>>9051738 Twilight's determination, however, remains undiminished. “We need to look at this problem scientifically,” she says as she lifts Spike from her back. “Clearly, we haven't properly prepared.”
Spike quirks an eyebrow as she falls to the ground and wriggles herself free. “Prepared? For putting on pants?”
“Well, these are extraordinary pants, right? So…maybe they need extraordinary preparation.” The shorts fly from her hooves in the grip of her magic. “And I think I know just the thing.”
Spike waits with a morbid sense of anticipation as Twilight trots into the bathroom. After a few moments of loud and distinct rummaging, she returns, a bottle of clear liquid floating by her side.
“What's that? Soap?”
Twilight shakes her head, her self-satisfaction undiminished by the prior setback. “Nope. Mineral oil.”
“... Why do we even have that?”
“Emergencies, Spike. Emergencies,” she replies. “Now,” she says as she plops her belly down on the floor and flicks her tail over her back, “apply the oil liberally to the affected area.”
Spike stands to his feet and dusts his hands. “Well, good luck with that. I'm outta here!”
“Oh no you don't!” A glimmering mist of magenta magic lifts him bodily from the floor and drops him down at her side once more.
“But, Twilight!” he whines. “You have magic! Can't you do this yourself?”
“You know magic doesn't work that way, Spike. Now stop complaining and start oiling my butt.”
Immediately, his eyes go to the front door. If anyone were going to burst in and cause some sort of hilarious misunderstanding, now would be the time.
After a long, disappointing moment, he picks up the bottle of oil.
With a roll of his eyes, he squirts it carelessly over her hindquarters, shaking the bottle from left to right and producing a heavy stream that splashes in long, dripping lines over the bulging cheeks of her rump and the thick trunks of her thighs.
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