//------------------------------// // Chapter 2: Ponies Are Strange // Story: A Nightmare in Ponyville // by Paleo Prints //------------------------------// A Nightmare in Ponyville By Paleo Prints Chapter 2: Ponies are Strange The market stalls of Ponyville hummed with activity in the faint ending of the afternoon sun. Up and down the street could be found vendors laying an appraising eye on their potential customers, shifting their maximum price based on the fullness of their coin purse. The life of a Ponyville merchant was based on squeezing out the price for whatever the market could bear. They had heard of the concept of a fair market, and based on the title alone had decided they wanted none of it. In the middle of the busy throng of ponydom, Surprise sat on a bench, completely alone. Surprise scanned the crowd restlessly down the street from Sugarcube Corner. She sighed, resting her head on the seat. To Ponyville’s credit, every so often a stranger would approach the pensive teen and ask if they could help. Her response was always in the negative, though she considered carefully each time. Eventually, Surprise could no longer stand the anticipation. She closed her eyes. The sounds of Ponyville drifted away, as if the town was quietly receding at the approach of a predator. She heard the wind pick up, smelling uncomfortable scents along the breeze. Eventually she made out the sound of a large, asymmetrical mass dragging itself along the ground. “It’s not that bad.” Surprise shook her head. “It’s not that bad. Don’t look at the heads. Stay away from the paw and don’t look at the heads.” Surprise had gritted her teeth in anticipation. Suddenly the noise stopped behind her as she heard an indignant snort. Ignoring every instinct, she opened her eyes. The streets of Ponyville were deserted underneath a cold and moonless night sky. Surprise had never even imagined a moonless sky. She now truly felt abandoned. A large and indistinct shape stepped away from an alley and solidified. Two yellow eyes glowed from the top. Loudly snapping something like fingers, the shadow produced a clipboard. In that second of illumination, Surprise saw in his eyes an wellspring of malice that would patiently grind down mountains out of spite. “I don’t like having my fun spoiled. Let’s check your permanent record. Everything really does go on there, you know.” Suddenly peering through a pair of glasses, it gave out a masculine chuckle dripping with menace. “Well my dear, according to this you’re afraid of spiders, terrified of rejection, and… ” Surprise and the shadow simultaneously spoke the words “slightly clairvoyant.” Surprise smiled. She knew it was the one thing she’d get on him this encounter. The shadow sighed. “Well, this is a joyless endeavor. Your dreams called me here! Why did you even bother volunteering?” She swallowed slowly. “So my friends get more time to figure this out.” The yellow-eyed darkness snorted. “How noble. How heroic. I just threw up in my mouth a little.” He sighed. “You’re no fun at all. The show must go on, though. So, you’ve been spoiled. It was the sled, he was dead the entire play, and the butler did it.” Surprise shuddered. His tone dripped with frustration, like a tsunami grumbling about the beach conditions. “Um… yes.” The shadow suddenly twirled around, draping himself in a cape. He twirled a sporty new mustache. “Oh course my dear, you must know I’m not letting you leave.” She nodded slowly “Hmm.” The shadow pulled off his new top hat and idly inspected a rabbit pulled from within. “How can I entertain myself with a spoiled audience?” A light bulb ignited next to his head, paradoxically taking none of the darkness away. He stepped forward until he loomed over Surprise. “You know what’s coming, huh?” “Y-yes.” “You know that no one’s coming to save you.” “M-maybe.” His eyes narrowed. “You don’t actually believe you’ll win, do you?” Surprise slowly nodded. The darkness snorted out a cloud of candied fireballs. “Let me sway you of those pathetic notions.” He grinned malevolently. “I’m going to teleport to the other side of town. I’m going to make something to chase you. You know what’s coming, you know that it’ll catch you, and you still won’t be able to resist running. I’ll even leave you your wings. You’ll be easy to spot in the sky, after all.” The shadow disappeared, only the yellow eyes remaining. “Time to learn a lesson, my dear. Sometimes, it’s better not to know.” He paused as something angry roared from the other side of town. “Sometimes, it’s better to be caught… by ‘Surprise.’ See you soon, dear!” From the other side of town a terrible cacophony sounded. It howled. It whined. It was after her. Surprise shivered. Then she ran. Cheerilee knew that time travel was real. She’d never forgotten a drunk Twilight ranting about trying to stop time. One of her favorite students had written a detailed paper on combining explosives with chronomancy, literally intent on blowing herself into the past. In every case, Cheerilee had been impressed with the difficulty inherent in overcoming the chains of time. These things flashed into her mind as she stepped onto the Ponyville train station platform and realized the secret of time travel; Twilight and Bomber needed to simplify things. The moment her mother started toying with her hair Cheerilee felt that she had transformed into a moody, resentful teenager again. “Mom,” she protested as a hoof smoothed her mane backwards. “Please stop. It’s just nap mane.” Cheerilee’s mother pulled back with the concern of a doctor stopping treatment. Orchid Petal’s violet coat and bright red mane never strayed away from perfection. She had served for decades as the face of the family seed business, and had a hard time letting appearances drop. Cheerilee often wondered how much of their client loyalty stemmed from the semi-flirtatious monthly visits many of them spent at the seed warehouse. I’ll never forget the night I heard Dad yelling at her over the amount of tail-bouncing she was doing in front of the customers. I know it was an important deal, but I’m sure she was… “moving enough product” for their tastes. An older stallion, muscular despite his age, made his presence known by tapping on the ground behind Orchid. Thorn Seed was carnation pink with a white mane, the kind of coloration one would expect from a ballet dancer. Much as intentionally naming a newborn colt something like “Fluffy Frilliness,” “Missy Pretty,” or “Sue,” his coloration had a hardening effect on the adolescent Thorn. Years of defending his stallionhood produced the unfriendly stare he now shot at Red. Red Glare pulled an overburdened cart out of the train car. Straining at the weight, Red accidentally jolted the cart off of the train’s gangplank. Fallen suitcases convulsed, casting their wares along the platform. Other busily departing ponies gave Red irritated glares as he worked to refill the cart of spilled belongings. Thorn shook his head. “You should find yourself some stud who's a little less clumsy.” “Dad,” Cheerilee said as she scowled. “I’m married.” “Give it time, dear.” “Happily married, Dad.” Orchid snorted as she lifted a set of green and white socks, bound together with a scarlet ribbon. “Apparently,” she said with a wistful smile as she tossed the clothes back to Red. Cheerilee covered her face with her hoof. The four adults were interrupted by the approach of Screwball’s wagon. Out of the claustrophobic train cars, the filly had started to regain some of her usual cheer. “Grandma!” She threw her hooves around the neck of a discomforted Thorn, who gave his wife an embarrassed glance. “Yes, Honey. Welcome to Ponyville.” He gently pushed her away and stepped back a few hooves. “Well, shouldn't we go someplace… more private?” Ponies gave Screwball looks of interest and confusion. Thorn Seed nearly withered in the attentive stares of the passersby. Orchid noted Screwy’s confused look and stepped closer, resting her neck across the younger pony’s own. “Oh, come here Screwy. It’s good to see you.” Screwy nuzzled Orchid’s chin. “Grandpa! Me am so sad to be here!” Cheerilee sighed as Red finally managed to pull a restocked cart into the conversation. “So, how’re we doing in terms of… you know.” He almost unobtrusively inclined his head toward her parents. She shrugged. “All told, it’s about a seven out of ten.” She suddenly grinned happily. “Just put on your most encouraging teacher face and