//------------------------------// // Cheerilee Takes Scootaloo Home // Story: Feeding Problems // by ferret //------------------------------// The Apple family’s farm house was a lively place on account of a filly, a schoolteacher, and a stallion making a ruckus out back behind Apple Bloom’s room. The second filly was nowhere to be seen, having been forcibly hidden in the bushes earlier. The first filly being Apple Bloom was somewhere to be seen, and that somewhere was the arms of Big Macintosh who seemed overjoyed to find that she was alright. And the schoolteacher, a mare known as Cheerilee, was tapping Big Macintosh with her hoof in the side admonishingly, while chiding him in strident tones. Cheerilee put her hoof on the broad side of Big Macintosh and said in a challenging tone, “You are not an impressionable little filly. You are a grown stallion! You should know better than to fall for a scary story like that! You could have genuinely hurt somepony! Instead of a healthy skepticism, you worked yourself all into a lather over something that isn’t true at all!” Big Mac gave Cheerilee a surprised look and mumbled, “Ah don’t follow.” Apple Bloom, who was still dangling from her brother’s arms wrapped around her, said, “Sorry Big Macintosh, but ah was wrong. The fillysprite ain’t real after all...” He didn’t react to that, just set her down where Apple Bloom backed up guiltily while her brother stood towering over her saying, “You lied about that?” “Ah didn’t lie!” Apple Bloom pleaded desperately, “Ah just got a bit... confused is all! Scootaloo wasn’t the fillysprite after all. She was just... something... um...” “There are no fillies being devoured,” Cheerilee spoke up. “There are no parasprites disguising themselves as fillies. Scootaloo is still alive, there is nothing wrong with her, and she is just like the way she’s always been... and there is nothing wrong with that!” “Why’d she attack you then?” Big Macintosh said, looking from Cheerilee to Apple Bloom uncertainly. Apple Bloom blushed harder, shrinking to the ground saying, “Ah may have been yellin’ at her some awful mean things. I didn’t know ah thought... ah was just scared it was real! She only went after me ‘cause I was callin’ her the Fillysprite, and ah was wrong!” “Y’serious?” Big Mac asked in an astonished tone. Apple Bloom nodded and he knitted his brows, adding hotly, “You realize how much trouble you caused?” “Before we start throwing around blame again,” Cheerilee interrupted before Apple Bloom could look too crushed, “I would like to remind you who started this story about a filly parasprite.” “Pinkie Pie,” Big Macintosh recalled with a note of disgust. “Ah shouldn’t have believed her though,” Apple Bloom said in admonishment of herself. “Ah shouldn’t have believed her,” Big Macintosh said before the filly could continue. He looked down at Apple Bloom this time in sorrow saying, “Can’t believe she’d do that. Can’t believe she’d use a little filly to get at us...” “There is something seriously wrong with Pinkie Pie,” Cheerilee said levelly. “Something far worse than any of us ever suspected. I don’t know what’s wrong with her, but her lies are putting fillies’ lives in danger.” “We gotta stop her!” piped up Apple Bloom enthusiastically. “We certainly will,” Cheerilee said soothingly to Apple Bloom, adding, “We’ll notify the authorities right away, and tomorrow I can put the school on Pink alert. We won’t be losing any fillies or colts to that mare’s craziness.” She paused glancing at the bushes, then stared into space putting a hoof on her chin, thinking aloud, “For that matter I wonder why Rainbow Dash never warned me there was a Pink alert when she dropped you off this morning.” Apple Bloom and Big Macintosh weren’t going to be able to solve her mysteries for her, so Cheerilee continued presently saying, “I’m just glad you didn’t do anything rash, Big Macintosh. You are a true gentlecolt.” She smiled at him and said, “I forgive you for being upset about Scootaloo. Any pony could have been fooled by what happened. You’re a good brother for caring about your sister so much—and trusting her, even if she doesn’t always get it right.” Cheerilee hesitated before continuing, glancing at the bushes again. No sign of Scootaloo showing. Cheerilee swore that Scootaloo had better be alright, or she’d have to strangle the author of this story. “Now, can I trust you, Big Macintosh?” she asked the stallion warningly, “You truly won’t do anything rash that might hurt a filly, even if she’s not exactly the same as other fillies? You’ll at least hear her out, right?” Big Macintosh looked at Cheerilee unreadably, then said, “Eyup, let’s go.” He started to run off then, and Cheerilee was like, “Wait! Where are you going?” “The library?” Big Mac said, pausing and looking over his shoulder. But why would he go to the library to see Scootaloo? Oh wait... “Oh, Big Macintosh,” Cheerilee laughed mirthfully, “Scootaloo isn’t at the library. She came here while Apple Bloom was all alone at the farm, trying to find her.” Big Macintosh shivered once before he turned around, but didn’t indicate why. “That