bowed low. In the center was him and Granny in the orchard, baskets of apples full and Granny turning her head and raising a hoof in anger, mouth open, and tears in her eye. The third on the right was him and his sister Applejack at the Hospital’s operating theater.
Macintosh stomped a hoof. “How… dare you.” He said through his teeth. “How can you be this cruel?”
Before the stallion could march out, Discord blocked his way. “Ah-ah-uh!” He waved his talon at him. “This might not be pleasant for you, but believe me as a copy of your friend, you need this as much as your wife does. If you want a tolerable life from now on to let her know where you’re coming from – this needs to be addressed or it will haunt you for the rest of your life.”
“Mac,” Sugar lend a comforting hoof around his neck, “what is all this?”
“Well, I’m glad you asked,” Discord said, strolling over to the first mural on the left. “Big Macintosh Apple’s silence has a source. Once upon a time, there was a chatterbox of a colt who thought and felt much about life on the farm and in general. His head was chock full of things he would gladly talk about from his day at school to suggestions on how to improve the workings of the farm. It didn’t matter what it was, he said what was on his mind from his thoughts of how the world moved, to his tricky emotions on a Sunday evening, even complaining of his monstrous task of chores he has to do on a daily basis.
“But regardless of what was on his mind, Mac was glad that his parents at least listened to what he had to say.
“Until, shortly after little Applebloom was born, his parents unexpectedly passed away. In one fell swoop, it unlocked a chain of events that turned Big Mac’s world upside down and backward. Now he was in the hooves of caregivers, his grandma and slightly younger sister Applejack that, through no fault of their own, became a little too touchy, too busy, domineering, or outright absent to give so much as a hearing to what Macintosh had to say. Which was understandable from the outset, the main providers of the farm had passed away, flinging them into an uncertain future where now they have to pick up the slack. Almost overnight,” he pointed to the picture, “our tragic hero was forced to be too good, too soon, and he began to have to resign his point of view without a flicker of self-defense.”
Discord walked over to the next mural. “During such a difficult time, in the hooves of a family that had a constant fear that the farm could collapse at any day, there was a good amount of tension. The stress got the best of Granny and Applejack, having to juggle between taking care of a farm, each other, and an infant that hearing any suggestions on how to do their work was more than what they could cope with. As a colt around Granny, Mac learned how to swallow his agony of feeling ignored while seething inside, acted with a fragile courtesy but hidden aggression against her and Applejack that had done him wrong. For the colt, it would almost be seen as an insult to his family to raise an issue that he probably didn’t fully understand. Thus, the difficult moods, the tantrums, complaints, and rages that he would have as a foal, his Granny made it quite clear that those sorts of things should be edited out.”
He then walked over to the next mural. “Not to say that he couldn’t take it all out on Applejack. For a while, he was able to argue, quite loudly, and using a lot of words. It was indeed unpleasant, but at least it was the only way he could fully talk about what was on his mind. Until, one day through an incident where Applejack went behind the family’s back, lied to their Granny, and almost got Mac’s hoof sawed-off, that a dangerous idea formed in Macintosh’s mind. Sure, he adopted the good quality of listening more, but in doing so, he accepted that maybe he got into such a situation because it is he, not Applejack or Granny, who are bad. Like so many unfortunate foals, Big Mac couldn’t imagine that the ones that were taking care of him could be selfish, mean, absent, or an undeserving mediocrity. Such an idea wasn’t possible! ‘Better ta think yer a monster that tries to be the obedient, selfless good colt that doesn’t complain at all, than ta accuse them of bein’ bad.’ Thus, ever since, the chatty Big Macintosh lost his voice.”
He turned to Sugar Belle, “You might have thought your husband was the nicest stallion in the world. But the reason why he is what he is, it’s because he’s learned not to say everything – that’s why he seems so nice. And before you accuse him of being a big fat liar for not saying anything to you – he’s not. Mac is nice but being nice isn’t what you think it is. Early on, he had to make a choice between being honest and authentic to what’s on his mind, or be loved. He chose to be loved. This is because being nice isn’t an achievement of having no bad thoughts or wanting to do bad things – it’s an achievement of repression. All he’s learned is to keep all these tricker sides of himself quiet. He would rather inconvenience himself than to have the audacity to upset anyone – especially you.”
“Those who have tha most ta complain about,” Big Mac said, very quietly, almost under his breath, “are those who don’t say a word.”
Discord nodded, “The sad truth is Sugar, doing this to a colt before he’s an adult, it may give you short-term compliance, but those who grow up like that into adulthood… Well… Let’s just say you’ve married a ticking time bomb. If you’re really lucky, on your husband’s side, he would tend to be taken royally for a ride for decades without giving the slightest protest. This is fueled by a low-level humiliation and taken-for-granted-ness that couldn’t inconvenience others to make a fuss. All of this overemphasis of being the polite, empathetic, and gentle stallion just gives the perfect conditions of being walked, stomped, ran, and danced all over.”
Through her clear plastic helmet, Sugar Belle’s ears folded back against her head. Her eyes had a guilty expression, almost on the verge of tears. “But… no one should live like that.” This got her husband’s attention. “Is there something that could be done?”