nod, dear.” Nodding philosophically, Red smiled back as the group headed away from the platform. The sounds of bustling Ponyville danced around Screwball, filling her ears and eyes with a festive atmosphere that was far from the simple pragmatism of Old Canterlot. Her family was making noises with their mouths, but there were so many more interesting things to observe! Concentrating on architecture alone revealed to her three distinct building styles of roofs that denoted different periods of construction. Screwball wondered how anyone could walk the streets without marveling at the roofs, to say nothing of the artistic touches hidden in the hanging signs of the businesses! Conversations filtered into the whirlwind of Screwball’s consciousness. “So, are Lyra and Bon-Bon serious? How old is the kid?” “Did you hear what Bitbiter’s charging for cherries this week?” “One, two, Discord's coming for you. Yakety Sax, Five Tons of Flax.” She stopped, scanning the marketplace for whoever was talking about the Bad Father. Her eyes settled on a small group of foals playing jump-rope when a burst of purple light filled her vision, depositing a tired yet happy unicorn. “Cheerilee!” “Twilight!” The two mares embraced. “Lee, I am so glad that the teaching job worked out for you.” For a moment Twilight Sparkle breathed quickly. “Twilight?” Cheerilee chose her words carefully. “Is something wrong?” Her friend stared off and smiled widely, clear body language to anyone who knew her that something was wrong. “Oh, nothing’s up. Say, have you seen Spike lately? I haven’t been able to find him since last night.” As Cheerilee listened intently, Red’s father-in-law leaned over to him. “Listen Red, while she’s talking to that… um… lavender unicorn there… ” “Sir, her name is Twilight Sparkle. It’s a nice name, so you might as well use it. Say, isn't she supposed to be one of your daughter’s best friends?” Thorn cast an inquisitive glance at his wife. She nodded. Raising an eyebrow, he cast an analytic gaze over Twilight. “One of her… college friends, dear?” She shook her head. “Anyway Reddie, have you given any thought to that talk we had? You maybe considered my idea of going into administration?” Red giggled. The grin it brought to Thorn’s face was not a happy one. “Oh, no. I love the classroom way too much. It’s where I belong.” His in-laws exchanged a look. “Red,” prompted Orchid politely, “school administrators make more, don’t they?” Red nodded. “Three to four times more, Miss.” They both stared at him expectantly. He merely returned an oblivious smile. An exasperated sigh exploded out of Thorn. “Are we speaking minotaur at the moment or something?” “Oh no, not at all sir. You’d be putting a lot more emphasis on the ‘ch’ sounds.” Cheerilee walked back into the conversation, concern preventing her from noticing her father’s growing rage. “All right everypony, let’s keep an eye out for a missing baby dragon while we’re about. Screwy, are you okay?” Screwball stood away from the group, looking off into space while drawing glances from passers-by. No matter how hard she stared at the spot Twilight had occupied she couldn't find the playing children she had heard. Somewhere that was nowhere, Spike the dragon sat on nothing. “Hello! Hey, is anybody there?” The nervous youngster looked around at the encompassing dark. “Could somebody turn on a light?” He looked down at his hands. “Wait. I can see myself fine. It can’t be dark out. This place makes no sense.” Spike stood up. If Cheerilee had managed to see him, she would have been surprised at his growth since she had left. The confused dragon grit his teeth in a mouth that had become much more snout-like. While not quite taller than a pony, he was at least able to reach the top of a unicorn’s horn with his gangly arms. Rarity now described him as her “strong, big Spikey-Wikey.” The description came to him ironically as a force roughly shoved him and spun him back onto his “seat.” Spike was lying back on the “couch” of darkness, blinking in confusion when the voice spoke. “Gut! You’re here for your appointment. Ve vill start on time, zen!” Searching for the voice made Spike aware of two yellow eyes brightly lit behind a pair of horn-rimmed