so?” he said in a light jovial tone, walking back to Cheerilee and Apple Bloom. He stood really close to Apple Bloom and asked, “She still here?” Cheerilee paused feeling very uncertain about this for some reason. But he did say... eyup. That meant something, right? He promised he would hear her out. “You... can come out now, Scootaloo,” Cheerilee called out, watching Big Macintosh uneasily. “Big Macintosh wants to apologize to you,” she emphasized, “For his behavior.” At first Cheerilee was starting to think that Scootaloo had gotten hurt somehow, but the filly slowly crept out of the foliage, approaching the three of them, hunched down and wingspread. “Sorry little filly,” Big Macintosh said to her in the gentlest voice. “Ah was gettin’ all worked up over nothin’.” “You’re really sorry?” Scootaloo said with a leery sideways glance. “You’re not just pretending?” “Ah wouldn’t do that,” Big Macintosh said offended. “Ah think you’re alright.” “You’re not gonna hurt me?” Scootaloo asked warily. “Nope,” Big Macintosh answered. “You’re not mad at me? You’re not gonna yell at me?” “Nope.” Scootaloo was looking up at the greater red pony, while Cheerilee watched the nervous filly anxiously. Scootaloo seemed to come to a decision then, relaxing and turning her head down with a relieved smile saying, “Man, and I thought I was gonna” Quick as a whip Big Macintosh snagged her tail in his hoof and hoisted Scootaloo screaming up into the air. “What is wrong with you?!” Cheerilee screamed as he totally ignored her holding Scootaloo to force her still while peering critically between her legs. “Look at this!” she heard him shout back, but Cheerilee wasn’t facing him anymore because she had to turn around to buck his side as hard as she could. Big Macintosh went sprawling. Scootaloo buzzed out of his grasp to rocket behind Cheerilee hiding underneath her in terror. Apple Bloom was yelling at Big Mac to stop but he roared up and rushed forward, butting Apple Bloom out of the way, and standing between her and Cheerilee. “Thought you could lure me away, did ya?!” he shouted at Cheerilee. “Why would I lure you away?!” she shouted back at him. “So she can devour Apple Bloom!” he said accusingly. “She’s not going to devour anypony!” Cheerilee snapped back. “The fillysprite has you fooled!” Mac declared to Cheerilee. “She’s not the fillysprite!” Cheerilee responded shrilly. “That ain’t a filly!” Big Macintosh declared, “That’s the third sign! The wings, the tail and the creepy jeepers!” “What the hay are you talking about?!” Cheerilee uttered desperately trying not to boggle at the sheer senselessness of this stallion before her. “She–” Big Mac stared at Cheerilee furiously, looking down at the trembling Scootaloo, then back to Cheerilee. “She–” he just couldn’t get the words out he looked so betrayed and frustrated. At last he just bellowed out “She ain’t got a cooter!!” Cheerilee shouted “She–” but now she was the one flummoxed. “Is... that true, Scootaloo?” she asked looking at the filly clinging to her front hooves. “What the buck is a cooter?” Scootaloo moaned. Cheerilee blushed horribly. Oh no. “Big Macintosh!” she shouted forward, hardly seeing him through the blush on her face, “Language!” Surprisingly the angry stallion pulled up short with an embarassed, “Whoops.” Cheerilee squinted at him dangerously. “...my bad,” he said crossing a hoof. Cheerilee sighed exasperatedly, and turned down to Scootaloo saying, “We’re talking about the special place in between your legs, but you should never use that word or there will be big trouble.” “I swear there’s nothing weird between my legs,” Scootaloo said sourly, “Why does everypony keep saying there is?!” Cheerilee smiled desperately, saying, “So, you don’t have a...?” “A...?” Scootaloo prompted looking up at her crossly. “You don’t have... anything?” Cheerilee squeaked out. “I have a... thigh?” Scootaloo said, lifting one of her legs which Cheerilee couldn’t see from that defensible position of the filly’s. There was no diplomatic way to do this. Cheerilee sighed long and hard and said, “Scootaloo, I’m going to have to ask you to... raise your tail for me.” “Nuh!” Scootaloo protested, dropping her bottom to the floor. “I did that for Twilight and she thought it was all weird! And Rainbow Dash did too! It’s embarassing. I swear there’s nothing there that’s weird! There’s nothing there at all!” “I... alright, I think I can take your word on that,” Cheerilee said unsteadily. “And Big Macintosh’s,” she added. “And Twilight’s,” she further added. She turned to Big Macintosh saying, “Neither I nor anypony here will debate that some things about Scootaloo are... strange. But there is no fillysprite. Pinkie Pie for whatever reason is bound and determined to get this little filly killed, and when Pinkie learned all about this filly’s ...uniqueness, she used that to craft her story.” Cheerilee felt her resolve firming as the truth started to shine through in her head. “Maybe Scootaloo doesn’t have a... well, you know,” Cheerilee waved a hoof dismissively, “But she doesn’t devour fillies. Pinkie Pie just took her lack of... parts, and