>It seems you've been sent to pony prison.
>Apparently, dining and dashing is a still a crime here.
>You're not actually sure why you thought it wouldn't be.
>As a result, you've been sentenced to two days in the slammer.
>You didn't have any plans for the week, so you went along with it.
>As you arrive, the cop who arrested you gives you a look.
>"I'm really quite disappointed in you, you know. Maybe you do things differently where you're from, but around these parts, we pay for our meals."
"I see."
>"Now then. Prison is no laughing matter, of course, but you'll be treated well. See to it that you're on your best behavior and you'll be out in no time. Hopefully you'll have learned your lesson by then."
"Okay."

>You enter the jail.
>It's pretty quiet in here, save for the sounds of the approaching guard.
>"Hello, you must be Anonymous. My name is Jubilee Sunbeam, and I've been assigned to your case. Most prisoners are only here for a few hours, or a day at most, but more serious offenders such as yourself are given somepony to talk to. Prison can get pretty tense if you have to cope with it yourself, you know."
>You take a moment to wonder what sort of crime is worth a few hours of jail time.
>Littering, maybe?
>"Basically, you'll go about your day as normal, and I'll visit your cell before bed time so we can talk about what happened and how you feel. Hopefully, your visit here will be productive, and by the time you leave, you'll be ready to rejoin society."
"Sounds good."
>She smiles.
>"I'm glad to hear it. Now then, you'll be placed in Group D, which means it's time for Arts and Crafts. Let's get going."
>You arrive at the Arts and Crafts room.
>It reminds you of your elementary school’s art room, actually.
>Sunlight shines through a window that takes up almost all of the wall opposite of the door, illuminating the room.
>Various works of art line the walls in varying stages of completion.
>The room gives off a cozy aura, and you wouldn’t mind spending a while here.
>The guard notices you enter and walks up.
>”Ah, the new arrival! Good timing, we’re just getting started here. Help yourself to any materials you see lying around.”
“Okay.”
>You’re kind of shit at art, but you notice a stack of square paper that would be perfect for origami
>.After a few failed attempts, you manage to make a passable crane.
>You proceed to make four more cranes because you’re kind of shit at origami too.
>Your fellow jailbirds seem impressed.
>You suppose origami would be a pretty rare art around here, given that nobody has fingers.
>Eventually, Arts and Crafts ends.

>Group D heads back to the cafeteria for a snack.
>Everyone swaps stories of how they ended up here.
>They apparently do this every snack time because at least two or three members will have left by then.
>When it comes to your turn, you explain your story, which receives a few horrified gasps.
>One of the mares mutters something along the lines of “can’t believe I’m in here with people like this”.
>The rest of the day is relatively uneventful, and eventually night comes.

>You get a cell to yourself, presumably because of the serious nature of your crime.
>It’s actually nicer than your apartment, somehow.
>It has three rooms including a bathroom, locking doors, a mini-fridge, a tv, and the comfiest fold-out couch you’ve had the privilege to sit on in your life.
>Of course, the tv only tunes into the news and the nature channel, because it’s prison.
>As promised, Jubilee eventually swings by.
>”Hi, Anon! Sorry, may I call you Anon?”
“Sure.”
>”Okay, good. I didn’t mean to assume. How are you holding up?”
”Pretty well, I guess.”
>”That’s reassuring. Some don’t adapt nearly as well. Is anything on your mind?”
“I found out I’m okay at Arts and Crafts, I guess.”
>She doesn’t have to know the truth.
>”I heard! You have quite a way with paper, it turns out.”
“Do you think I could hang on to one of those? I outdid myself.”
>Sadly, you’re not exaggerating, those were among the best things you’ve ever created.
>You’re REALLY shit at origami.
>”Of course! They’re all yours, after all. I’ll have them delivered to your cell by tomorrow afternoon.”
“Thanks, Jubilee.”
>”Not at all, Nonnie!”
>Realizing what she just said, the mare blushes.
>”Err, Anon. I’m sorry, that just slipped! Well then, you seem all set here, so I’ll let you get some rest. Tomorrow will be a busy day! Good night.”
“Night.”
>You stay up until 2 watching the nature channel before passing out.

