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“Twilight Sparkle Goes to Bed” by John Bailey

Twilight Sparkle has every intention of crawling into her freshly cleaned bed sheets. So why is it so hard to get there?

Today’s story is “Twilight Sparkle Goes to Bed” by John Bailey, who has been an avid writer, and a member of the furry community for most of his life. He’s written creature-fiction for as long as he can remember, and has recently published his first gryphon-centric creature fantasy book, Dire. You can find it on Amazon in e-book and physical formats, and in physical formats on various retail websites. 

This is a My Little Pony fanfiction, and is one of John’s older works, but still holds a place in his heart.

Read for you by Khaki, your faithful fireside companion.

Transcript
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You’re listening to The Voice of Dog.

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I’m Khaki, your faithful fireside companion,

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and Today’s story is

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“Twilight Sparkle Goes to Bed”

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by John Bailey, who has been an avid writer, and a member of the furry community for most of his life.

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He’s written creature-fiction for as long as he can remember,

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and has recently published his first gryphon-centric creature fantasy book,

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Dire. You can find it on Amazon in e-book and physical formats,

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and in physical formats on various retail websites.

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This is a My Little Pony fanfiction,

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and is one of John’s older works,

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but still holds a place in his heart.

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“Twilight Sparkle

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Goes to Bed” by John Bailey/Agent Bookfort

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Bed. The thought hung in Twilight Sparkle’s head,

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refusing to rid itself to make room for more important matters,

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such as her recent study on the ceremonial rituals of griffins

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during the month of August.

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No, this time, the thought of her bed beckoned her,

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enticed her with the warm comfort of a soft mattress and sheets,

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wrapping around her like a cocoon.

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Tonight was special.

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Tonight, Twilight wouldn’t just be sleeping in her usual bed sheets

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and feather-fluffed pillow.

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No, tonight she would be welcomed to the warmth and comfort

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of freshly dry-cleaned

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bed linen. The smell and sensation of freshness would entice her

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to a sleep of wonderful and

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unimaginable comfort.

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Twilight tried to ignore the

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incessant beckoning

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the bed’s thought brought forth.

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It sang to her like a siren’s call.

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It wanted her. Its only desire was to embrace her.

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It sat there, upon the pedestal of the second floor

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and waited with pleading puppy dog

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eyes. She needed to go there.

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Twilight stood up and stretched her legs and looked over her cluttered desk.

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This evening’s study session had been particularly intense,

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evident by the sheer mess in front of her.

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Books, scrolls and scrap paper were strewn across the floor in some pseudo-organised pattern.

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She sighed. With Spike out of town for the next few days, it was up to her to make sure the library remained clean and organised.

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Bed, despite its incessant calling,

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would need to wait.

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With each book she placed on the shelf,

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and each scroll she righted,

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her inherent desire to return to those lustrous sheets

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was one step closer.

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The thought of slumbering in that epitome of comfort pleased her,

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chilled her in the most satisfying of ways.

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She could feel its promised warmth creep over her

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as the entire essence of her very being awaited her final goal.

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She smiled at the accomplishment of her cleaned work desk.

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Now, she could claim her well-earned prize.

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Each step towards that

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godly gift was an ascension unto no other.

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Only the stairs remained to be traversed, and she would conquer them.

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One step. Two. Three.

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Four. Fi— She hadn’t taken the trash out.

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Twilight sighed deeply,

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a feeling of emptiness grew inside her

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as her prize slipped out of her grasp.

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She trotted down the stairs and in to the kitchen,

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and tied up the plastic garbage bag with force.

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It groaned in protest as the knot tightened to its extremity.

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Twilight frowned at the garbage,

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levitating it in front of her as she wandered to the front door.

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She would need to teach this bag a lesson, for the crime of not taking itself out

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and ultimately inconveniencing her.

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She set it down next to the mailbox with a scowl.

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That’ll show it! She closed the door behind her and sighed in relief.

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Now, there was nothing standing between her and her bed.

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That wonderful warmth positively glowed at the top of the stairs.

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The mutual desire between pony and bed filled the air,

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each silently calling for each other.

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She smiled and began her trek toward the stairs again.

