Teamwork iS Awesome

by FestOfAmerican

DELAYED - RAINBOW SNOW

FimFiction.net presents

Written by FestOfAmerican

Based on the characters created by Lauren Faust, and the show “My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic”, owned by Hasbro Incorporated.

================================================================================

Chapter Three: DELAYED – RAINBOW SNOW

================================================================================

9:38 AM PST (T-minus 01:57 hours until departure)
Saturday, January 7th, 2012
Los Angeles International Airport, California, U.S.A.
Pulling away from Terminal 4 Curbside

“Nyah-nyah, pbbbbt!”

From atop of the cast’s collective pile of cargo luggage, Scootaloo pinched her head between her front hooves and blew a raspberry through the rear exit window at the reporters that literally just ate their dust.

“Better luck next time, cowpokes!” Applebloom wiggled her blank flank at them and kicked up more dirt.

“You know they have cameras, right? If they get a silly enough picture of you two, they might be laughing all the way to the bank,” Sweetie Belle warned, crouching her diminutive body out of sight.

“If that’s all they got from me, then it was worth it,” shrugged the Pegasus filly as she returned to her middle seat on the bench next to Sweetie Belle.

“Totally! Ain’t nothing wrong with us kids having a little fun,” the youngest Apple sibling said while taking up the aisle side again, giving a hoof-bump to Scootaloo.

“Heh, I’d like to hear you sound so confident when those photos come back and you’re all grown up. Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?” Spike smugly posed while looking at them from over his backrest.

“That threat cuts both ways, double-0 shrimp,” Scootaloo countered.

“True, but you forget that I’m a dragon. I’ve still got a long childhood ahead of me,” he patted himself on the chest with the CMCs watching.

“He’s got a point there, girls,” Sweetie Belle conceded, her friends rounding on her at once.

“Whose side are you on anyway?!” Applebloom asked, her southern drawl growing rougher with each syllable.

“Spike, stop picking on them,” Twilight admonished him from the topmost edge of her script notebook. “We all may have succeeded in looking foolish to those guys, the way we stormed out of there like maniacs.”

“Indeed! Were we that pressed for time to shun even one photo-shoot? Now this outfit is marred with perspiration, ick,” Rarity pouted and dabbed a hoof at the moist patches to dry them.

“And what’s wrong with a little sweat? A good workout every now and then will keep you fitting into those swanky getups,” Rainbow Dash playfully rubbed a hoof on Rarity’s shoulder, but the advice was poorly received.

“Just what are you implying about my figure?!” she snarled, whipping her head back to face the brazen delinquent.

“Whoa-nothing, nothing! I didn’t mean it like that!” she urged while holding up her hooves to shield herself from that murderous stare.

“Lucky for me, I get to have all the sweets I want and not have to worry about gaining weight!” Pinkie Pie inputted unhelpfully with a lollipop stick protruding from the corner of her mouth.

“Your dental records, however, are an entirely different matter,” was the white Unicorn's unamused retort to the hyperactive mare, whose attention was seemingly gone as she looked out the window and began to hum.

“That’s cold, Rare, even for me,” Rainbow Dash quietly said, raising an eyebrow.

“Now you done went and gone too far for a simple misunderstanding,” Applejack concurred while glancing over at Pinkie. Rarity realized the abrasiveness of her words, recognizing the hidden pain behind her friend’s actions. Her scowl melted away and ears drooped with regret.

“Oh dear, you’re absolutely right. I shouldn’t have said that, after what she went through during her last checkup. Pinkie Pie, will you accept my-oof!“

“ACCEPTED!” In the blink of an eye, the party girl had zoomed across the aisle and wrapped her forelegs around Rarity, cutting short her apology.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get the photo-op you wanted! How about we take one together? Derpy, please pass me my phone.”

The cross-eyed flier reached her snout in and pulled the smartphone out of the saddlebag. It was thrown to her with a flick of her neck, catching it effortlessly. She pulled Rarity in closer while aiming the camera lens towards them at an overhead angle.