The splattering Discord hummed in thought. “If both of you want my advice on how to get out of this, I suppose there’s… four things to keep in mind. For one, as paradoxical as this is going to sound – try to accept the idea that maybe your spouse will never change when you want them to.”
“How does that help?” Sugar questioned.
“The funny thing about evolution – it’s painfully slow. Sure, things could change, but they do so only on their own terms. Likewise, the same goes double for Big Mac here. So, don’t expect to start talking to you about every little thing now you know the heart of the problem. By lowering your expectations of either of you changing, it gives you the gift of having a relaxed, low tension attitude towards some tricky info about each other. This means that you’ll have to be very patient as you may have to repeat whatever complaint you have more than once. Don’t expect him to evolve overnight, or within a week, a month, a year, or even a decade – but wait on the other’s own terms.
“Second, when you two do argue, give up on trying to be ‘in the right.’ No one gets a prize for burying the other’s seemingly invalid points. If you ask me, being alone with your argument while your spouse resents you is a lousy prize to fight over if you ask me. The goal of arguing constructively isn’t to win, but to figure out how to live as happily as possible with others who they’re trying to teach you how to become a better version of yourself.
“Third, while the act of listening to your spouse is important, it’s just as much to acknowledge what their feeling back to them. Even their most awkward feelings should be given validation. The worst thing you could do is to push their moods away or deny they exist. A rule of hoof should be that no one becomes a bully simply because they’ve listened to too much. Give them, at minimum, fifty-five seconds worth of a hearing and verbally reflect their moods back to them. Play it back to them along the lines of… ‘I can understand completely that… I can hear you must… You must be feeling so…’ Trust me, stuff like that can change and save lives.
“Oh, and one more thing,” he turned to Big Mac, the paint sinking to the floor to where Discord could talk to him at his eye-level. “This one will be hard, but if you really want to give yourself a voice again, then you will have to retrain yourself to learn the art of being a pain with constructive, but respectable anger. From now on, I’m giving you homework to learn how to protest in a firm but self-possessed way. So the next time someone – anyone – makes your life a little more difficult than it needs to be, nip it in the bud and say the following.”
He thumbed over to the murals on the wall wherefrom left to right, the paintings of Big Mac began to say:
“Ah’m sorry, but you’re cuttin’ up my chance of happiness.”
“Beg yer pardon, but you’re ruinin’ what’s left of mah life.”
“Excuse me, but this is enough!”
Discord folded his arms and said to Big Mac, “On behalf of the author who suffers from the exact same thing you’re going through, breaking this habit is hard. But you’re not doing anyone a favor in shutting up and do what you’re told.” With that, that painted Discord melted to a puddle on the floor.
Big Macintosh stood there, speechless.
His wife quietly walked over to him, hugging her husband tightly.
“I’m sorry.” She said, “But he’s right, you do have the right to complain as much as I have.” Breaking the hug, she looked at him in the eye. “Mac… I’m listening.”
Although it took almost an hour, Big Mac and Sugar Belle were the last to exit the paint-covered school; both covered in red and pink paint by the time they rejoined their group.
Lesson 4 – Challenges of Marriage: The Nuptial Labyrinth
For all of the afternoon, the five groups toured around the carnival of marriage. Discord’s copies taught their lessons at their attractions. Some couples went came out with either sober despair or hope on their faces after they were told of the worst.
Finally, the entire class reunited at the other end of the enormous circus tent. Lit up in colorful bubs, a sign pointed to the entrance of the maze that coils around the entire tent. Even looking at the glass, the maze upon closer inspection has crooked mirrored walls and stairs that are made of mirrors. None of the groups dared to enter in without the others to come up with a plan to find a way out.
At the mouth of the entrance, Gallus looked at his reflection, deep in thought. At the same time, he was waiting for Twilight to join up with them. When she did finally show up along with Sandbar, Yona, Ms. Harshwhinny, Braeburn, and Troubleshoes. Turning away from the entrance, he went up to her.
“Princess Twilight, I think there’s a way to get through the maze.”
“You do?” Twilight tilted her head. “How?”
“I remember something back in a literature class when we were doing mythology. There was a Minotaur myth where there was this enormous maze that was so confusing, no one was able to find their way out. That was until the hero entered in with a ball of twine.”
“Oh, I see what you’re thinking,” Twilight nodded, “we just need to have something long enough to enter into the maze so we could navigate our way through. But how? There’s no rope.”
Rarity looked around, noticing the black and red triangle flags that were strung everywhere. “Maybe not, but we do have these.” She lit her horn to untie and dismantle it to form a long rope.
“That’s… actually pretty clever.” Shining commented, “I didn’t even think of that.”
“And all of you are going to need all the wits you have.” Discord’s voice echoed within the tent. A sudden pop near the maze’s entrance caught the attention of the entire class. “Trust me, you’re going to need it.”
“Discord?” Fluttershy inquired, “Is this really you or another copy?”
“Not this time, this right here is the genuine article.” He smiled. “I know that this whole marriage thing has taken a good deal longer than anticipated, but before we move on with the other lessons tomorrow, there’s one last thing about marriage that needs to be dealt with.”
