You reach down and whip out a huge sheet of paper from underneath your workbench, startling Twilight. She jumps far enough back for you to snatch a couple more pages from near where she stood. You look around your desk for a pen, then scowl when you see the stick of pencil you’ve been using. Could pony manufacturing advance far enough to make a ballpoint before you die? Taking it up, you vigorously circle an entry on the page, then start making a couple notes next to it.