“Ready? Three, two, one, Pika-CHUUU!” Pinkie overdrew as her lips pressed together and outward. When the speakers emitted an artificial camera shutter, she flipped the phone around to see the results and the two instantly started laughing.

“I have got to put this on Twitter! ‘@Rarity and me giving the duckface to reporters! #MLPFiM #LAX #Duckface',” she typed out and submitted. Within seconds, the likes, comments, and referrals started pouring in.

“This way it’ll make them think that we just arrived and going home!”

“Brilliant, darling! Absolutely brilliant! You’ve certainly mastered the art of social media!” Rarity stopped laughing for a moment to wipe her eyes with a wielded magically handkerchief.

“Why should we hog all the fun? Everypony here should sign up for Twitter! I help promote the show and the conventions we attend, so why not?”

“But I wouldn’t even know where to start. Everypony would probably find me too boring to follow online,” Fluttershy said self-deprecatingly.

Angel, fed up with her pessimism, scurried over to Pinkie Pie and waved a paw at her to come closer. When she leaned her head in, the rabbit whispered something into her ear.

“That’s a great idea, little buddy! Angel says we should share an account. We’ll call it @PinkiePie&Fluttershy. It’s just you and me against the world, partner! What do you say?” Pinkie offered a hoof to Fluttershy on the other side.

“Hmm, alright, that sounds much better.” The animal keeper timidly wrapped her own hoof around Pinkie’s to seal the deal.

“Alright! Applejack, why don’t you and Rainbow Dash link accounts too?”

“Why us?” Applejack asked, scratching her head. “We ain’t got anything alike. @TheAppleFamily is only used to share gardening tips and cooking recipes.”

“And I use my account to promote my band Hey Ocean!, which I just tweeted that we’re gunning for a show in Miami sometime next year. What’s little Miss Green Hoof gonna do for me? Write a song about apples and oranges? Before you do, here’s a hint: Nothing rhymes with the second one.”

“Gee, thanks for the advice,” the farmer said sarcastically. “Luckily there’s plenty of flattering words that rhyme with Dash: Crash, smash, rash, and her personal favorite, sla-“

“Oh HAY no!” the athlete roared, twisting her neck and bearing her teeth at Applejack. “One time! One time you caught me being curious on that FimFiction site, and you still drag it up?! NOT COOL!”

Applejack’s eyes widened at Rainbow’s sudden display of rage but held her ground, looking directly into those flaring pink irises and withstanding her deep irritable snorts of breath. She took no pleasure in making the Pegasus angry, especially about such a sensitive topic, but her callousness occasionally needed to be brought to heel. The tomboy finally broke eye contact and responded properly to Pinkie Pie’s earlier proposal.

“Sorry, but as you can see, @RainbowDash&Applejack would never work out. There’d be a new Twitter war each day amongst us.”

“Aw! A feeling I had thought it would work out,” Pinkie said while looking down at the floor.

“Some things just aren’t meant to happen, regardless of how badly you want them,” Twilight Sparkle said, patting her in condolence on the back with a forehoof as she stood in the cabin aisle.

“Yeah, you might be right. Hey, what about you? Don’t you want a Twitter account?”

“Sorry, but I’ll pass. I don’t have time for that kind of stuff.”

“Then you’ll be pleased to know that Luna and I have taken the liberty of setting up one for you and adding the entire cast to your ‘following’ list,” Princess Celestia informed her from the bed at the vehicle’s end.

Princess Luna sitting beside her levitated a tablet out to the purple unicorn, showing her the profile of @TwilightSparkle, which already had 50+ followers.

“But why, Princess? I don’t need this,” Twilight eased the thin computer aside with one hoof to ask her costar.

“Think of it as an extension to the very first task I gave you when the show began: To make friends. Mrs. Fyre-Flye and Hasbro don’t mind small interactions with the fanbase, and you might be pleasantly surprised as you get to know those who identify themselves as bronies.”