told you that anypony like that was an evil monster, and you believed her!” “You knew Scootaloo had wings that were not... like other ponies, and yet you allowed Pinkie Pie to convince you that meant she was a killer, without any reason to think so other than that pink pony’s word, by the mere assumption that Pinkie Pie could never do anything so heinous as to craft such a lie!” Cheerilee was stomping mad now, jeering, “Oh hey, let’s learn about the legend of the ...evil thing. It wrecks your house and makes your hooves fall off! You can tell because it has an orange mane. So any time you see an orange mane, you better just assume that it’s the evil creature, and it’s going to make your hooves fall off! It’s not like I just made that up off the top of my head!!” Her sides heaving, Cheerilee stared savagely at Big Macintosh who, wasn’t exactly cowering like a foal but you could see the fear in his eyes. ...at least he wasn’t acting afraid of Scootaloo anymore. Cheerilee tried to calm down and even out her breathing. Apple Bloom was the one who spoke up though. “Scootaloo ain’t gonna eat me Big Mac,” her flutey voice broke the silence. “She’s mah friend! Plus she had plenty of chances to eat me, and she didn’t. So she ain’t gonna!” “Sorry, ah–” Big Macintosh gulped out, but Cheerilee snapped at him. “No. You know what? I’m done. This has gone far too long.” Cheerilee grabbed Scootaloo’s mane in her mouth, depositing the filly unceremoniously on her back. “I missed an entire day of school for this, and if you haven’t noticed it’s starting to get late in the afternoon. You can protect Apple Bloom all you want, but I want you to think about what I have said. These fillies do not need to see us fighting like this, and Scootaloo needs to go home, where she can be safe.” Scootaloo stiffened on Cheerilee’s back, and Cheerilee turned to her uncertainly saying, “You’re uh... you’re staying with Miss Twilight, correct?” Scootaloo had an odd look in her eyes when she said distantly, “Yeah... I... I guess I am. I mean I don’t have anywhere else to go.” “Excellent!” Cheerilee said brightly, “Let’s get going then, before some ponies decide they’re going to be irrational again!” She started to clip off, Big Macintosh saying, “But–” But Cheerilee just shouted back at him, “I am not in the mood to argue! You can talk with me later, after we have both calmed down.” “But–” he repeated. “Later!” she repeated until she had finally gotten out of earshot of that infuriating stallion. Big Macintosh watched her go and sighed, dipping his head to cup Apple Bloom neck under his. “Ah hope she’ll be alright,” he rumbled softly. “Why wouldn’t she be?” Apple Bloom asked, butting kindly up against him from underneath. Wincing as the pain in her eye throbbed. Scootaloo decided to walk on her own relatively quickly. Cheerilee didn’t mind, as long as Scootaloo stayed close to her. The Apple Acres diminished behind them as Cheerilee clopped and Scootaloo clipclopped along, travelling south past the schoolhouse way up on the hill, now empty of students for the day. They continued down to Ponyville proper, with the quaint straw roofed hamlets, their windows starting to glow as the shadows lengthened in the late afternoon sun. There was a cool breeze blowing that ruffled her fur chillily, but the air was crystal clear. “Cheerilee, wait!” Scootaloo said suddenly, stopping just at the edge of town, before the open countryside turned into village squares, roads and alleyways. “Did you forget something?” Cheerilee asked Scootaloo curiously. “No I just...” Scootaloo looked down embarassedly saying, “I don’t think this is such a good idea.” “Why not?” Cheerilee asked, crouching down to the filly’s level. “What’s wrong?” Scootaloo scraped her hoof, saying “Nothing’s wrong! It’s just... I’m... scared to go into town. What if ponies come after me?” “The only pony after you right now is Pinkie Pie,” Cheerilee assured Scootaloo, “And Twilight Sparkle herself is there to rein that filly in. Besides, I could totally take her on.” She flexed a forehoof jokingly. “Well, alright,” Scootaloo said, starting to move, but she jerked to a stop again with a frightened expression, saying, “But what if it’s not? What if something happened to Twilight?” in a tense voice. “It doesn’t... something just doesn’t feel right about this!” “Scootaloo, you are one of the bravest fillies I know,” Cheerilee assured her. “There’s nothing wrong with being scared, but you can’t let your fears control you! Ponyville isn’t any more dangerous than it was yesterday, or the day before, and you did fine then! Come on, let’s face forward, and take this thing head on. We’ll be at the library before you know it, and I bet Twilight knows where to find some marshmallows and hot cocoa!” Scootaloo almost visibly brightened at that, giving Cheerilee a grateful smile. “You’re the best teacher ever, did you know?” she said adoringly. Cheerilee just rolled her eyes and said, “Come along,” walking sedately into town. Scootaloo followed afterwards, and sure enough as they got further into town, nothing attacked them, and there were no ponies