glasses. They sat on a shadow, differentiated by the surrounding dark by the slightest contrast of brightness. “Um. Hello, Mister Shadow Person. I’m on a couch. How does that work? I mean, it looks like it’s the same thing as everything else, but it’s a couch. Weird, huh? Hey, didn't I walk through a door to get here? It was a lot brighter a second ago. Where’d the music go?” The shadow rubbed its brow with an odd claw. “Ja, of course, forget about it, now we should begin… “ Spike pushed up onto his elbows. “Hey, am I dreaming?” The shadow briefly bit it’s forefinger in frustration. “Ja, indeed! You a dreaming, mein herr! So zen, nothing bad can happen in a dream, right? Shall we begin?” Spike waved a hand. “Sure. Hey, do I get a supporting cast? Maybe like, Rarity or Apple Bloom? Can I dream some food here?” The shadow glared at him. Spike eased himself back onto the nonexistent couch. “Man, my subconscious is a jerk.” “Wunderbar! Wunderbar. Danke for quieting down, little dragon. Let’s begin.” He raised a quill with a glowing tip. “Tell me about your mother.” Spike blinked. “I… I don’t know anything about her. Is it weird that I think of Twilight as my mom? I mean, would my real mom mind?” The shadow giggled. “We’re off to a good start, ja! I see you have zo many crippling emotional issues to choose from! Zere’s your fear of hurting all you love, your isolation from your own kind, etcetera. We can vork on ze teenage body issues later, perhaps combined mit you adorable hopeless crush on that pony. Zo, we choose an issue, set things in motion, don’t mention ze the war… ” “Can I ask a question, scary sir?” Spike twiddled his thumbs as he stared into nothing. “Is zis… is this really a dream? ‘Cause I wouldn't mind waking up right now. I think we've reached the freak out quota.” Spike had heard maniacal laughter plenty of times before. Sometimes it was from a dark-hearted villain while he was at Twilight’s side on a daring adventure. Occasionally it was from Twilight herself, most recently after devising the ill-fated scheme of self-returning library books. Regardless, he considered himself a connoisseur, and the peals of dark delight that the shadowy figure bellowed was among the most disturbing he ever heard. The accent certainly added to the creepiness. As the shadow recovered, it wiped a tear off dramatically. “My little draconic delinquent, you aren't comprehending the position that you’re in. I can’t have your gastro-intestinal communication system alerting Her Majesty’s Little Mary Sue Sunshine to what’s going on. I may pick on others for comedic value, but you?" The shadow stood at attention in a battle helmet, a striped shirt and medal-decorated epaulets. “You’re a priority target, son!” He pulled a lever, catapulting Spike through the darkness. As he shot high into the air he made the mistake of looking down. He had always known Fluttershy to freeze when she saw the ground get far enough away. At the moment the only rational thought that broke through the fear was his wish to at least see the ground as he hurtled through the lightless abyss. Spike’s momentum suddenly stopped as his feet touched something solid. The ground had rushed up to meet him, leaving him to idly wonder if it had answered his pleas. He still couldn't see anything. Feeling around in the darkness revealed a flimsy-feeling prison of wood. Spike raised his fist and hesitated. He scratched his chin. A smile spread across his face as Spike crossed his long, lanky arms and sat down. “Oh, scary. I’m in a dark box. Y’know, I could just sit here, Mister Shadow. What’re you gonna do if I don’t play?” The petulant purple prisoner laughed. “You can hear me, can’t you? Well, let’s use that against you. What’s that band that Pinkie listens to, again?” Spike placed his claws on his knees, breathed in deeply, and started crooning loudly and off-key. For once he was thankful for the scratchy voice of puberty. “Particle mare, particle mare. Doin’ the things a particle caaaaaaaaaaaaaaan!” The box side’s ignited into green flame. Spike lifted a remonstrative finger. “That’s not fair or smart. Y’know I’m a dragon, right? Kinda fireproof.” The flaming walls fell away, revealing a miniature Ponyville. Spike’s