She gave her star pupil a wonderfully disarming smile that drew her in. Celestia capitalized on this by leaning down and whispering one final encouraging remark.

“And concerning that Twilicious recording you took from the studio archive? Publishing it on your Twitter page would help you enormously in catching up with the others; just something to consider down the road.”

The Daylight Alicorn winked at Twilight, who was speechless at first for being found out so easily, and then smiling when she understood she had her onscreen mentor’s support. She bowed to the two royal sisters before turning away, intent on returning to her seat and her script.

A wayward glance out the window informed her that they were no longer on airport property. The bus was uncomfortably squeezed into a parking lot meant for personal vehicles. Looking forward into the cabin, the studious unicorn could see her fellow cast members crowding into the aisle, also looking straight ahead. Annoyed when feeling deprived of information, she began to force her way through the pony blockade.

“Ugh, let me through! Mrs. Fyre-Flye? Mr. Stew? -Oh, sorry, Derpy- Why have we stopped? I thought we were going to make a U-turn back to Terminal T-“

Two is exactly what she saw when she got to the front of the pack: The red-maned Alicorn and her husband, sitting in the driver’s seat, were sharing a kiss. Twilight’s cheeks flushed as the small O-shape on her lips trembled. Wishing them privacy, attempts to look away in either direction only allowed her to gauge the others’ reactions.

“Isn’t that romantic? Such is love; always finding us when least expected,” Rarity said in hushed voice with a hoof pressed against her heart.

“So that’s what love is? Helping each other escape droves of reporters?” Spike asked flatly.

“Sure, Spike, ‘least how it goes in Hollywood.” Big Macintosh smirked and shook his head.

“Wow, they must be pretty good kissers to be at it for this long. I wonder which one’s had more practice.” Rainbow Dash elbowed sharply at Fluttershy, whose face was redder than the others and had been watching almost as if in a trance.

“More than you’ve had, because dreams don’t count,” Applejack threw in when Fluttershy only stuttered in response.

“Ack, pul-ease. It’s this little devil who’s gotten cozy with the pillow,” the athletic Pegasus impulsively revealed her bunkmate’s secret, with immediate effect. The timid flier’s face boiled over, steam practically wafting out of her ears. Whimpering, she ducked behind the backrest.

As the couple finally parted lips, a faint whisper between them was picked up by the audience.

“Thanks for always coming through in a pinch, Stewie.”

“Anytime, Lovebug.”

“Srnnk, Stewie? Lovebug? Heheh, how sweet,” Rainbow Dash murmured, chuckling somewhere over Twilight’s shoulder. The main star was about to silence her, but it was too late as the lovers turned their attention on their captive audience.

Mrs. Fyre-Flye’s part-time driver and full-time husband is actually a renowned producer of television and film in his own right. A fellow alumnus of California Institute of the Arts, he created The Powerpuff Girls for the Cartoon Network in 1998, which lasted for six seasons, inspired a major motion picture, and had a grand sendoff on the 10th anniversary of the series. Next in 2004, he developed Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends together with Fyre-Flye, whom he first met while still working on PPG. After five seasons of Foster’s, the network underwent a major programming shift that dissatisfied him, ultimately leading to his resignation. Later this year, he planned to formally announce the production of a new series in 2013 for Disney Channel called Wander Over Yonder, another brainchild of the husband and wife team.

The stallion’s earth pony frame seemed strikingly basic when the Alicorn beside him donned universal traits of every pony species. He had a two-tone coat of black and light brown with the black wrapping around his upper torso and forelegs, mimicking a T-shirt. Large hazel eyes gleamed through a curtaining mane of scruffy walnut-colored hair. The cutie mark on his flanks was the envy of Rainbow Dash herself; A crushed red-labeled can, the top lid cut open and jagged-edged with a murky brown solution leaching out. On the label, in white outlined letters, encompassed by a popping yellow background was the two-part word: WHOOPASS.