>The next day, you wake up around 10:30.
>As soon as you’ve showered and changed, you wait in the room closest to the cell door for escorting.
>There’s nothing barring you from leaving, but you aren’t in a hurry.
>About eleven minutes later, a guard walks by.
>”Ah, Anonymous! I was going to fetch you around 7, but you seemed tired, so I let you rest. Right this way, please.”
“Okay.”
>The guard takes you to the cafeteria, where all the prisoners are gathered for Friday brunch.
>As you enter, the room quiets.
>You hear a few whispers of “he didn’t pay”.
>Ponies are bad at whispering.
>You grab a tray and start serving yourself, and the chatter slowly builds up to its former level.
>The choices are somewhat limited.
>They have toast, apples, oranges, pears. biscuits, hay, scones, cereal, pancakes, waffles, bagels, and croissants.
>You settle on a small pile of hay and 7 pears.
>Looking around for a seat, you notice Jubilee alone at a table.
>She looks up, smiles, and beckons you over.
>”Good morning, Anon! Did you sleep well?”
“I guess.”
>”It was pretty lucky for you that today’s brunch day, because you would’ve missed breakfast otherwise! Well, Monday and Wednesday are also brunch days, but still.”
>You sit and consider your food.
>Why did you get hay again?
>You’ve probably had worse ideas than eating hay, you suppose.
>A quick taste determines that no, you have not.
>Jubilee notices you gagging.
>”Goodness! Is that hay not to your liking?”
“Sorry, I haven’t had it in a while.”
>Never before is kind of like a while.
>”Really? I can see how it would be a bit of a shock to eat after abstaining, I suppose.”
>You bite into a pear to get the taste out of your mouth.
>Aw yiss.
>Mother fuckin’ pears.
>”Did you get a chance to check the day plan before you got here?”
“No.”
>”Alright, let me help you out! Let’s see... Today, Group D is playing outside, then having lunch, a nap, reading time, snack, play time, dinner, and then bed. How does that sound?”
“Pretty good, I guess.”
>”Just pretty good? I can arrange for another snack, if you’d like. Special cases get more lenient schedules to help them cope.”
“I’m fine, thanks.”
>”Alright then. I’ve got to get going. Paperwork doesn’t do itself! It was nice eating with you, though. Want to do lunch?”
“Sure.”
>”Okay, it’s a date!”
>She blushes again.
>”Err, not... you know... oh, see you later!”
>She runs off quickly.
>You finish your pears and contemplate getting seconds.
>Before you have the chance to act, though, the intercom chimes in.
>”Brunch is now over. Please make your way to your groups for departure.”
>By this point everyone who was in your group around snacktime yesterday has been set free, but each group’s letter is painted on the wall, so you head over to the D with everyone else.
>Heh.
>Once everyone in the room is with their respective group, they take off to their destinations.

>You were expecting a guard to guide you `around yesterday, but it seems that they’re stationed at the activities themselves, and not babysitting the groups.
>You haven’t been to prison back home, but you’re fairly sure it’s not like this there.
>Anyway, playing outside.
>There’s a playground outside that puts your elementary school’s to shame.
>This is the sort of play equipment that children dream of.
>At least you did, anyway, but you could understand if nobody else did.
>You always were sort of odd.
>Once the shock of this sweet playground wears off, an orange colt approaches you.
>”Hey Anon, the name’s Nutmeg Strudel. Word around the prison is you’re a pretty tough guy, yeah?”
“Absolutely.”
>”Heh, you look it. I figured that a man like yourself has no regard for the rules, you dig?”
“Sure.”
>”That’s what I like to hear, my man.”
>You’re not fully sure if this conversation is actually happening.
>”So... you’d be willing to pull some real funny business, right?”
“Depends, I guess.”
>”How about... helping me get out?”
>You think about it.
“I don’t see why not.”
>”Most capital.”
>This conversation is definitely not happening.
“What’s the plan?”
>”The plan? Alright, I’ll spill. We’re gonna mosey on over to the wall over there-” he gestures to a three foot high wall to the left of the entrance- “and you’ll give me a boost out.”
“Give you a boost?”
>”Shh!”
>He glares at you, and looks around suspiciously.
>”Just make it work.”
“Okay.”
>”Alright, alright. I don’t mean to forego stealth completely, but... GO!”
>Yelling the last word as a sort of battlecry, he books it to the wall in question.
>You walk over, despite his impatient gestures.
>Nobody pays either of you any mind.
>They probably just think you’re racing or something.
>”Alright, Anon, gimme the boost!”
>You consider the situation, ultimately deciding to pick him up around his midsection and lift him over.
>As soon as his front hooves touch the top of the wall, though, a shrill whistle sounds and the playground guard hurries over.
>”Nutmeg! I’ve already told you, you’re not allowed to go out that way! It doesn’t matter that your time ended fifteen minutes ago, you have to use the front door like everypony else.”
>You think that’s the most strict example of rule enforcement you’ve seen since you came.
>”Gosh, fine, you got me. Is it cool if I chill here a while longer, though? It’s such a nice day and I don’t feel like walking.”
>”Well, of course! Enjoy yourself, but don’t try anything like that again.”
>Nutmeg wanders off, leaving just you and the guard.
>”Anonymous, let me guess, did Nutmeg try to lure you into yet another one of his escape schemes?”
“Yeah.”
>”I figured as much... Unfortunately, the punishment for trying to help another prisoner escape is another day of jail time.”
”Okay.”
>”I’m sorry, but that’s just how it- wait, did you say okay?”
“Mhm.”
>”You’re just accepting it?”
“I don’t see a problem.”
>”Alright...”
>The guard eyes you intently, perhaps wondering if you’ve snapped.
>You ponder that as well, just in case, but thankfully you don’t seem to have.
>At least, unless you have and you just can’t tell.
>You proceed to spend the next hour on the swings, until Group D is called in for lunch.

