"I'm not normally this tired... Perhaps Twilight could help." Rarity said to herself. As she left her home, she began to feel rather lightheaded, probably thanks to how tired she still was... But perhaps not.
--At Twilight's library--
"Hm... Monosyllabic responses, dilated pupils, and, no offense, you look a little chubbier than usual. This isn't just a sleeping disorder, Rarity. You seem to be under the effects of a spell!"
"So?" Rarity replied, not sure what she meant. "Could you just give me, like, an energy spell or something?"
"I'm afraid that would be fighting the symptoms, not the disease... Or spell, in this case. You appear to be under the effects of a metamorphosis spell, unlike any I've ever seen before. Nevertheless, I'm sure a simple counterspell will get you back to your normal state.
"Well, okay, I guess," Rarity said absentmindedly, "But what's it all mean?"
"You've been cursed, Rarity."
"Well, buck," She muttered, stretching out in the seat, "Can you fix it? It's, like, nearly lunchtime."
Twilight blinked, not used to her friend acting like this. "Right, well, just wait there. I left my book of counterspells in the lab. I won't be a minute!"
Rarity slumped in her seat. "So boored!" She moaned, picking up a book to read. "Now is the winter of our disconte... Discon... Dis... Argh! Too hard," She groaned, tossing it away carelessly.
There weren't any magazines around, and all the books were too hard for her. Glancing at the doorway to the lab, she wondered if Twilight would ever come back. The clock on the wall was analog, and who could read that? "Ugh, I wish this place would get blown up by some kaiju-sized goat-taur dude."