Seconds inched by as the two producers and the Friendship is Magic ensemble stared wordlessly at each other. The tension finally cracked as a certain party animal stood on her hind legs in the seat next to Derpy.

“Pinkie Pie, what are you doing?” Whoopee Stew asked incredulously, her bushy mane and tail bouncing as she jerkily reached towards the vehicle’s roof.

“I’m trying to reach the ‘TV-Y’ rating on the upper left corner of the screen. That kind of content deserves ‘TV-G’ instead,” she grunted matter-of-factly.

“But doesn’t that joke only work during filming? This reality doesn’t have a ‘fourth wall’ to break.”

“You’re right, Mr. Stew, I don’t see the rating at all. There’s only one explanation: We’re in a fan-written story based on the show! If so, then I declare the shipping of Fyre-Flye and Whoopee Stew as both my head-canon and OTP!”

“Okay, Pinkie, whatever you say,” the driver nodded on the outside while confused beyond all reason on the inside, as was likely everyone else on board.

That girl spends way too much time on the Internet…almost as much as she consumes sugar. Oh, who am I kidding? She was made not to believe in excess; too much of a good thing is never enough.

“Sorry to have kept you in the dark since our daring escape back there,” Mrs. Fyre-Flye said aloud to the cast. “Seeing a record number of reporters respond to our arrival, Whoopee and I knew it would take a while for them to clear out. Instead of rounding back to Terminal 2 on World Way, we opted to hide out in this parking lot just off West Century. We’ll be cutting the flight close, but the coast should be clear now, thanks in part to Pinkie’s clever diversion on Twitter.”

Pinkie mounted the bench again and saluted her with one foreleg.

“My pleasure, ma’am! Diversion and deception are my specialties,” she replied while sticking her tongue out at the former executive producer, who turned her head away momentarily to laugh.

“Come on, Stewie, let’s get everypony on that plane. Full steam ahead.”

The cast’s outburst of cheers and applause drowned out the driver’s attempt at response, so he let the engine do the talking as he steered the bus back onto the road to LAX.

10:21 AM PST (T-minus 01:14 hours until departure)
Saturday, January 7th, 2012
Los Angeles, California, U.S.A.
West Century Boulevard - En route to LAX

“Hey, RD, can we see those souvenirs now, or do you plan on taking them all the way to Canada?” Derpy asked, one of her disjointed eyes looking at the blue mare.

“Sure, and thanks for the reminder! I gotta empty this thing so I have room for my winter clothes,” Rainbow said while reaching under her seat and pulling out the metal clamshell rollerbag.

She turned the dials on the triple-digit combination lock, flipped open the secondary clamps and pried the case open on the bench, one side leaning against the backrest.

“I must admire your exceptional taste in hoof luggage; a handsome exterior with a well-cushioned interior,” Rarity mirthfully observed from the opposite bench.

“You like it too, huh? It’s a ZERO Halliburton, just like the ones you see in the movies,” the Pegasus gushed, craning her head over the entire cache of memorabilia.

“It took a pretty heavy beating on the way over from Miami, but everything’s still intact. This baby has already lived up to the brand’s rep!”

“Glad to hear that, considering the price we paid for it. That sleazy sales-pony must’ve hawked you the most expensive one he had,” Applejack muttered.

“I said I’m good for it, Applenezer Scrooge. You’re always penny-pinching. Don’t you ever feel the urge to splurge?”

“Yes, I do. While you went and snatched up every little trinket you could get your hooves on, I took my time looking around, saving my souvenir money for one good thing. Pass that over to me now, gently if you please.”

“Fine, fine,” Rainbow huffed as she pushed smaller objects aside to reveal a large conch shell with a spiny, striped outer edge, and smooth pink-and-white inner chamber. It came with a tri-legged wooden stand. The spectrum-maned Pegaus eyed it jealously before lowering it into the farmer’s waiting hooves. “Here.”