eyes narrowed. It was a perfect reproduction of the town on a tiny scale. He could see the library was only about a hoof or so tall. While part of him wanted to laugh, a small and hidden part of his brain screamed, begging him to run away. “Okay. What kinda game are we playin’ here?” The rest of his brain remembered as the first pony screamed. Flinching at the high pitch, he looked down and saw ponies the size of salt shakers running in fear. Spike felt indignant heat rise in his throat. “Oh. Not cool. Not funny. Okay, I’m still just going to sit here and… ” Spike fell over as two dozen hard objects slammed into his side. It seemed to happen in slow motion as the bulk of a collapsing Ponyville cottage strained against his weight. Spike stood up to see dozens of Wonderbolts and Royal Guards flying around him in formation. “Not. Gonna. Work.” Spike carefully pushed himself up, ignoring the impacts of the military ponies. They hurt, but he was focused on avoiding the situation he was being railroaded into. This time I can talk, you stupid shadow. Spike coughed into his hand to clear his throat as wave after wave of unicorn shock troops pelted his back with spears. He took a deep breath. “Listen, everyone! We’re being played!” That was what he wanted to say. What came out was a burst of green flame so hot his back fins visibly glowed. Spike watched helplessly as a swath of Ponyville caught fire, a trail of devastation culminating at the focal point of the blaze. “Oh, no. Celestial sisters, no.” The Carousel Boutique was wreathed in flames. It’s beautifully painted exterior peeled away from the walls like charred skin. The top sagged as the walls turned to smoke, gravity dragging it straight down into the building. Spike grabbed his head and turned away, tears in his eyes. “This isn't real. This isn't real.” He cupped his hands as he shouted into the air. “Hey, Dream-guy? You suck at this!” The only thing he produced was flame. The assembled soldiers stopped for a second, their attention helplessly captive at the bright devastation. Spike could hear the two closest pegasi soldiers hovering and discussing the sight. “Sarge, w-wasn’t that the shelter?” “Buck it, they told me that building was more structurally secure! I hope it was quick for the ponies inside.” Spike’s eyes widened. “No. No. No. No.” “That’s monster’s stronger than the last time. It’s ten times worse now!” The soldiers wheeled in a wagon with a metal sculpture made to look like an angry unicorn. The wagon's horn threw bolts of lightning into the anxious dragon's thigh. Spike didn't even notice. Spike’s knees hit the ground, the shock wave overturning nearby merchant carts. His claws gripped both sides of his head tightly. “No. Not happening.” He realized he could hear agonized screaming of overwhelming familiarity. Spike threw back his head. “This is not happening!” “Hey, man. Good job.” Spike’s heart jumped as a loud voice boomed over the sound of the dwindling Ponyville population. He turned to see a gigantic gangly red dragon stomping down on Sugarcube Corner. The humongous teen gave him a thumbs-up. “Garble?” Spike started sweating at the memories of the ill-fated Great Dragon Migration years ago. “What’re you doing here?” “Same thing you are, dude. Not as good as you, I have to say! I thought you’d turn out to be a great dragon, man. Good work. Help me divvy up the ponies, here.” With a roar of rage Spike threw himself at the other dragon. His shoulder slammed into the stunned monster’s chest, sending him falling backwards onto the Ponyville schoolhouse. As he bull-rushed the other dragon, Spike stepped on the unicorn-shaped wagon, crushing it to gravel. One Royal Guard raised an exasperated eyebrow toward another. "Those darn things never work." Garble started to stand. He smiled, picking up the Ponyville joke shop. A terrified mare beat her hooves against the window inside. “Ah, yeah. Building fight!” As the military surrounded him Spike dropped to his knees, the very cobblestones of Ponyville melting into slag from his flaming tears. Dinner was not going well. Cheerilee watched her flower soup philosophically. One of her blossoms wasn't performing its floating duty competantly. Most of