“What’s more there to talk about?” Rainbow Dash questioned. “All of us have been going around in circles practically all day. We know that raising kids is gonna suck, your spouse won’t bluntly say what they mean, there are different kinds of relationships that have their pros and cons, we enter marriages sometimes for the wrong reasons, and we’re arguing wrong. What else do we need to know?”
“Consider this maze,” Discord pointed behind him, “as some fair warnings for some of you that may consider getting married or remarried. Eleven common issues of why marriages end besides infidelity – trust me, we’ll get around to that tomorrow. For now, once this class gets through, the maze, you’ll finally be excused for the day. However, don’t get any bright ideas of just breaking off with your partner to find the exit alone. The only way out is being with the one you came in with.”
“How would we know if we reached the end?” Trixie inquired.
Discord smirked. “Oh, trust me, you’ll know when you see it.” He turned around and began to enter into the mirrored maze. “I’ll see you all on the other side.” The class watched as his millions of reflections moved this way and that until they suddenly disappeared from every angle.
Twilight stepped up to the entrance, “Everyone, listen up. We don’t know how big this maze is nor when we would be able to get out. Discord is right, if there’s any chance of getting out, we will have to stick together. Rarity, may I?” Rarity gave her the rope of carnival flags over to Twilight, which she took in her aura. “I will lead the way. Tie your hoof to this rope while I will tie to that,” she pointed to a nearby booth that had a wooden post that held up a small canopy. “If I say to back up if I run into a dead-end, do so. We will get through this.”
After Twilight tied one end of the carnival rope to a nearby booth. She then told everyone to get in a line, as well as to space themselves a little so to reduce the probability of bumping into each other. Then using the other end of the rope to quickly measure out, she began to tie everyone’s left foreleg before wrapping it around herself. Once it was made sure that they were all connected, Twilight began to lead them into the glassy maze.
Even before they stepped inside the maze, they noticed that the entrance is a sharp turn to the left from the outside, so many were expecting that there would have been a massive window there. However, the class was caught off guard to find that the windows are a two-way mirror. As soon as they entered, all they could see was theirs and the other reflections in every direction. Even for Twilight, it was disorienting to where she couldn’t tell with every step which was an empty space, and which was a mirror or a glass that peered through another part of the maze. Very quickly she would bump into those reflective walls, regardless of where she tried to move towards. Worst yet, even the floor and the ceiling didn’t give any clue which direction to go. So, Twilight closed her eyes and felt her way like a blind pony. Feeling the mirrors until there was a gap for her to lead the class.
Even with her guiding, that still didn’t prevent the commentary from behind her.
“Are we there yet?”
“No Spoiled, we don’t know where we are.”
“Watch your step.”
“Have we been here before?”
“We’re going in circles!”
“No, we ain’t.”
“Hey, where did ya get sandwich?”
“Brae, what are ya talkin’ about?”
“The mirrors, Ah thought Ah saw you with a sandwich.”
“Deary, was that Discord?”
“Where?”
“Back there, I thought I saw him.”
“Hey, where’s my reflection?”
“Where are we?”
“What’s going on?”
After several minutes of twists, turns, dead-ends, stairs, and surprise doorways, Twilight felt her way down one snaking hallway to another until, all of a sudden, her hoof didn’t feel any of the walls.
“Woah…” She heard Sandbar’s voice from behind, “Princess, take a look at this.”
She did. Opening her eyes, they were in a large, almost circular room where she and the rest of the class could see themselves at every angle. It was, fortunately for them, somewhat easier to see than being trapped in those near claustrophobic walls. Most noticeable of all, was Discord in the middle of the room.
“I personally love the aesthetic of a good mirror maze.” He remarked as the rest of the class flooded in. “Symbols aside, this should be the perfect place to wrap out today’s lesson in.”
“So… Mr. Discord,” Ocellus inquired, “how do we get out?”
Turning around, Discord grinned. “I did mention that there were eleven more details to know before you get married. As it turns out, this room has twelve mirrors – one of which is the door to get out. But I must warn all of you, these particular mirrors might show something that you otherwise want to keep hidden from your potential spouse – or yourself for that matter.”
“Wait, why?” Ms. Harshwhinny questioned. “What do these mirrors do?”
Discord’s smirked only grew wider. “Depends, any volunteers?”
The class looked at one another, uneased at what their teacher was planning on doing. For one long moment, no one dared to make a move. That was until Fluttershy stepped forward.
“I’ll do it.” She said quietly. “That is if it’s alright.”
Discord froze for a moment. “You sure?” She nodded. “Well uh…” He looked around, “Go pick a mirror.”
Fluttershy looked around. In every direction, she saw everyone, including herself but multiplied several times over. If anything, the whole room looked the same, so she simply walked forward to the nearest mirror to reach out to. Her hoof made contact with the glass and unexpectedly, it changed so quickly that she “Eep!” back.
In the mirror was her reflection, and yet, it was not. What she and everyone else saw was her in her cottage, sitting on the couch with a cup of tea. There was a tired look in her reflection’s eyes as if she hadn’t gotten the chance to sleep for a long time.