Smiling, Applejack quickly held it up to her ear, the idle flow of air through the hollow chamber instantly taking her back to those sparkling blue waves lapping up her hooves, the overhead rustle of swinging palm trees, and the echoing cry of seagulls. The shell was quaintly labeled with the name “Miami” in black cursive.

‘I got an incoming call from a Ms. Atlantic Ocean. Will you accept?’ the Stetson-crowned mare thought to herself, nodding.

“No fair. I’m the musician; I need inspiration! Can’t we share?” Rainbow asked pleadingly.

“I’ll consider it. What do you plan on offering me in return? How about that necklace?”

“What? No way! That’s my favorite one!” She yelled while jealously retracting the small jewelry box towards her chest. She gently opened the sapphire box, grinning at the precious object within that greeted her.

“Hey, Rarity, you mind helping me put this on?”

“Certainly, my dear,” Rarity got out her seat and walked over to her.

The box jittered as Rarity’s magical aura assumed control. The top lid came completely off, and out floated a sterling silver tortoise pendant, its shell embedded with onyx stones. The hair-thin chain snaked its way around the tomboy’s neck until the hook and loop were conjoined. The aura’s intensity faded until it was gone and the pendant hung freely from Rainbow Dash’s neck.

‘I like turtles,’ she proclaimed rather immaturely in her head referencing both the Internet meme, and her new pet, Tank.

“That’s fair enough, but I ain’t interested in any of the other stuff you bought,” Applejack stated, implying that the trade was still on.

“No thanks, I’ve changed my mind. I’ll take quantity over quality any day,” Rainbow said as she returned to her seat and continued digging through the rollerbag to find the rest of her goodies.

She pulled out a navy blue coffee mug with the Bayside Marketplace logo wrapped around it, and a cardboard tube that held a panoramic poster of downtown Miami’s nocturnal skyline.

“Aww yeah, you are SO going up on my wall when I get back home!” she proudly declared after unraveling and admiring it once more.

“Fluttershy and I want our souvies too! C’mon, Dashie, don’t be greedy!” Pinkie Pie climbed over rows of seats until she was behind Rainbow’s. She leaned her torso over the backrest and started digging through the suitcase.

“No it’s fine. She can take her time,” The yellow Pegasus said quickly, tentatively peeking her head over the bench in front.

“But I wanna show everypony the beautiful scarf you bought at that mansion! What’s it called again? Vizzy? Vizcayu?”

“Vizcaya Museum and Gardens,” Fluttershy corrected. “And maybe now’s not such a good time to-“

As Pinkie began to rise from over the bench, a large square gift box lid sailed over her shoulder, and suddenly the animal keeper’s view was stolen by a veil flown before her eyes. Hand-woven Italian silk depicted golden seahorses dancing serenely in an ocean current of intertwining baby blue and yellow accents. The daytime dream vanished instantly as it had materialized, but in denying sight, Fluttershy gasped to her over-reactant sense of touch as the cloth wisped around her neck until snug.

“Where we’re going is as far from Florida as anypony can imagine. Its wintertime and we need to wrap you up,” Pinkie Pie said, self-amused at her wordplay on an episode title and song from Season 1.

Fluttershy, always appreciative of the jokester’s hospitality, reached out with both front hooves and hugged her deeply. Pulling back, her teal eyes were swimming in happy tears.

“Thank you. Yes, I do love it. Are you sure you’re happy with your gifts?”

“Yeah I’m sure! I got this rocking music CD and a picture book of the whole museum to enjoy together,” Pinkie said as she procured the aforementioned items in one hoof, and a portable CD player and headphones in the other.

“Oh and here’s the box of tea you bought.”

She turned her body to face down the aisle, revealing a white-labeled tin box with a thin blue sealing ribbon running vertically over it, balancing on her back. Like the scarf, this blend of tea leaves was tailor-made for the Vizcaya museum and unavailable elsewhere. Fluttershy graciously accepted it, partaking of the aroma that permeated through the container.