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This time, there was no stopping her.

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There was nothing left to do,

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nothing that couldn’t be completed in the morning.

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...She hadn’t fed Owlowiscious.

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Twilight cursed under her breath.

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It was a terrible thing to forget to feed a pet.

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Yet, she argued to herself,

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it was easy to forget that the bird existed when he slept for most of the day.

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That was, of course, until he was needed.

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She shook her head and wandered back to the kitchen. Her eyes

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drooped as her desire for sleep was further denied.

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She opened the pantry and sought the unopened box

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of Flim & Flam’s Owl Pellets that Spike had bought before leaving for whatever business he had been assigned to.

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Where was it? She could swear the darned pantry's inventory changed every time she opened the door.

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The Owl Pellets weren’t in its usual place.

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It was supposed to be on the second shelf, next to the salt, but not near the pepper.

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The pepper was supposed to be on the third shelf, so they couldn’t be mixed up.

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On the other side of the pellets

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was supposed to be her favourite cereal, Celesti-O’s.

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Instead, there was mandarin flavoured jam.

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Twilight grumbled as she systematically rearranged and alphabetised the pantry

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in the hopes that she would find what she was looking for, so she could ultimately dive under the covers of her freshly cleaned sheets.

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A familiar hoot sounded behind her

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and she whirled around quickly, to see her owl standing on the bench,

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beside the box of owl pellets.

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Twilight gave the bird a deadpanned glare.

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She pulled the bowl from the windowsill with her magic, filled it to the brim with the food and placed it back to its original position, taking careful note to place it exactly

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where she found it.

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She ignored the bird’s

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gracious hoot and rushed to her living room.

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She looked around anxiously for anything she’d forgotten.

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She refused to remember an unfinished task halfway towards her glowing prize of commodious beauty.

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Teeth! It was lucky she had taken the time to remember,

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otherwise this menial task would have been naught but another obstacle to overcome,

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and an irrelevant nuisance.

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Briskly finishing,

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her teeth shone. Now she was ready to claim the prize she had been waiting for, for so long.

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It had been too long,

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too far away. Now, it was within her grasp.

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She would claim it,

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without any further distractions.

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One step. Two. Three. Four.

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Five! She was almost there.

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Her mind happily buzzed, for she had not forgotten anything further.

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Ten. She was halfway there.

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There it was. She could see the wooden framing that held her goal, and ultimate desire.

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Nothing could stop her now!

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Nineteen. Twenty. There it sat,

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shining brightly in a heavenly glow as a chorus of angels sang sweetly caressed her ears,

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beckoning for her to finally claim the prize

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that she had so rightfully earned.

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Her accolade for perfection

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Her grin grew into a blissful smile.

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She slowly pulled open the sheet,

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lay down, and snuggled into her bed.

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She sighed wistfully as the scent of freshly cleaned linen filled her nose,

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adding a wonderful sense of euphoria to the feeling of

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irreplaceable and indescribable comfort,

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which she knew would only come again, once they had been washed once more.

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She closed her eyes,

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a low moan emitted from her lips

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as pure bliss washed over every fibre in her body.

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She snuggled into the blankets,

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pulling them closer to her,

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wrapping herself thoroughly in the illicit

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warmth they had promised for so long.

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It was just as she had envisioned –

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no – it was better.

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Her desire made this even more warm,

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comforting and accomplished, to have

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finally claimed her prize.

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She stopped. Her eyes shot open.

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I have to pee.This was “Twilight

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Sparkle Goes to Bed”

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by John Bailey/Agent Bookfort,

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read for you by Khaki,

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your faithful fireside companion.

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You can find more stories on the web at thevoice.dog, or find the show wherever you get your podcasts.

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Thank you for listening

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to The Voice of Dog

About the Podcast

Show artwork for The Voice of Dog
The Voice of Dog
Furry stories to warm the ol' cockles, read by Rob MacWolf and guests. If you have a story that would suit the show, you can get in touch with @VoiceOfDog@meow.social on Mastodon, @voiceofdog.bsky.social on Blue Sky, or @Theodwulf on Telegram.

About your host

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Khaki