around to even give them a hard time. If Cheerilee had looked back she would have seen Scootaloo turning over her shoulder uneasily at the long shadows, a skittishness otherwise unheard of for the bold filly, who must have been frightened terribly by the distressing events of today. No, in fact it wasn’t until they got all the way past Sugarcube Square that something attacked them and there were a lot of ponies around to give them a hard time. “What?” Cheerilee said stopping short. “What’s this?!” What looked like one pony rounded the building in front of her, a dozen or more ponies of all colors shapes and sizes, and all with grim looks on their faces. Grim looks that flashed to shocked recognition as soon as they laid eyes on Scootaloo. “There she is!” a mare cried out at the front. “It’s the fillysprite!” the stallion next to her said tremblingly, waving his torch before him warily. Did they... they did. Many of the ponies had torches, and... seriously? Pitchforks? Cheeriously? “Get her!” shouted another stallion angrily within the crowd. They started to surge forward and Cheerilee stepped in the way shouting desperately, “She’s not the fillysprite! It’s just a story! It’s not real!” “She’s been possessed!” a familiar sounding mare with a golden mane cried out in the mess of ponies looking at Cheerilee in horror. “Hexed!” cried another sympathetically. “Enchanted!” cried a third. Oh no. “Now let’s not do anything rash,” Cheerilee said uneasily, slowly backing up as the crowd approached. “There’s a very good explanation for—” Then Cheerilee flung her hoof out, pointing behind the crowd wide eyed, and screamed, “Oh no, it’s the Fillysprite!!” Everypony looked over their shoulder. She scruffed Scootaloo, and charged off toward the edge of town. Scootaloo buzzed her wings to pull loose from Cheerilee’s grasp but easily kept up with the earth pony, shouting, “Where do we go?!” “School house!” Cheerilee shouted frantically, galloping across the bridge not even thinking to look back at how close the ponies were behind her. Cheerilee didn’t like to brag that she was the fastest pony in Ponyville because well, she wasn’t. She always got participant place in the Running of the Leaves, which is to say further ahead than average but not exemplary. She didn’t even want to contemplate what would happen if any of the faster ponies managed to catch her though, and that gave her an adrenalin fueled burst of speed. The Ponyville schoolhouse was always a pleasant place to learn and grow. The house itself was a cherry red, with clear glass paneled windows to let the sun shine through. There was a play yard next to it that, during school hours, was covered with rambunctious foals awaiting their turn in class, with jump ropes, hurdles and a tether ball. Nothing too fancy, but Ponyville wasn’t known for being fancy. Nestled in the embrace of trees, from the forest north of the Apple family’s west orchard, the property was atop a hill overlooking the town of Ponyville with many straw rooftops receding into the distance down below, and beyond them the endless valley that led to the broad jutting mountains, atop which Canterlot rested gleaming gold and pearl in the afternoon sun. It was up that hill that a hotly pursued mare and a very odd filly were running for their lives, with but one goal in mind: defenses. Without even slowing, Cheerilee slammed through the door into the schoolhouse shouting, “Windows! Get the windows!” Scootaloo sped off past her, locking them one after the other. Cheerilee kicked the door closed, then hurled a few desks to brace against the doorknob, and then her own desk for good measure. “Attic!” she belted out, climbing the ladder to the trap door leading to the maintenance access, and making sure the door bolt on it was solidly locked shut. Cheerilee then sank down the ladder, and sank to the ground, in some measure of relief, letting out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. She then shot her head up at a polite knocking at the door. Cheerilee rushed to the hasty barricade, checking its stability before saying uncertainly, “Who is it?” “Um, could you please come out Miss Cheerilee?” a young mare’s voice came muffled through the door. “That’s not what you tell her!” whispered another one. “Come on out,” a third mare said, “Or we are going to have to get difficult!” “I’m not letting you have Scootaloo!” Cheerilee said loudly enough to be heard across the door. “You’re not yourself, Miss Cheerilee!” a former student by the name of Sea Swirl announced from behind the door, but unfortunately she was not famous enough for anypony to acknowledge. “We just have to take care of the monster!” an irate mare called out beyond the barrier. “You harm one hair on that filly and I’ll make you sorry!” Cheerilee shouted back. There was a strong kick at the door, but it held closed firmly. “Somepony check the windows!” another one said, and sounds of the group spreading out could be heard. “You’re being fooled!” Cheerilee shouted, “Just leave us alone!” but nopony answered her. It seemed negotiations were over. Cheerilee backed to the center of the