“I didn’t know what to expect, Rarity,” her reflection said, sipping her cup. “We’ve been married for a month and – he’s still the same but… the longer I’m around him, the more I notice the ways he’s so irrational, irritating, difficult, and at times he’s unable to sympathize or understand me. I could have sworn that he was so perfect for me that I couldn’t foresee any of this coming.”
Fluttershy blinked before looking over to Discord who looked a shade paler. “I don’t understand,” she told him, “I don’t even remember having this conversation.”
“No… Maybe not yet.” He muttered.
“What was that?”
Discord cleared his throat. “One of the things that make marriage so difficult is that couples tend to forget that the one they’re marrying is deeply flawed and far from the perfect creature. They may have their sweet moments and quirks, for sure, but I promise each one of you in this room, that the longer you stay with them, the more things about them you’ll find incredibly irritating. The best way to go about this is to good naturally see these annoyances as unavoidable. If you honestly think you’ll be better with someone else that will be flawless, you’ll find no one alive or dead that fits your high standards. The fact that you’re alive is that you’re born flawed. If you’re going to enter into a marriage, both of you will have to kill the idea that things would be better with anyone else. Those that we think are perfect are those we haven’t gotten to know yet. So, if any of you want an at least tolerable marriage is to accept that there can only be a good enough marriage.
“But, I’m sorry to say, that’s not the right door. Anyone else wants to give it a shot?”
“I’ll give it a go,” Sweetie Drops said, walking in the opposite direction from Fluttershy. As soon as her hoof touched the mirror, the glass showed her reflection in a completely different place and setting. It showed her inside Sugar Cube Corner, looking at her behind the counter. Her reflection rubbed the side of her head as if she had a headache.
“I don’t get why that when monsters pop up in Ponyville, I need to go and try to take care of the problem. Yet, when I come home, she’s upset that I had the audacity to leave. Why? Doesn’t she understand that when duty calls, I have to answer, even if it’s on our anniversary, I have to go.”
“Hey, I remember having this conversation.” Mrs. Cake said.
“And I remember the fight we had,” Lyra added, folding her forelegs.
Sweetie Drops turned to Discord, “So what’s this supposed to be?”
“Another common thing that couples tend to overlook. That your spouse won’t fully understand the ways that we’re crazy. But I do get where it comes from. After all, love tends to start with the experience of being understood, right? And I don’t mean getting what this or that show’s about either. I mean in deep, supportive, and uncommon ways. Your wife, for example, may understand the lonely parts of you; you don’t need to explain why you found a dish so tasty, that you both hate the same stuck-up ponies; that she’s interested in doing this or that in bed. Sadly… I have to tell you… This won’t continue forever. But don’t go blaming her for her neglect of duty in trying to interpret and grasp your inner workings. How can you? She’s your wife, not a mind reader. You can’t just expect her to wave her hooves at you and instantly get who you were and what you need. The fact that she can’t isn’t some unique curse on you – this happens to everyone. Of course, she may sympathize, but even that has limits.”
“So, what do you expect me to do?” Sweetie Drops questioned.
“Well, as something for possible future couples here to consider, you’re mature enough to get married when you have an active self-awareness of your own insanities. Sure, you can easily pick out why your spouse drives you nuts but guess what – you are just as guilty. Sometimes we’re out of control for long periods. We might be continuously anxious. Or we might do magic when we sleepwalk and thereby unleashing all sorts of chaos. In other words, you, me, everyone in and outside of this place is – to put it as elegantly as I can – an idiot. If we aren’t regularly and deeply embarrassed about who we are with our flaws, it can only be because we have a dangerous capacity for selective memory.
“Now, who’s next?”
Spoiled Rich broke away from the group. “I think I can see how this is going to go.” She trotted up to the nearest mirror to her to reach out and touch it. Her confident smirk faded as her reflection changed. In the glass was her, a younger self before the plastic surgery on her nose. She recognized the setting of her reflection instantly too. It was the honeymoon suite in the Bahamares when she and Filthy had their first, real argument.
“I don’t see why you’re so uncaring all of the sudden!” her reflection scoffed, her voice dripping with bitter sarcasm. “You’re not the only one that has needs you know! I told you before we left that we should bring an entourage of servants with us, but no! You insisted that just the two of us is all we need. Well, you clearly don’t have a clue how to draw a bath, do laundry, make a decent breakfast. I can’t believe how unsympathetic you are when it comes to taking care of me!”
She felt the judgmental eyes of every pony and creature in the room on her. She turned to Discord with a scowl on her face. “How dare you try to embarrass me like this!”
“Hey, I warned you.” Discord smirked, “And even with the years of being married, it looks like you’re not ready to remarry either.”
“Excuse me!”
“Let me explain Ms. Trigger-happy. You have in you an idea that the Romantics tend to overlook – is that you’re ready to be loved, but not to love.”
“What the Tartarus does that mean!”
“It means that you tend to think that love is just one overspending thing – but in reality, it’s two. However, your attitude is to a degree understandable because you, like so many, start out knowing only about being loved by your family or caregivers. As humiliating as it sounds, what you’re seeking is to recreate that care from foalhood into adulthood, to feel again what it was like to be tended to and indulged. Secretly, you want someone who will immediately understand your needs; bring you what you wanted; be incredibly patient in your troubling moments with sympathy and make it all better. Unfortunately, Spoiled, this expectation is the perfect recipe for disaster. For a marriage to be somewhat functional, both you and our new husband will have to move out from the foal and into the parental role. You will be ready to be married again when you’re willing to set aside your own demands and concerns for the needs of another.”
