An extradimensional space surrounded by doors that all read "NI"? Not the greatest gag I've ever seen, but it does have a certain charm. Or it did, anyway. Ha ha, very funny. Joke's over. I would like to go home now.

Yes, I've tried opening them. You can't go out from in doors. That's the whole point! Snapping the old eagle talon hasn't helped much, either. I can barely conjure rats made from gravy whisks, let alone whisk myself away from this place.

What a place this is: flat, drab and grey. I had far better fever-dreams when I was locked in stone for a millennium. The least they could have done was give me complimentary peanuts!

Were I anyone else, I would likely be panicking at this point, but I am the Lord of Chaos. I do not panic. Worry? Perhaps. Suffer anxiety? Once in a great while. But I am not afraid. It is merely the time for swift, decisive action.

And who better for decisive, destruction action than my dear pony friends?

So, what would Twilight Sparkle do? Probably find a book or something. No, I can't make one of those either. I wonder if I could... ah-ha, there we are! I cannot make, but I can summon! And it's... 101 Sewing Techniques by Stitched Piece. Wonderful. A treatise more apropos to my predicament could not have been penned by mortal pony.

At least it tastes all right.

I pull one of the doors, hoping to avoid the classic blunder. No, no, they're in doors, I've already gone over this. Just, you know, making sure.

What else could I summon? There has to be something out there that could help me. A sewing needle? If only I knew how to pick locks. Certainly not a skill all-powerful spirits are known to cultivate. Let's try again. Scissors? Only if I feel the overwhelming need to trim my nails. A bolt of cloth? Cerulean was never my shade. Thread? All right, this is getting ridiculous. I'm sensing a pattern here, and I don't mean a sewing pattern!

I mean... It is a sewing pattern. A pattern of sewing, but not a...

No, no, keep it together, Discord. It's just a simple contradiction. This is not going to get to you. All you have to do is think, like Twilight Sparkle. Or is that Rainbow Dash? One of those blasted ponies is good at thinking, aren't they? Am I?

Sewing patterns, patterns of sewing, in doors indoors, it's not making any sense! What fun is there in making sense? None! And this isn't any fun! If everything's a contradiction, how can I even be here? There's no out, only in, I have to become the in if I'm going to get out!

Let me out!

Help me!

Please.

I can't breathe.

Everything tastes like...

...Fabric...

---

"Rarity, have you seen Discord?"

Rarity turned at the sound of the bell, smiling at Fluttershy.

"Why of course, dear. He came by this morning, saying something about wishing to be a better friend." She flipped her mane. "In the spirit of friendshp, I decided to take him up on the request, however odd, and showed him my inspiration room. I thought he might appreciate the chaos that tends to happen there. I suppose he did, as he's been quiet ever since."

"Oh dear." Fluttershy's head drooped. "But Rarity, you always say your inspiration room is organized chaos."

There was a long pause. They stared at each other. As one, they dashed up the stairs.

They found Discord lying in a pool of his own saliva, babbling about fishes and cream.

"Oh dear," Fluttershy said, gathering him up as best she could. "You poor thing! I'll get you home right away to see the parrots." Turning to Rarity, she added, "Listening to them talk calms him."

"Fluttershy, I'm ever so sorry!" Rarity, stricken, clung to the door frame. "I had no idea this would happen!"

"It's all right, Rarity. I'm sure he's learned his lesson about organizing."

And with that, Fluttershy, an entire comatose draconequus coiled on her back, waddled downstairs and out of Carousel Boutique.