room, almost jumping out of her skin when Scootaloo too backed right up against her. “Did you secure the perimeter?” Cheerilee asked Scootaloo curtly. “Yes ma’m,” Scootaloo said, “All windows are locked and loaded.” “We need to increase our OpSec,” Cheerilee worried, starting to pull the tops off of some of the desks in the room. “There should be a hammer in my desk.” Cheerilee looked over at her desk and winced. Oh right. The huge solid oak thing was toppled over heedlessly against the door. Its drawers were spilled out all over onto the floor. “Or somewhere around there,” she clarified. The sound of enthusiastic hammering filled the schoolhouse as somehow the two of them managed to keep one step ahead of any ponies who thought it a bright idea to jimmy the window latches from outside. Especially those darned cheating unicorns. Some time later, Scootaloo stuck her head up, having placed a bucket on top of it as a makeshift helmet. “Barricades in position!” Scootaloo announced saluting and pointing a hoof at the boards that were haphazardly nailed across the windows. They rattled, but held for now. Outside you could hear ponies, trying to get in chanting, “Fillysprite, fillysprite, fillysprite!” “Good job, private!” Cheerilee said patting the bucket on Scootaloo’s head. Cheerilee adjusted her own head bucket so it stopped obscuring her eyes, but it kept falling back to shade them no matter what she did. “That should keep the enemy forces at bay,” she assured the filly. “But how long can we hold out?” Scootaloo asked skittishly. Cheerilee gave a dour frown, pacing before the filly before champing out, “Let’s just hope we’re not in this for the long haul.” Ten minutes later, Cheerilee was huddled against the desk barrier to the door, with a little notebook in hoof. Her chalk stained cheeks were shadowed as she wiggled her pencil around in her mouth to write. Omnipresent sounds of banging and rattling in the distance filled the air. “Supply lines have been cut off,” the schoolteacher wrote, “Not sure I can make it. The enemy grows bolder every minute. At DSK they tried storming the attic. Sliding bolt held, for now. Hear noises in the darkness. The enemy may be digging a tunnel.” “What are you writing, Miss Cheerilee?” Cheerilee looked up to see Scootaloo standing there, with chalk smudged across her own cheeks, and her bucket helmet resting slightly askew on her bouncy mane. The filly had a chalkboard pointer slung over her shoulder as a makeshift bludgeon and/or unicorn poker. “You know, I’m... not entirely sure,” Cheerilee answered the filly, looking at her own notes quizzically. “But what else can I do?” she said in a fearful tone, “We’re in more trouble than when Daring Do fought the Equalists!” “You read that one?” Scootaloo asked amazed. “I read all of them!” Cheerilee said with a quick laugh. “She’s so heroic and adventuresome!” the schoolteacher said, happily able to ignore her own title with just a thought of the far more glamorous and exciting adventurer. “So does Rainbow Dash!” Scootaloo exclaimed excitedly. “She’s just like Daring Do too, except more normal colored!” “Rainbow Dash’s colors may be normal,” Cheerilee said encouragingly to Scootaloo, “But she has a lot more than any other pony. I’d say nothing about Rainbow Dash is normal!” “She’s only got one fur color though,” Scootaloo insisted. “That’s pretty normal.” “Who cares how normal she is?” Cheerilee said crossing her hooves stubbornly, “It’s what makes her weird that everypony likes! Like that rainbow circle thing she can do, the Rainbow Boom or something.” “Sonic Rainboom,” Scootaloo whispered back. “No other pony can do that,” Cheerilee said considerately. “It’s pretty weird, but it’s also pretty—I don’t know, super!” “Awesome!” Scootaloo cheered. “Thank you,” Cheerilee said with a smile. “No, the proper term is awesome,” Scootaloo clarified. “It has to have less sass before it qualifies as super.” “I see...” Cheerilee murmured uncomprehendingly. Something heavy banged against the door. Cheerilee rushed over and leaned on the desks, holding them in place as whatever makeshift battering ram the ponies were using battered at her makeshift defenses. “We’ve got to get out of here...” Scootaloo whimpered worriedly. “Where would we go?” Cheerilee said unhappily. “They’d catch us before we took two steps towards the library!” “I hate being stuck here!” Scootaloo said stomping in frustration. “There’s nothing we can do,” Cheerilee said morosely sitting with her back against the barrier, scuffling her hooves to keep it stayed. “We’ll just have to wait here until Twilight comes to rescue us.” “I hope she comes soon,” Scootaloo said in a miserable tone, curling down and hugging her legs to herself. Cheerilee’s heart went out to the filly. A little filly shouldn’t have to face something like this. She should be at home with a warm meal in her belly all wrapped up in a cuddly blanket. Well... at least Scootaloo wouldn’t have to face it alone. Cheerilee reached her hooves over and pulled Scootaloo into a warm hug. Cheerilee didn’t know how much longer she had before her ertsaz barrier would