As Discord was talking, Starlight aimed for another mirror across from Spoiled to touch the mirror across from her. When she did, her reflection changed to a frustrated look while the background turned into the interior of Trixie’s caravan.
“You can’t just expect me to do everything around here, Trixie!” her reflection argued, “I know you love doing magic but dammit! You have to take care of some of the chores around here! When I married you, I didn’t sign up to be your personal slave!”
This got Discord’s attention. “Ah! Starlight I believe you stumbled onto another reason why marriages fail.”
“What? Chores?” Starlight asked confusingly. “That sounds a little-”
“Unrealistic? Trust me, this too comes from an unrealistic expectation. The Romantics that influenced the world saw marriage strongly through emotional terms – find the one you love, and you’ll live happily ever after. Of course, ask a real married couple that lived together for longer than five years, and they will tell you that marriage has more in common with a small business. That for it to work, both of them have to make and harmonize their schedules. They need to cook, clean, chauffeur, prepare for work, gardening, reconcile, and budget. Many are put off by how much work it is and doing all this stuff doesn’t show up in most romance novels or movies. So, as a result, there’s no sense of glamor in doing all of this stuff. Yet, all of these chores, as weird as it sounds, is what’s truly romantic in a sense of sustaining of love; and this should be seen as the bedrock of a functional marriage. So, if you’re not able to grow up, you’re basically screwed.
“Now then,” he turned to the rest of the class, “we got eight more to go, anyone else wanna give a try?”
The group looked at one another, hesitant to see if the next thing these mirrors my reveal is a conversation they may have or words that should have been left unsaid in the past. Eventually, Mrs. Cake went up to one of the mirrors right next to the one they came in from. When she pressed a hoof against it, the mirror changed and reflected herself to her. This reflection showed her lying sideways on their bed with the lamp on the nightstand on. Her face was carved with exhaustion and pity.
“Dearie, I know.” Her reflection said, “I know it’s been a very long time since we’ve done it but… I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’m up for it. Besides, I can’t risk getting pregnant again, we’re juggling a business, the twins, and Pinkie as it is. Sweetie, I want to do it too, but every day I’m so exhausted that I don’t think either of us has the energy to do anything at the end of the day.”
There was a long, awkward silence among the class as they processed what they heard.
“Was that about what I think it’s about?” Cadence asked.
Cup Cake blushed heavily.
“Well…” Discord said, rubbing the back of his neck, “the only comforting thing I could say here is that this too isn’t uncommon for couples that have been married for a long time. But the fact when you and your uh… husband aren’t able to do it after a while is expected.”
Cup Cake’s ears folded back her head. “I know but… it’s not fair to either of us.”
“I get what you’re saying. Remember, the Romantics were the first to combine the idea that love and sex should go together. However, what they overlooked is that at best, that sort of thing won’t stay like that beyond a few months – maybe two years if you’re lucky. However, it should be kept in mind that it’s neither of you nor your husband’s fault. Even with the myth that you’ll remain sexually active after having foals, more parents are finding out every day that this wasn’t the kind of intimacy they’d hoped. It’s almost a biological law: that foals will kill the sexual relationship that produced them. Couples know when they’re ready to marry when they accept resigning your sex life and redirect your energies elsewhere is inevitable.”
“Brother, you hit the nail on the head,” Filthy commented, folding his forelegs.
“Aaaaand thank you for volunteering!” Discord grinned. “Go on and pick a mirror.”
Sighing, Filthy went over to a mirror that was the furthest from his wife. “I got to learn to keep my mouth shut.” He was heard muttering before touching the mirror.
His reflection morphed into a younger, miserable-looking self. Slump over a bar with a tall, half-empty glass of cider within reach.
“Where did I go wrong, Berry?” his reflection asked, shaking his head. “I could have sworn that Spoiled was… the one. She had everything that I have been looking for, smart, beautiful, had the same background as I had. Now that I’m married her… all I can think about is trying everything to get away from her. It’s like she changed from the mare of my dreams to a nightmare. I thought we were compatible, you know? No, don’t say anything,” he took another swig of his drink, “I wanna be left alone.”
“Sheesh,” Braeburn remarked, “That’s rough, buddy.”
“Yet,” Discord commented, “this too has a source. Those Romantics have thought that if you found – the one – someone who is both beautiful both on the inside and the outside, who has the same interests, tastes, and attitudes to life than all will be well. However, what those Romantics also left out is that the longer you stay with someone, the more you’ll find how different you two really are. The wise have learned that change is not always inherently good or bad, but the difference between in pain or tolerating them is how one comes to terms with it. You see, Filthy, the ability to tolerate the range of differences with anyone you decide to marry is what makes someone mature. Compatibility is an achievement of love that needs to be earned, not to be expected from the start.”
As Discord was talking, Troubeshoes, along with the rest of the class, have noticed that the room was becoming easier to see as it showed less of their reflections and more of someone else’s. So he takes it upon himself to go to one of the mirrors, if not for the hopes that he might find the way out, then to at least help narrow down where they needed to go.
