        A light blue mare with a blue and silver mane walked up to the table. Trixie Lulamoon wore a smile as forced as the frills on her apron. As her eyes met Twilight, her smile died and morphed into a scowl as she trudged over while levitating with her a serving tray with two glasses of water and a bottle of sarsaparilla. She placed them down with a clink that was somewhere between painfully polite and exasperated.