the symmetrical flowers sailed the soupy sea just fine. Just one of the floating delicacies was suffering because of its asymmetrical petals. The unique flower began taking on broth, eventually sinking to the bottom of the bowl as the remaining identical treats floated on. Cheerilee sighed. She forced herself back into the conversation. “So we took first place this year,” Red happily chirped as her parents stared back nonplussed. “The kids weren't able to get their rocket back, though. Well, most of it. They have talent. I really think some of them may join Princess Luna’s rocket program.” “Really, son?” Thorn rolled his eyes. “How good is the gardening on the Moon?” Red was warming to the subject. “Well, any plants on the lunar surface would flash-boil almost instantly. Surprisingly, the loss of temperature causes water and blood to boil in such a low atmosphere.” Thorn stopped, sighing. “Then why would I want a single bit of my taxes going to send ponies there?” He took a long sip of his soup as Red blinked back in confusion. Looking back, Thorn shook his head slowly. “Boy, I keep Equestria fed. You babysit foals with firecrackers.” “And I babysit foals with stories?” The table stared at Cheerilee, still staring into her bowl. Her mother coughed. “No, dear. Teaching ponies to read is a wonderful thing.” “I mean, reading a book I can understand.” Thorn inclined a hoof toward Red. “But playin’ around with plastic tubes and pots and pans… ” Cheerilee leaned onto the table with her forelimbs. Casting a quick glance, she breathed in relief that Screwball was away from the table. “Dad, it took a pony like him to build all the wonderful stuff that keeps the business running. Or would you rather go back to 'One pony, one rake'?” Petal cleared her throat. “So, Red. When are we going to have a grandchild?” Red stayed silent as he considered. “You do,” he finally stated. His mother-in-law nickered in embarrassment as she looked to her husband for a conversational rescue. “Son, Cheerilee, what your mother means is a real grandchild.” Cheerilee cocked her head, and alarms sounded in Red's brain as he looked at her face. Most ponies would have seen it as a blank, neutral expression. He lived with her. He scooted six inches away from his wife. He immediately rolled his eyes, thought about loyalty and couches, and scooted twelve inches towards her. Cheerilee smiled the grin Diamond Tiara would get from her after dropping ink in someone’s mane. “Screwball is a real grandchild. She’s my daughter. Regardless of how she got here… ” Thorn scratched his beard as he coughed nervously. “I don’t care how Discord… I mean… I hope magic was involved. Y’know, I don’t wanna think about him and, um, things I’ve never seen before behind bolted doors.” Even Petal was watching Thorn trying to recover his composure. “I mean, Discord was supposedly omnipotent. It’s good to see he couldn’t make a perfect pony.” “Dad.” Cheerilee’s tone was a mix of pleading and warning. “I mean, cheers for Celestia. If that’s his best… I mean, you’re doing a wonderful thing giving that poor thing a home, but could you picture me passing the family business down to her? What’ll she do, water it in chocolate milk?” Several things shattered. Every table inside the restaurant turned to the sound. Screwball was standing several feet away from her family with her mouth hanging open. Upon her head had balanced a large waiter’s plate with their meals, drinks, complementary second vase of daffodil appetizers, and an ice sculpture she had whipped up of the five of them dancing. The cracked sculpture rested on its side, caked with tomato sauce. The four representations of adults had just enough mass to absorb the shock. Screwball wasn’t so lucky. She had broken completely. As Screwball turned and galloped away, Cheerilee rushed out of her seat, only to slip in the large pile of pasta. She pulled herself to the door in time to see Screwball run into a large crowd of marketplace ponies. “Wait!” There was no way Cheerilee could have caught up to her daughter in the crowd. It was chaotic, jumbled, and definitely Screwball's element. The crying teen ducked underneath a tall and lanky pony, flipped over a shocked family of