fall apart. The relentless battering was getting more and more persistent. “Me too, filly,” Cheerilee whispered, “Me too.” Outside there was a crashing sound as ponies started to cry out in alarm. Flashes of light came from the cracks between the boards in the window. Some sort of pitched battle going on out there. Had Twilight finally arrived? There was a hearty whinny as the force against the door increased markably. The next crash on the door finally burst it open, Cheerilee and Scootaloo crying out in alarm as desks went flying left and right. Ready to face their fate they regarded the glowing smoke enshrouded doorway, and instead of their doom, they saw the only pony who could bring them to salvation. “Big Macintosh?!” Scootaloo and Cheerilee exclaimed at once. “C’mon,” he said calmly, despite the cut underneath his eye from a stray hoof. “We’re goin’ to the library.” Big Macintosh and Cheerilee faced off the mob of distraught ponies outside the schoolhouse with Scootaloo sandwiched in between them. The ponies were angry and vengeful, but also frightened and hesitant. They knew what they had to do, but on some level they knew that they shouldn’t do it. Cheerilee carefully leaned down to Scootaloo and whispered, “Get ready to run for the library. We’re going to make a hole.” She straightened up and glared at the ponies strong enough to make them all take a collective step back. “I think it’s time to close the book on these ponies,” she remarked meaningfully to Big Macintosh at her side, bracing herself for the final push. The bulk of the ponies in this mob were off away surrounding the school. Only a small amount were actually at the front blocking their escape. At the commotion in front, the others abandoned their kicking on the windows and perches on the roof but it took them time to come around the school to where the pony they feared was being defended by a school teacher and an apple farmer. Time that those two could use to their advantage. Cheerilee and Big Macintosh charged the line as one. Cheerilee faced left and Big Macintosh faced right. She couldn’t see who he was facing up against, but in her grill were a number of very potentially dangerous ponies. If Blossomforth managed to grapple her it would be the end. Blossomforth was easy to confuse though, her agility betraying her as Cheerilee took a deliberate hit from Ambrosia, the strongly suppressing kick heavily winding the schoolteacher but getting the construction pony hopelessly tangled up in Blossomforth’s mistimed attack. Bon-bon was a heavy brawler ever since she was a filly, and Cheerilee was well familiar with this, but Roseluck on the other hoof was not so much of a fighter, so Cheerilee faced her directly. Putting Rose between her and Bonnie, Cheerilee shoved the former into the latter, further pushing back the line and distracting them with making sure Rose was okay. Caramel was easy enough to intimidate by just staring him down, but Cheerilee was also forced to engage him, in order to use him as a shield before Helia could take her down in a bullet dive. He nearly passed out as the breath blew out of him when Helia bounced right off. Behind him, Berry Punch was a menace on four hooves, not just to Cheerilee but anyone around her, so Cheerilee leaned into her shoulder and threw Caramel into the belligerant pony before Berry could give anypony else a shiner. And then, they broke through. The line was clear! “Go Scootaloo, go!” Cheerilee shouted. The little filly needed no encouragement. Scootaloo avoided the seeking hooves and scooping pitchforks, shooting through the lane in the mob like a library seeking missile. A number of ponies on the fringe of the crowd cried out in alarm and they all started to converge on the fleeing Scootaloo like a giant pincer. “No!” Cheerilee shouted, abandoning her defense of the lane to charge after the ponies who were breaking away. This proved to be a nonfatal error. Cheerilee had barely taken a pace before she came face to hoof with a solid left hook from officer Linky, which sent her reeling dizzily back against the crowd. There was a crash as Big Macintosh went down and Cheerilee kicked back blindly when an unknown pony landed on her back, headbutting the back of her skull. Stars exploded in her vision and Cheerilee couldn’t keep her balance. She went down too and it was all over. The book closed on them, with ponies piling on top of each other to hold the two of them down. “Scootaloo, ru–!” Big Macintosh shouted out before getting the wind kicked out of him. The last thing Cheerilee saw before her vision faded to blackness was the swiftly diminishing and featureless orange rear end of the pony she was trying to save. Cheerilee lost track of herself in unconsciousness for an untold amount of time, but finally struggled awake thanks to a ...splitting headache, making her hiss and press on her temples as soon as she came to awareness. “G’mornin’ Sleepin’ Beauty,” came Big Macintosh’s voice through the darkness of her closed eyes. Cheerilee cracked her eyes open to see the farm pony smiling at her sadly. The mob was gone, as was the schoolhouse