The Inevitable Rise and Liberation of Scootadad!

by Adorned ungulate

Chapter 8: Everypony Has a Weird Day

Dirty brown rivulets of chocolate milk still stained the glass dome above me though the pink clouds had drifted away hours ago. It was when the shower of multicolor rose petals started that I finally lost patience. It was as if whatever phenomenon or entity responsible was making a victory lap across Celestia's capital.

I pushed my way through the aisles past Catchword and Keystone who were still looking dumbly at the sky seeking the one pony who could set me loose. I caught her as she was about to exit. "Madame Scrivener!"

She turned to address me. She looked both cross and weary. "I'm afraid the princess requires an audience immediately I don't have time."

"Madam, I request an emergency leave of absence!" She wasn't my supervisor or even affiliated with the library but as Master of the Scriptorium her word was law.

"Captain Armor has called for a lockdown. I'm afraid I-"

"Quill, my daughter lives in Ponyville..." She paused and considered this for a moment before taking her ever-present writing table off her back and quill from her hair.

"This note should get you past the guard. Good luck. Now I must go."

"I understand, bless you." I snatched the note with my mouth and flew to the nearest balcony doorway.

I flew home as quickly as I could trying to ignore how strange and unsettling everything looked, the checkerboard lawns and floating buildings. I checked out apartment first and found the dogs shampooing the carpet. They gave me a dirty look as if admonishing me for leaving hoofprints. I found the schoolhouse abandoned but a strange noise led me to the playground. Miss Cheerilee was on one of the swings lazily making confetti. I removed a piece that blew into my muzzle and found it consisted of student's homework and term papers. "Cheerilee! Where are the children? Where's my daughter?"

She glanced placidly back at me. She didn't quite look drunk, just not herself and she had a completely blasé smile. "Oh I don't know, Martin. They got their own little lives to lead. I think they wandered off..." She looked about. How could her student's absence just occur to her now?

I grit my teeth and took to the air. Behind me Cheerilee shouted "Whee!" And launched more paper into the air.

Where else could she be? The clubhouse! I made haste to Sweet Apple Acres singlemindedly ignoring all else. When the treehouse came in to view I began to hear... singing? It was like some military march. I tried the door handle but it was locked or barricaded or something.

There was a squeak from inside. "It's a paint flank spy! I'll protect you, princess Scootaloo. Get out of here, you lousy paint flank! The Crusade rules this town now!"

"Sweetie, let me in! It's Scootaloo's dad!"

I left the door and hovered outside a window. Sure enough there was Sweetie Belle wearing her crusader cape and a newspaper admiral hat. Their map of Ponyville spread over the floor had lines of toys spread over it. Sweetie trotted happily over to a sleeping bag in the corner, it had a shivering pale orange flank and muted fuchsia tail sticking out of it. "It's okay, princess. I scared him off."

"Scootaloo! I'm here!"

Sweetie spun, a murderous look across her face, green sparks of magic erupting from her horn. "I said! Get! Out! Paint! Flank!" And drew the drapes on me.

I sank to the ground and was about to buck the door down when a voice went right through me like I was hearing it with my mind as well as my ears.

"And what do you think you're doing?"

I looked about me. "I'm getting my daughter out of here!"

"YOUR daughter? She is her own pony last I checked and I won't have you messing with my glorious anarchy."

And there it was. Wrapped around the tree like a serpent was some thing. It's donkey/goat head lashed towards me.

"What did you do to her?!" I couldn't help but back up a few paces. This was unlike Nightmare Moon's presence, completely disorientating.

"Done to her? I have Liberated her! Do you know what a strain that needless bravado was causing the poor creature? Now she is free to feel as small, helpless, and flightless as she truly is." The thing snickered. "And You. You disgust me. Always helping everypony out. Stretching yourself to nearly breaking point, not letting them solve their own problems; how unspeakably selfish of you. Are you worried about being left all alone if nopony is dependent on you? Are you so scared of being forgotten?"

"I've got to get to my daughter, Scootaloo!"

"That's enough out of you, happy prince. Your reign ends now. Time for you to have some fun!" He placed a claw upon my forehead.

Color drained out of my world. I kind of lost myself for a while.

With a flash of color I came to and realized I was embracing somepony, our lips locked in a kiss. I opened my eyes and saw another pair, startled and light blue, looking back at me. My companion shoved me away. "I'm so sorry, miss! I don't know..."

"Whatever, I-I don't even know how to begin." She wiped her lips. "I'm gonna go find Lyra. You... You might want to clean yourself up."

I stared dumbly for a beat then look down to find all four of my hooves covered in a different color of pastel paint. That explains all the streaks around the mares' shoulders and barrel. Wait a second... "Scootaloo!"

I flew back to the clubhouse. Somehow I had wandered across town but I didn't have time to think about what I had been up to or the fact that I might never buy candy in this town again. There she was, walking around Sweet Apple Acres with a startled looking Sweetie Belle. I swept her up in my arms. "Honey bunch, are you okay?"

"Daad, of course I... You're getting paint all over me!"

"You don't have to be brave for me, Scoots. I love you just as you are."

"What gives?" She frowned for a second and then returned my embrace, accepting the fact that love was unconditional and she was doomed to also be covered in paint.

Author's Note:

"My daugher lives in Ponyville" must be the MLP equivalent of "My daughter attends Sunnyvale High", instantly gets you off work.

Dunno who to dedicate this one too. How about the Teachers of America. Keep circulating those tapes.