Getting Spades Home

by BronyDan

Chapter 8

“If we get caught, I’m blaming you.” Chowder hissed to Featherweight. It was now 10:30, Dinky had gone back to her house to prepare her spare bedroom for Spades, and Featherweight, Chowder, Pipsqueak and Spike were sneaking around the back of Sugarcube Corner to borrow Mr Cake’s cart again.

“I don’t really know what came over me.” said Featherweight, as he swayed on the spot. He was still feeling the effects of his drink.

“It was probably that last pint of Cartlings.” whispered Pipsqueak as they slowly crept up to the cart.

Suddenly, they saw a light flick on in the kitchen. They quickly jumped behind the dustbins, as they say a shadow moving behind the curtains. Then they heard the click of a lock as the door was pushed opened. “Hello?” Pound Cake called as quietly as he could, so is not to wake up his parents. He could see movements from behind the shaking dustbins. “Come out, now.” he said shakily. Slowly, the three colts and the drake moved into light. “No.” said Pound Cake, sternly, “You are not borrowing my dad’s cart again!”

“Well, we need to now,” said Chowder, “seeing as somepony drunkenly promised Dinky Hooves we get Spades back to her house tonight.”

“We are so sorry, Pound,” said Featherweight, “but we really need to take it. If it wasn’t serious, we wouldn’t be asking.”

“You are really digging yourselves in deeper trouble you know that?” said Pound Cake.

“Look, this getting ridiculous.” Spike growled, and he lifted the cart by the harness, “We’ll bring the cart back as soon as we’re done Pound Cake. I just want to get to bed before Twilight realises I’m gone.”

“Wait!” groaned Pound Cake as the three colts climbed into the cart, and he dashed back inside. Five minutes later, he was back out with a jacket over his pyjamas. “I’m coming.” he said as he climbed in as well.

“You can’t!” said Pipsqueak, “You’ll get in trouble as well.”

“I’m not letting this cart out of my sight.” said Pound Cake, “And besides, I’ll be in trouble anyway if you’re caught.” Pipsqueak looked at Chowder, and Chowder to Featherweight. There was no way of winning this battle, and plus he was right. Featherweight gave Spike the go-ahead, and he slowly pulled the cart out into the quiet street.

Outside Spades’ house, Spike lowered the cart quietly, so that Pipsqueak, Featherweight, Chowder and Pound Cake could climb out. There was a light still on in Cillit’s bedroom, as they moved towards the gate. “Be careful, the gate…” whispered Featherweight, but Spike had already pushed it open, causing it to squeak. They all flinched, but luckily, nopony heard them. They crept around the side of the house, into the garden and headed for the shed where Spades was resting.

Spike was too tall to fit into the shed, so he opted to stand outside and keep watch. When Pipsqueak, Featherweight, Chowder and Pound Cake were all inside with the coffin, Featherweight began pulling Chowder’s jacket off of him, “We need your jacket for a curtain.” he said as Chowder tried to pull it back on.

“Why use mine?” he protested.

“Because it looks like an old curtain,” Featherweight hissed as he finally pulled it off Chowder, “now try to hang it over the window.” Chowder groaned as he spread his jacket over the shed window, as Pipsqueak was pulling out a box of matches. He lit the first match, the small flame, flickered and lit up the shed, and Spades’ still grinning face. Pound Cake gave a sudden scream, causing Pipsqueak to gasp and blow the match out. “What’s the matter with you?” Featherweight asked.

“It’s Spades!” cried Pound Cake, pointing at the coffin, “He’s laughing at us.”

“He’s been like that for days now, pull yourself together.” said Chowder.

Pipsqueak had got out another match and lit it, “Listen, this is positively the last time I’m taking him down to Dinky Hooves’.”

Featherweight nodded to Chowder as they placed their front hooves under the coffin and started to lift it, “Where are you going with that?” asked Pound Cake.

“You know where we’re going with it!” Featherweight hissed in irritation.

“Not the coffin.” said Pound Cake, “You’re not going to get that onto my Dad’s cart. It’s not a furniture cart.”

The three colts glared at Pound Cake as they lowered the coffin back down. Chowder took his jacket off from the window, and Featherweight told him to take hold of Spades’ hindlegs while Pipsqueak would pick him up by his shoulders. As Pipsqueak put his hooves under his shoulder blades, he made a disgusted noise and recoiled slightly. “He feels… different.” he told Featherweight, when he asked what was wrong in a rather annoyed tone.

Spike went ahead, as Chowder and Pound Cake balanced Spades’ hindlegs on their backs, and Featherweight and Pipsqueak walked back to back sideways, with Spades’ top half splayed over their backs; Pipsqueak shivered slightly at the feeling of Spades’ hoof brushing the back of his neck. Spike opened the gate and keeping himself low to the ground, he poked his head around the corner to make sure nopony was there. When he checked the coast was clear, he stood to his normal height, and ushered the others to come through as well. They made their way to the cart and Featherweight, Pipsqueak and Chowder lifted Spades into the cart and rolled him under the workbench they had stuck him under the night he died. “I’m never doing that again!” Pound Cake gasped to Spike, clutching his beating heart.

“Don’t say that.” said Pipsqueak when they finished with Spades, “We need to bring him back home tomorrow night for his funeral.”

“Oh sweet Celestia!” Spike muttered under his breath.

“Now the question we’ve got now is, what are we going to do with that empty coffin?” Featherweight asked the group as they huddled around the cart, “We need some sort of dummy to cover up for Spades until tomorrow night.”

Pipsqueak’s eyes lit up under the glow of the lamppost, “Carousel Boutique!” he whispered excitedly, “We can borrow one of the shop window mannequins.”

“Do you really think Rarity will let you have one, at this time of night?” asked Spike, sceptically.

“She won’t,” said Chowder, grinning sneakily, “but Sweetie Belle will, when she finds out what we know about her.”

“Now wait, there is still a flaw with this plan.” said Spike, “We can’t just leave an empty coffin. What if Cillit wants to take a look before she goes to bed?”

“He’s right.” said Pound Cake, “There’s got to be something in that coffin until the dummy comes.” both he and Spike smiled wickedly at the three colts, “And there’s only one option; it’s got to be one of you three, I’m too small.”

“And I can’t, for obvious reason.” chuckled Spike. “Plus, I’m driving.”

Featherweight, Chowder and Pipsqueak looked worriedly at each other, as Pound Cake and Spike went into the cart. They kept their backs turned as they heard a knife coming down on a chop board, and soon, Spike came forward, with three drinking straws clutched in his claw. He held them out in front of the trio, “We’ve cut one of these straws shorter than the other two, so whoever gets the short straw stays in the coffin.”

Featherweight, Chowder and Pipsqueak gulped as they walked forward, their hooves out stretched to grab a straw each.

Comments

[DreadedCandiru2]

The ironic thing is that at some point, I expect to see the Mane Six drink tea in unison while commenting on how stallions get in the way of busy mares.

[BronyDan]

4429967 Don't worry, this story is based on a story before Howard, Pearl and Marina were introduced.