and the open air, and, if what was behind Big Macintosh over his shoulder was any indication...! Crawling to her hooves, Cheerilee looked around with dismay at her surroundings. “Oh for Pete’s sake!” Cheerilee cried out from the Ponyville Jail, within a small cell crafted of thick stone, with one wall made of bars, and a small window peeking out to the cool morning sunlight, also barred. Cheerilee winced again, as the force of her words brought to bear her headache, pressing a hoof against her head in pain. Big Mac was bumping something against her nose then, and Cheerilee opened her eyes again to see a tin cup full of water. She bit it gratefully, sipping at it and then gulping it down. “How long was I out?” Cheerilee asked grimly, once Mac took the cup back. “Overnight,” Big Macintosh said, refilling the cup from the spigot in the small sink in the room. “Is Scootaloo alright?” she asked nervously. “Don’t know,” he said glumly. “Did she make it to the library?” “Don’t know.” Cheerilee sighed pressing her sore head against the cool bars of the jail cell. “I just want this to all be a bad dream. Hasn’t anypony come to check on us?” “Eyup,” he said stretching up to look thoughtfully out the window. “Did you ask them what happened to Scootaloo?” Cheerilee prompted. “Nope,” he said guiltily. “Why not?!” Cheerilee exclaimed. “Afraid it’d be bad,” he said nose pointed down at his feet. “Well we’ve got to find out!” Cheerilee said, turning to the hallway beyond their cell shouting out, “GUA–” then clutching her head. “Guard!” she shouted more quietly in a barely raised tone of voice. There was no answer. “Y’alright, miss?” Big Macintosh said, looking Cheerilee over concernedly. “Oh yes, I’m fine. It’s just that it seems like everypony in town saw fit to hit me in the head,” Cheerilee said grumpily. “What I need is an ice pack, a nice quiet dinner and a Sinatra record.” Big Macintosh shrugged and passed her the cup again. Cheerilee sighed but took the cup, sipping at the water again. She peered down at the clear fluid thoughtfully, her face reflecting poorly in its rippling translucent surface. “Right, then,” she decided downing the last of the cup and taking it by the handle in her mouth to the door of the cell. She started sliding the cup back and forth on the bars, her ears flattening back at the unbearable racket that it made. “Alright! Alright! Hold your horses!” someone shouted from beyond the hall, “What the buck is that noise back here?!” A rose colored mare with a yellow mane came stomping into the hallway, an ill fitting police cap near engulfing her head, were it not for her bouncy curls holding it at bay. Cheerilee dropped the cup shouting, “Scootaloo! The filly, is she okay??” She looked pleadingly at the police officer. The policemare blinked at her and answered, “Wow, you really are enchanted. I’m sorry lady, but Scootaloo got devoured by the Fillysprite days ago! You were harboring a lookalike the whole time.” “The Fillysprite isn’t real!” Cheerilee protested hotly with a disgusted sneer. “It’s all a setup by Pinkie Pie to scare you into hurting her! They’re fillies, not parasprites!” “Oh is that so, miss not-enchanted?” the police pony said to her in a disparaging tone, “It just so happens that unlike you, Pinkie Pie has hard evidence to support herself. You know the parasprite song, the one that Pinkie used the last time, that all the parasprites just brainlessly followed, with her whole one man band gig?” “Um... not personally...” Cheerilee said reluctantly. “There was a field trip, you see, but I’m familiar with it. I’m sure Big Macintosh has heard it.” “Eyup,” Big Macintosh said, spinning his hoof regretfully on the jail cell floor. “That’s it!” Cheerilee exclaimed excitedly. “Those fillies aren’t parasprites and I can prove it! Just have Pinkie Pie play that song of hers. These aren’t mindless creatures like parasprites; these are fillies, so they won’t follow her!” Cheerilee smiled triumphantly at the police pony who just looked back at her evenly. “But that’s exactly what happened,” the pony said to Cheerilee. “Several corroborating sources agree that several creatures appearing to be fillies did follow the parasprite song. That’s why Pinkie Pie has been marching around town all day playing it! She rounded them up and they followed her right down to the ‘free river. Because they are parasprites.” Cheerilee laughed in disbelief, “D-don’t be silly, they wouldn’t follow her into the the river. They could just turn around and go the other way any time they wanted. They know Pinkie is trouble. They know better!” The other mare sighed and turned her back saying, “Just get some rest and take it easy for a while. You’ll be let out once the danger of possible enchantment has passed.” She started to walk away, as the light of realization dawned in Cheerilee’s eyes. “I wasn’t the one enchanted,” Cheerilee said quietly. “I wasn’t the one enchanted!” she repeated a bit louder to the retreating policemare, leaning against the bars of her cell and wrapping her hooves around them. “The fillies were enchanted! You have to save them!” Cheerilee called