>As you arrive at the cafeteria, you notice Jubilee waiting at the door.
>”Hi Anon! Are we still on for our da- err, lunch?”
“Sure.”
>”Alright! Let’s get going.”
>She walks away from the cafeteria.
>You’re not exactly sure what’s happening, but you follow her, because why not?
>She leads you right outside the front door and onto the sidewalk.
>”I hate to burst your bubble, but you’re not out of jail yet, Anon. However, I arranged for us to have lunch outside the facility today. We don’t want you going stir-crazy, after all!”
>Okay, you’re really sure that jails back home wouldn’t allow this.
>But again, you haven’t been.
>Maybe they do?
>You consider getting sent to jail if you ever return for the sake of comparison.
>”I didn’t actually have a destination in mind. What are you hungry for?”
>It is at this point that you notice that Jubilee now smells strongly of pears.
>Like, /strongly/.
>This pleases you.
>Pears are God, after all.
“I like your perfume.”
>Once again, the mare blushes.
>”Oh, err, do you? Haha, it’s just some old scent I found laying around and decided to try out today. I’m glad it’s a good one, I guess-”
>Apparently too caught up in what she was saying to watch where she was going, she bumps into a restaurant’s sidewalk sign.
>”Oh goodness! My bad. Say, let’s stop here for food if you’re okay with that.”
>...this is the place you got sent to jail for in the first place.
>This would be awkward, but you’re hungry and they had good food here.
“Sounds good.”

>You seat yourselves at an open-air table and scan the menu. 
>They seem to serve vegetable-based dishes here, as well as a few hay-related meals.
>You’re all set on hay, so you order a tossed garden salad with a side of fruit.
>Jubilee gets a mini-bale and a small bowl of mixed greens.
>The waiter clearly recognizes you, but he doesn’t say anything.
>Perhaps he figures you’ve already learned your lesson?
>”It actually took a bit of convincing to get the higher-ups to allow this, specifically because of your crime.”
“Makes sense.”
>”That said, I just know you’ve learned your lesson by now, right?”
“Of course.”
>You learned it when you got arrested, but whatever.
>She smiles.
>”I knew it. To think you’ve made so much progress in such a short time... I’m proud of you, Anon! I know you’ve got two long days ahead of you, but don’t worry, it’ll be over in no time.”
>It would seem that she’s heard of your extended incarceration already. 
>”By the way, about Nutmeg... I’m sorry he got you involved with his mischief. He’s always like that. I’m making an appeal to the board of directors that you helping him shows your willingness to lend a hand to anypony in need, which should serve to lessen your sentence somewhat. I’ll keep you updated on that.”
>She seems really passionate about this.
>You don’t have the heart to tell her that you wouldn’t mind staying longer.
>Just then, your food arrives.
>You take a cursory look through your fruits to determine how good this meal will be.
>Apple, orange, and banana slices are arranged neatly, with some grapes in the center.
>Dammit.
>”We can talk more later, but I’ll let you eat for now. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving!”
>She digs into the hay with unexpected ferocity.
>You sigh quietly and content yourself with the salad.
>It’s actually not bad, and some mixed nuts give it a well-needed serving of protein.
>Despite the gross and condemnable lack of pears, the fruit is fresh and delicious.
>As you finish eating, you notice Jubilee staring at you, a wide and genuine smile plastered on her face.
>”Mm, that really hit the spot! How was yours, Anon?”
“Pretty good.”
>”I’m glad to hear it! Right then, we’ll pay for our meal and be off.”
>Right, they do that here.
>Well, they do that back home, too.
>You suppose the concept of compensation for food is truly universal.
>Jubilee leaves full payment and a tip above what would be expected, and the two of you head back for prison at a leisurely pace.
>Nutmeg wasn’t kidding, today’s weather is great.