three, stepped onto a cart of apples for balance and leapt into a throng of vegetable vendors. Cheerilee felt her chest constrict as the last sight of the green beanie vanished behind a cart. Thorn Seed tapped on his table as he eyed the destruction of dinner. He gestured to it as he addressed a waiter. “Could we get another, please?” Apple Bloom and Snails were laughing loudly as they walked into Sugarcube Corner, and the Cake's smiles and the sound of young ponies greeted them. As Mrs. Cake worked the bakery counter, the tables of teens on the other side of the store buzzed with laughter. A year ago, Mister Cake had been insistent that a place for snackers to sit at would bring in a few extra bits. With the prospect of more easily covering young Pound Cake’s enormous grocery bill, his wife had relented. The youths of Ponyville responded by throwing their bits at the Cakes in droves, leading to the addition of an entire separate counter. A stocky and short unicorn waved at the couple from their usual table. The past few years had stretched out Snails, but Snips had only gained pounds, acne, and what one could only charitably call a beard. “How’s my main mare and stallion!" Snips grinned as he rubbed his hooves together. "Guys, I got a great idea!” Apple Bloom groaned as she slid into the red plush diner seat. “What kinda crazy skit you wanna charge ponies to see now?” Snails scooted in, fully attentive. “Yeah. Talk.” Snips leaned in, one hindleg vibrating in anticipation. “C-check it out. I f-finished repairing the costumes. We can put on another show as s-soon as we want.” Snails nodded. “We are going to bring back the invisible thread trick?” Apple Bloom put her hoof under her chin and smiled. “Y’all don’t actually have magic cutie marks, remember?” Snips threw his hooves around widely as he sputtered. “Doesn’t matter!” He knocked over his root beer float in excitement. “My boss has gems on her flank and makes dresses. Y-you can think laterally, okay? Not everyone gets something as simple as a h-hammer, you know. Anyway, the partnership works! Snails thinks up the tricks, I make the costumes and props, and now is the time when I knock your socks off, my little farmer girl.” Apple Bloom blushed. “Ah don’t wear socks!” He raised his eyebrows and stared at Snails. “Work faster, my friend.” "Hmm." Snails nodded absentmindedly as he eyed the mess. “Um,” he said calling to the malt counter employee. “Can we have some napkins, please?” The employee in the red-and-white hat and uniform rolled his eyes and threw a wadded mass at the table. “Be more careful next time,” Soda Jerk said to the teens. “I hate that guy," Snips said as he shook his head. Apple Bloom gave him a sympathetic nod, and he sighed. "Look, here’s the idea.” He paused dramatically just a second too long to be cool. “We catch a bullet in our mouths.” Apple Bloom's eyes crossed. Snips’ mostly silent assistant stared at the portly conjurer. Snails tapped his chin absent-mindedly. “Um. You thought of all the problems, right?” Snips nodded. "Oh, no," Apple Bloom declared with a shake of her head. “Y’all ain’t doing this.” Snails chewed his lip. “We’d have to write our names on the bullets first to make it look cool.” "My thoughts exactly," Snips shouted as he bounced on his seat. The color drained from Apple Bloom's face. “Snails, tell me you don’t think you can actually do this. Please?” His marefriend and best friend stared at Snails as he concentrated, staring off into nothing. Snips leaned forward and winked at Apple Bloom. “S-see that? This is where the real m-magic happens.” Snails nodded. “I need some wax and some magnets.” Snails jumped up and down as Apple Bloom gaped. “Y-yes! I knew that you would crack that part!” He suddenly froze as he looked out the window. “Oh Celestia, she’s here. Apple Bloom, you gotta play me up. I’m begging you!” Apple Bloom sighed. “Snips, you intern at her sister’s shop. You can talk to her anytime you wanted about a bunch of stuff you both have in common.” He nearly mounted the table as he leaned in to whisper to Apple Bloom . “I’m p-pleading here. Your my best bud’s girl. Help me!” The front door bells rang. Apple Bloom saw sweat on Snips’ forehead. “Pleading. Pleading, s-s-seriously.” “All