When he touched it, his reflection showed him back in Appleloosa in the grove of his husband’s land.
“I know, I know,” his refection said, rubbing his head as though he has a headache, “Ya got a billion things ya agreed ta do. Harvest apples, bake pies, coach Hoofball, teach violin, be the diplomat for the buffalo and be the official greeter ta AAAAAAPleloosa! Sometimes I think you’re just doin’ all this stuff just so it gives ya all the excuses not ta be around me.” He huffed, “At times I wondered why you’d married me.”
The class, upon hearing this, went uncomfortably quiet. Although many were taken aback at his remark, his husband Braeburn, upon hearing this again, his ears folded back as he now knows why he said it.
“Now this,” Discord waved over to Troubleshoes, “is a majorly overlooked detail about marriage. That there will be times when your spouse won’t have your undivided attention all the time. Neither will they fully understand or sympathize with you. While I’m going to come back to this with tomorrow’s lesson, this struggle, Trouble, is another unspoken side effect when it comes to love that many are unprepared for.”
“Unprepared?” Troubleshoes tilted his head. “How?”
“Well, when it happens, it just leaves one confused,” Discord explains. “That there will be times your husband would be busy often and preoccupied for most of the time. That his attention span comes and goes in a snap. That he isn’t interested in hearing how your day went. That he prefers to write or talk to his friends more than to bother to look up to talk to you. Look, when it happens, it could look like that the relationship has gone wrong and your hubby might not love you anymore. But what you need to keep in mind, is that that even he needs love too, but on terms that would work. Sometimes when he’s distracted, or quiet, or has a billion jobs; it never means that he doesn’t love you anymore. It means that he has a life too and has harsh days that are as bad as yours.”
He then stepped back to look around the room. “Well class, there’s only four more left. Who wants to go next?”
“I’ll do it,” Cadence stepped forward, walking up to one of the untouched mirrors. She followed the pattern to touch it to see what would happen. Her reflection morphed and she saw that the background resembled a lot like the bathroom she and her husband use in the Crystal Palace. Her reflection had on her pink fuzzy robe while her mane was in a towel on her head, wrapped like a turban. The reflection looked down and, using her magic, picked up a damp towel on the floor.
“Dear, what’s this doing on the floor?” her reflection inquired.
This was replied by Shining’s voice that too was coming from the mirror but out of sight. “I just got out of the shower.”
“Yeah I can see that, but what’s this towel doing on the floor?”
“Well, I threw it on the floor because I got to do my inspection in the barracks in ten minutes.”
“I know you have to go do your inspection, but what’s it doing on the floor?”
“What do you mean what’s it doing on the floor? It’s just on the floor!” Shining’s voice said with a tone of impatience.
“What? You couldn’t spend two seconds to put it on the towel rack? That’s what it’s for!”
Cadence craned her head back to the class, many of them, especially the married ones in the group, looked at her wide-eyed.
“Huh…” Lyra blinked, “and here I thought me and Sweetie were the only ones who do that.”
“Ya kiddin’?” Braeburn asked, “Ah had that same conversation about a cutting board.”
“Sloppy hoofwriting for us.” Mr. Cake added.
“Anyone here that’s dating, take notes.” Discord informed. “If you do get married, this is another kind of argument that’ll be unavoidable. You will have these seemingly out of nowhere conversations over seemingly little things that will drag on for years. Take Cadence’s example here with the towels on the floor. Because both spouses think that they’re oh-so-clever, they think they’re not petty. After all, intelligent creatures don’t argue over small things like towels, cutting boards, or sloppy hoofwriting. That’s something someone would think that’s what their grandparents would do. So couples don’t want to have this conversation because they believe they’re true romantics, so they shouldn’t discuss this sort of thing. You are too ‘clever’ to have this sort of argument; and when two individuals are convinced that they are too clever to have this sort of argument, you know the argument will be bitter.”
“The sad thing is that it’s actually true,” Sugar Belle commented.
“Yes,” Discord shrugged, “However, there is another way to look at these things which you will need to have an imagination for.”
“And what’s that?” Cadence inquired.
“The thing is, behind the heart of this kind of argument is the symbols that give us a good dose of good old anxiety.”
“Symbols? What are you talking about?” She pointed to the mirror, “Shining just left a slopping wet towel on the floor.”
“And Sweetie Drops doesn’t drink every drop of her glass of water and instead lets them down the sink; Troubleshoes presses a little too hard on the chopping board; Carrot Cake has terrible hoofwriting. Yet, all of this stuff manages to get an argument Royal out of them. Why? Because of the symbolism behind it. And the thing about symbols, they tend to represent things, even when we don’t think too hard about it. Sure, to Shining, leaving a damp towel on the floor isn’t a big deal – he used to do it all the time when he was growing up and his family does it. But to you, that cold, soaked towel that’s lying there could represent a lack of care for one’s responsibility, expecting for anyone else excepts himself to do place it somewhere to dry.