>On the way back, Jubilee keeps stealing glances at you.
>Understandably, as despite your good behavior, you’re still a prisoner.
>She can’t risk you running off.
>Honestly, you couldn’t make yourself run right now.
>The temperature is perfect and there’s not a cloud in the sky.
>You’re going to savor it as much as you possibly can.
>Eventually, Jubilee clears her throat.
>”So, Anon... I meant to tell you this earlier, but the Arts and Crafts instructor doesn’t have your paper birds anymore.”
>Dammit.
>”He sent them off to a museum. Nopony has ever seen anything like them!”
>Well, that’s something at least.
>At least your shitty origami skills would contribute to the cultural advancement of horse town.
“That’s good, I guess.”
>”You’re not disappointed?”
“No, not really.”
>”Promise?”
“Promise.”
>You cross your fingers behind your back as you say this.
>Promises are serious business.
>Eventually the two of you find yourselves back at the jail.
>Jubilee checks the clock and gasps.
>”I’m so sorry, Anon! We were too slow and you missed naptime. If you’d like, you can skip reading time for a nap.
“I’ll just go to reading time.”
>There’s no way in hell you’re missing story time. 
>Word on the playground was that today you’d be finding out what the Very Hungry Caterpillar ate on the seventh day.
>Apparently, shit got pretty real on the sixth day.
>”Anon, I know you’re big enough to make your own choices, but... won’t you be tired without your nap? I’m feeling a bit exhausted, myself.”
>Truth be told, you wouldn’t mind a nap too much, but sometimes sacrifices needed to be made for the greater good.
”I’ll be fine, Ju- Jubilee?” 
>She wasn’t kidding.
>She passed out on the floor and was beginning to snore.
>You don’t know the way to reading time, and you guess she probably shouldn’t be left on the floor.
>She might be in someone’s way.
>You sigh, accepting that you’ll now never know what was eaten on the seventh day, and pick up Jubilee.
>She mumbles to herself a little as you bring her to your cell and lay her on the fold-out bed.
>You’d drop her off at the guard’s bedtime rooms, but you don’t know where those are.
>You adjust the blankets to make her comfortable and admire your handiwork.
>She’s sleeping peacefully, and the sight is kind of cute, but now you’re even more sleepy from the exertion of carrying her.
>You shrug and enter the neighboring cell, tune the TV to the nature channel, and rest on their bed.

>It’s kind of crowded in the cell when you wake up.
>There are at least five guards and a familiar orange male.
>”Heeeeeeeeey, Anon! Fancy meeting you here, my man.”
>Of course Nutmeg has a cell next to yours.
>You’re not sure why you weren’t expecting this.
“Hi Nutmeg. What’s going on?”
>”What’s going on? I’ll tell you what’s going on. What’s going on is that I get back from reading time and there’s you sleeping in my bed is what’s going on! I figured, eh, my cell is your cell, but you were sleeping so long that you missed snack and play time! The guards are worried you’ll miss dinner too, is all.”
“Oh.”
>One of the guards steps forward.
>”Anonymous, right? We apologize for letting you miss two scheduled activities, but you seemed mighty tired. I hope none of us woke you.”
“No, I ran out of sleep on my own.”
>The guard has to pause and process that before answering.
>”Good to know. We’ll have you escorted to dinner right away. Not to worry, when the kitchen staff heard you’d be late, they set some food aside for you.”
>”Psst, Anon!”
>Nutmeg was blatantly not trying to whisper.
>”Don’t settle for cafe food tonight! I kicked a hole through the bathroom wall, and we’re busting outta here, brother!”
>The guards give him a Look, not sure if he’s serious or not.
>They’re also trying to figure out if you’ll go along with it.
“Nah, too hungry. Have fun.”
>”Man, that’s no way to live your life! You gotta be FREE! FREEEE!”
>Nutmeg bolts for the bathroom, kicking the door off its hinges.
>True to his word, there’s a large hole through what used to be the wall of his bathroom.
>He manages to get out, but one of the guards lassos him and pulls him back in.
>”Honestly, Nutmeg! That’s another half-day each for both counts of property damage!
>”Aww, but-”
>”No buts, mister, or you’re fixing the wall too!”
>The lasso-wielding guard turns to you.
>”I’m proud of you for resisting the temptation to flee this time, Anon. You’ve really changed, I can tell! Go grab dinner before it gets cold.”
“Okay.”
>You figure the guards will be busy with Nutmeg for a good while, so you escort yourself to the cafeteria.