right.” “We’d need a pane of glass, too. And we couldn't perform it in temperatures under sixty-seven degrees.” Apple Bloom waved to the front of the shop. “Oh, great,” she whispered out of her pained smile. “Look who she brought.” Diamond Tiara stepped toward the table regally as Sweetie Belle followed. As the two teen Cutie Mark Crusaders shared a hug, Diamond gave Snips a withering glare. “You’re sitting in my seat, Snips.” “Um-m, hey Sweetie Belle. I’m glad to see you. And everypony else, I mean.” Diamond Tiara snorted, but Sweetie Belle returned an innocent smile. “It’s good to see you, Snips. How’re things around the shop?” "You know, he doesn't have to beat around the bush," Apple Bloom whispered as she leaned over to Snails. “He could just ask.” Snails blinked. “I didn’t just ask you.” She giggled. “Okay, the fireworks were a nice touch.” Meanwhile, Snips was doing the most enthusiastic job of puffing his chest out possible with the equipment nature and his eating choices allowed. “Oh, I’ve made myself invaluable. I’m a c-cut above the rest.” As Snips admired Sweetie Belle’s musical laugh, Diamond scooted in next to him. “Be a dear and move to the other side, please?” She grinned with more teeth than politeness would call for. “W-why?” Diamond cocked her head. “Because I’m not sitting next to you until you get stronger deodorant.” Apple Bloom sneered. Snails narrowed his eyes only slightly. Sweetie Belle nervously laughed in a tone Snips wished he could bottle. “Come on, Diamond. Play nice.” Diamond shook her head. “Sweetie, if I am going to slum around with your old friends, it’ll be on my terms.” “Y-you’re gonna regret this,” Snips said as he quaked. The young socialite laughed into her hoof. “I’m terrified of offending a colt that makes dresses.” Snips stuttered, spitting wildly. He stopped himself by grinding his teeth. “Ye-ye-yeah. I make costumes. Get on my good side.” "Oh, dear." She her hoof hovered over her mouth as she tittered dismissively. “Why?” “Be-be-cause you’re going to need some friction-free outfits later when you swing around a pole for a living!” Diamond Tiara paused as the table drew a sharp intake of breath. She inclined her head to Sweetie Belle. “I told you this was a bad idea. I’m leaving. You should, too.” Sweetie Belle looked imploringly at her other friends as Diamond walked away. “Snips, did you have to do that?” “U-um.” He scratched his stubble. “I c-could’ve offered to make her a muzzle.” Sweetie stood and turned to the door, catching sight of a stunned Diamond Tiara. The young pale magenta mare stood still, her violet and white hair spilling around her shoulders as she stared into the spinning eyes of a young pale magenta mare with violet and white hair spilling around her shoulders. Everyone in the building suddenly looked towards the two identically-colored teens. Apple Bloom stared from one to the other. “Golly! You ever dream of two Diamond Tiaras? “ Snips giggled. “Nothing you’d want to hear about.” Screwball sniffed as she looked into Diamond’s eyes. Her spiral pupils had red lines in-between the curves. “Me… not need a bathroom.” Diamond Tiara stared in frozen fascination for several silent seconds. “You’re wearing a beanie. Take care of that,” was the only statement her mind could produce. Partially satisfied with herself, she nodded and pushed past her crying near-copy. Sweetie Belle finally gained control of her body and galloped after Diamond, giving Screwball a confused but sympathetic look. Apple Bloom and the colts watched as Screwball slowly walked past them towards the marked restroom door. She turned back as she felt their gazes burn holes in her coat. “Keep staring, please.” They were quiet as she pushed herself through the doors. No one at the table knew how to respond. Snails turned to his friends with a contemplative look. “Interesting times, huh?” Inside the bathroom, Screwball leaned over the counter and cried into the sink, tiny corkscrews of water splashing as they hit the basin. A voice suddenly drew her attention upwards. “Help me, Screwy.” Screwball looked up, staring into the eyes of the white pegasus on the other side of the mirror. “Help me. He’s come for the children.”