“Maybe not drinking every drop and instead dumps the rest in the sink might go unnoticed, but to Lyra, it’s alarming because it represents the threat of her wife drinking up the best years of her life and tossing the rest away, along with her without a second thought. The cutting board to anyone else is nothing to get upset about because you could always replace it every year or so. But to Braeburn, having his husband press the knife down too hard could signal Trouble’s rough side where he might, without any restraint, could do the same thing to him. The one with the messy hoofwriting doesn’t see the need to clarify because they know what it’s supposed to say; but to Mrs. Cake, she’s off-putted that her husband isn’t afraid of being misunderstood – if not alarming if he’s not going to make the effort to say what he means than what chance does she have when she wants to do the same for her?
“Yes, from an outside perspective, all this stuff is rather small. But to those who live up to them at close range, some of these and more could have someone raise enough concern to ring those alarm bells loudly.”
He turned back to his class. “Okay, we got a few more, who else wants to give it a try?”
“Eh… why not?” Smolder walked over to one of the mirrors. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I like to head home sometime soon.” Upon reaching one of the unaltered mirrors, she slapped the glass and watched to see what would happen. Indeed, something did. Her reflection showed her, a little taller and carrying a tray. Breakfast judging by the pancakes, cup of orange juice, and the tinny glass vase with a single flower in it. The setting was a place that Smolder didn’t recognize. It was a bedroom with a door opened in the back while below, about half of the mirror is taken up by sheets and a comfier.
“Morning Ocellus,” her reflection said with a smile and bags under her eyes, “I uh, made you some breakfast.”
“Can it wait?” Ocellus’s voice was heard but nowhere to be seen.
“But your breakfast is gonna get cold.”
“Well just set it over there, I’ll eat it later.”
“C’mon, it wouldn’t be good if-”
“I don’t care,” Ocellus snapped at her, “I don’t care for whatever the reason is, I haven’t had a good night’s rest in over a month! If it wouldn’t be good later than just throw it away!”
A look of hurt and anger flashed on the reflection’s face. Then suddenly, she threw the carefully arranged breakfast on the bed while screaming with tears in her eyes, “Well HAPPY FORGOTTEN ANNIVERSARY, HONEY!” and ran out of the room.
Smolder stepped back in shock until she bumped into Discord.
“That… That couldn’t be me! I would never-”
“Yes, you would.” Discord interrupted. “But not for the reason you think.”
“But I never get angry at Ocellus over anything! Why would I do that?”
“Because the expectations are set so high.” He explained, “Unlike spending time with your friends where all they wanted is a nice night out and the only challenge you have is picking out a decent place to eat – your future wife doesn’t have that luxury. When you’re married, lovers are expected to do all sorts of things. Be our best friend, our confidant, nurse, financial advisor, chauffeur, co-parent, and sex-mate just to name a few. You’ll place so many expectations of her to the point that when you find that she can’t hold up to that impossibly high standard, it will feel like a slap in the face. But as paradoxically as it sounds and to borrow from another lesson, the fact that you could scream back, slam doors, call her the worst names you could think of, or even throw breakfast in bed at her means that deep down, you feel safe enough to do so. You’d have to be very comfortable around someone before you willingly show you're less than honorable sides. Not because you’re evil, but that you finally found someone that would allow you to take your respectable mask off now and then.”
He turned to the rest of the class, inquiring who else would want to test their luck.
“Well if nopony else is gonna do it,” Applejack finally said, walking up to one of the remaining mirrors. “Let get this over with,” and lightly tapped on the glass.
She watched the background of the mirror change to that of the interior of the barn. The reflection showed her with a frown, similar to what she has on now. But she raised an eyebrow as soon as it started speaking.
“Yeah, yeah, Ah’ve heard all about it. Yer now captain of the keeping-as-far-away-from-home Wonderbolts. Now that yer dream has come true, Ah suppose you’d be spendin’ more time in the sky than have the decency of bein’ around fer the harvest when we’re short-hoof as it is. Am Ah right?”
Applejack tried to look over her shoulder, only to find Rainbow there; her face perplexed. “Sheesh, who are you and what have you done with Applejack?”
“The clue is in her bitter tone,” Discord informed. “Sounds to me that Jackie here is in a bad mood.”
“Ta be fair,” Applejack replied, “if Ah were short on hooves ta help with the harvest, Ah guess Ah would be bitter. But what does this gotta do with anythin’?
“Here’s another aspect that married couples should keep an eye on. Is that if one of you gets too happy when the other is not, the one who isn’t will spoil the mood by being unexpectedly nasty. And this could apply to anything, like getting a brand new Wonderbolt uniform, the apples are all harvested early, someone we haven’t seen in years is coming – then all of a sudden, the other would be unusually critical and mean to bring the other down.”
“Actually yeah,” Rainbow Dash raised an eyebrow, “I have noticed that. What’s up with that?”
“Well at first glance, it might seem the one who’s doing the unfair criticizing is just being a monster at the moment – chances are, the one doing it that they’re being evil for seemingly no reason. However, there is. Ask a therapist, and they will tell you that they’re not doing it for the sake of being mean, but because they’re feeling lonely and are afraid that your happy mood would be a huge barrier to get their pain across. The thinking goes like this – if my spouse is happier than I am, how in the world will they understand what I’m going through? I have to bring them down so they will know what it’s like for me. The irony is that it would work; but only to have it blow up in their face as they won’t bother to listen as to them, you just hurt them for no reason.”