out to the unresponsive mare. The guard’s shoulders hunched, but she didn’t turn around, or slow. “Where is Scootaloo?” Cheerilee yelled at her. “What have you done to Scootaloo?” she screamed, “What have you done?!” The mare broke into a run, leaving the hallway and slamming the door behind her. “What have you done?!” Cheerilee shrieked with pure unadultrated horror into the lonely empty hall. “Oh Celestia, what have you done,” she moaned sinking bonelessly against the bars. She felt the hot sting of tears on her cheeks. Pinkie Pie was a monster! How could a monster like that win? How could she steal a little filly’s life away just like that?! Had Scootaloo fought it? Had Scootaloo been so scared when she couldn’t get away? Had she cried out for help and there was nopony who would hear her? She felt a warmth on the back of her neck. Big Macintosh hugged her gently. He led Cheerilee away from the bars, sitting down next to her against the stone wall. “Scoo–” he said his voice catching. He trembled against her and said in a reassuring voice, “Scootaloo is fine.” Cheerilee leered away, saying, “How can you know that?” She wanted to thank him just for being here, but she was just too worried and desperate for some sort of lifeline to hold onto. She wanted him to be right. She didn’t want the ponies in this town to be that crazy. “Policemare looked away,” he said simply, “When you said Scootaloo wouldn’t follow.” Had the mare done so? Cheerilee couldn’t recall when that guard pony had started walking away. “You’re sure about that?” she asked Big Macintosh, beside herself with worry. “Nope,” he shook his head. “Big Macintosh, you are infuriating!” Cheerilee shouted, standing up and snapping him with her tail as she walked off. Yet Cheerilee couldn’t help but be aware that she wouldn’t have been composed enough to even walk, if he hadn’t been with her just now. But she was too busy being angry at him to thank him. “She was nervous about somethin’” Big Mac said continuing to sit there ignoring Cheerilee’s jab and squinting suspiciously at the hallway. “Plus they ain’t let us go.” Cheerilee sighed saying, “I suppose...” “We did the best we could do,” Big Macintosh assured her. “If she made it to the library, she’ll be safe with Twilight.” Cheerilee shook her head sadly saying, “I just can’t help but think if something happened to her...” “She’s fine,” Big Macintosh reiterated to Cheerilee forcefully, standing up as he did so. “She has to be!” His voice caught again, and he turned his head in shame. Any anger Cheerilee may have yet held, evaporated at that. Cheerilee was starting to understand what Big Macintosh must be going through, with Scootaloo and the fear Pinkie’s tale seemed uniquely able to inspire, and how worried he was for Apple Bloom that he turned into a madstallion about it. And what he must think about himself now. “Scootaloo is fine,” he repeated turning to Cheerilee composedly, a placid look on his blocky muzzle. “We’ll be alright,” he continued, “We did everything we could, just have to wait here for help to arrive. She had every chance to get to the library. She had to make it.” Big Macintosh smiled down at her kindly saying, “So you don’t need to worry Miss Cheerilee.” Cheerilee hated this. She felt like her heart was breaking watching this stallion. She knew what she had to say, but she didn’t want to tell him. She didn’t want to know what it would do to him. It was what she would tell any foal in distress, what he needed to know, but she hated that she had to be the one to tell him. Big Macintosh was trying so hard to be strong for her, and Cheerilee had to say the four words that would break him. She swallowed a lump in her throat. “It’s not your fault,” Cheerilee said faintly. The sounds of crying echoed from the jail cell for a good long time. Big Macintosh had settled down eventually, resting his large head in Cheerilee’s lap, and lap she would explain means the location nestled in-between your forehooves and chest when you sit normally, like a normal pony. And Lyra would just roll her eyes and ignore her. But looking down at the worn out stallion, Cheerilee felt a tender warmth in her heart and, despite the frazzled look the both of them had, a small smile fought its way valiantly onto her snout. This moment was interrupted by the odd sound of struggle from the other room, and the dull smack of something heavy hitting the floor. Big Macintosh raised his head, and he and Cheerilee both craned their ears forward, to see if the guard was coming back again. No guard came into the back of the jail though, and the two ponies both scrambled to their hooves in panicked apprehension when the hallway door opened, and somepony very unexpected wandered in, stopping before the only occupied cell to face within. That is to say, the very cell occupied by Big Macintosh and Cheerilee right now. They both stared out of it in guarded shock, through the silvery bars, until Cheerilee found her voice, shouting, “Pinkie Pie what are you doing here?!” The pony in question regarded them brightly. Her eyes twinkled and her lips spread into a broad smile.