“Ah don’t suppose ya have a better way of goin’ around it?”
“I do. So whenever you feel threatened by her optimistic mood, instead of launching a large scale verbal attack – try a different approach. As calmly as you can without trying to attack or being bitter – confess your hurt. You might think that this would make you weaker than you are, but it won’t be if you do it firm but collective. And for those who might be on the receiving end, don’t respond by doing the same. To loosely quote an author with the last name of Twain: ‘Never argue with someone in a bad mood, they will drag you down and beat you with experience.’”
Discord looked around the room. “Looks like there are only two mirrors left and one of them is the exit. Anyone?”
“I’ll do it.” Sugar Belle said. After choosing one of the mirrors and presumed that maybe this one would be the way out, she pushed on it; only to find her reflection change. The background turned into the inside of a sandwich shop, and what her reflection said was short but confused the entire class when they heard it.
“Oh no, he doesn’t like pickles on his sandwich. He never has really.”
Sugar Belle blinked and turned to Discord. “I don’t get it.”
“Remember a while back that tip, I gave ya to not expect your husband to change overnight?” She nodded, “Well, there’s something that has been left out of that advice; so I’m going to clear it up with this example. Because the thing about personal evolution that most couples tend to forget? That it’s a slow process that happens only on their own terms. Just as it’s unhelpful to expect that your spouse should change in one area very quickly, so too you should expect when he does want to change in other areas. Now, as a heads up, you might think that it’s a betrayal that Mac would dare to develop new tastes, hobbies, a new way of doing things. Maybe one day he would give pickles on his sandwich a try or wants to get into something like say… crossdressing on Thursdays. Calm down, that’s just an example. The point here is that you want to be mature about it, a couple should learn to accept that their spouse could and will eventually change in some form or another.
“Welp! By the looks of it, there’s only one way out.”
Twilight looked behind, “But that’s the same entrance we came in.”
“Exactly,” Discord floated over to the final mirror. “Like repressed memories, the best way to get out of one is to face what’s behind you.”
Pushing it gently, the mirror swings open something resembling a wedding chapel underneath the striped canvas. It was a room that had pews of broken animatronics, dried flowers, withered balloons that were on the floor. Straight ahead right next to the exit, a robotic stallion in black slumped over. Discord took the lead.
“Gather your partners, everyone! I have one last thing to say before ending today’s long lesson.”
Two by two, the class exited out of the mirror maze and walked down the rows of the creepily put together chapel.
“So Discord,” Gallus said to him, “I think I get the message of what today’s lesson is – marriage sucks and it should be avoided at all cost because it’s way too complicated.”
“Oh no, far from it!” Discord grinned. “The whole point in having all of you undergo this entire carnival is to help illustrate something that societies have overlooked. Marriage is the most wonderful, but profoundly difficult thing you could ask another individual to agree to do. The reason why a good chunk of marriages fails isn’t that the couples who enter them are inadequate, but because they were never told how big of a challenge it is. Because no one has explained to them how complex the obstacles they will meet, they enter one unprepared for when any of this stuff I’ve mentioned in this lesson happens. This was my way of giving all of you who are considering tying the knot to think about before saying ‘I do.’
“Now before I officially end this,” he floated over to the animatronic stallion in black. “Out of everything, Soorin Carrotketgaard, a comically gloomy philosopher had a useful outburst in his book ‘Either/Or’ has summed everything that I have been trying to say perfectly. This is something I believe should be placed above the door of any place that hosts weddings. Although I have altered what he actually said, this outburst is so good that I felt I should end the lesson with it.”
“Really?” Soarin tilted his head. “What did he say?”
Discord pulled the string on the machine’s back. To which the robot sat up and began speaking:
“Marry and you will regret it; don’t marry, you’ll also regret it; marry or don’t marry, you will regret it either way! Be honest and authentic with your spouse, you will regret it; stay silent and be nice, you’ll also regret doing that; be authentic or be nice, you will regret doing either! Believe in your spouse, you will regret it; don’t believe in them, you’ll regret that too; believe in your spouse or don’t believe, you will regret it either way! Have children, you will regret it; don’t have them, you’ll regret that as well; have children or abstain, you will regret it either way! Stay faithful to your spouse, you will regret it; have an affair, you’ll regret that too; stay faithful or have an affair, you will regret it either way, and you will regret both! No matter what decision you make in this life, you will always come to regret it! This gentlecolts is the very essence of all philosophy!”
“In other words,” Discord concluded, “if you want to get married, go ahead. If you want to remain single, go ahead. Both sides have their challenges, but neither have anything to envy from the other.
“Class is dismissed.” He waved over to the exit.
The class, relieved that it was all over, quickly went through the flaps of the tent. In the light of the afternoon, every pony and creature squinted in the light as they stepped down a small flight of stairs and back on the grass before the School of Friendship. Many of them looked back from the place where they came from – a small tent on a wooden platform where Discord exited out of. Before he left, he collapsed the tent, folded the stage up several times until all that remained was a suitcase. Discord picked it up and summoned a straw hat on his head to tip it at them.
“See you all tomorrow!” And with that, he flew away.