The eccentric earth pony then took a seat right next to her, hurriedly propped the picture book in her lap, opened the CD case, set the disc into the player and affixed the ear-buds on. Rainbow Dash took this opportunity to reach over and extract the case’s mini booklet.

“The Music of Vizcaya: Selections from the Museum’s Historic Organ Rolls,” she read aloud, looking over and perplexed at Pinkie Pie thumping her head up and down ceaselessly as though she was listening to a heavy metal CD.

‘Some brainiac really oughtta study her. Never mind; Twilight did, and couldn’t crack the Da Pinkie code. She’ll always be one of ponykind’s greatest mysteries, and that’s the way we all like her,’ the athletic Pegasus justly concluded.

“Miss Dash? Big sist-, erm, I mean Princess Celestia humbly requests her collection of sentimental artifacts of that glorious southern land whence you came,” Princess Luna said officially as she stood facing her in the cabin aisle.

“Huh-buh? Oh, you mean Celestia’s Miami souvenirs? Sure, one second. Let’s get that big one out first.”

Rainbow gripped the corner of a large frame with her teeth. With some exertion, a black picture frame that occupied the suitcase’s inner dimensions arose. Encased within, shielded by glass, was a rectangular vertical canvas.

A cloudless blue sky promptly gave way to weathered yet preserved art deco hotels and shops colored vibrantly to endure the constant sun exposure. Palm trees and bushes lined the entire street. An antique automobile was parked against the canvas’ left side, while the remaining bottom right corner was dominated by an orange-ringed umbrella and the female form of an unknown species in vintage beachwear, sitting on a towel in the sand, her head turned down towards the street. A woven palm bag behind her had the words “Miami Beach” emblazoned upon it.

“What a magnificent piece! Where did she get this?” The Midnight Alicorn asked.

“We stumbled upon an art gallery right on Ocean Drive having a closeout sale. I never knew the Princess had it in her, but she haggled the shopkeeper down to less than half of the asking price!”

She flicked her eyes over to Applejack, anticipating another smart remark about money, but the orange earth pony was still admiring her seashell to have caught it.

“The four of us could learn a thing or two about souvenir shopping from her; she got a lot of good stuff for the money, like this scented candle of Mango and- dang! What’s that other fruit pronounced again?”

“Guava!” Pinkie Pie yelled as she tore off the ear-buds, inexplicably able to hear her despite having the CD music on at full blast. “Say it with me: Gh-why ya-vah! I’m craving one of those pastelitos so bad right now that I might take a bite out of that candle.”

Staring longingly at the glass jar in its cardboard casing, she took a deep breath of the tantalizing smell before sadly returning to her seat.

Moving forward from the sudden interruption, Princess Luna took possession of the painting, a “Brahm’s Lullaby” music box, a small bottle of Miami Beach sand, a Florida-themed towel, and the guava/ mango candle, thanking Rainbow Dash before rejoining her sister on the bed.

The rest of the souvenir handout was mostly uneventful. It wasn’t until the blue daredevil was trying to close her suitcase, now full of clothes and toiletries, when Twilight Sparkle approached, wearing a thin necklace with a tiny Miami-branded palm tree ornament.

“Allow me,” she offered. A purple sparkling aura snapped the suitcase shut, and lowered it back underneath the bench.

“Thanks a lot, Twilight. It took me forever to decide which of those necklaces I wanted most. Miami looks pretty good on you.”

She gave the studious unicorn her trademark grin that soon faltered when she continued to stare purposefully.

“The colt you met at BronyCon. Who was he?” Twilight asked her again.

“Oh, him,” Rainbow remembered. “The convention was being held at the Hotel Pennsylvania in Manhattan. I’m told 850 ponies attended, I mean it was jam-packed!”

She went on to describe a short-maned earth pony wearing expensive glasses, a dark brown shirt and business suit jacket, walking towards each actor’s autograph booth, shaking hooves and greeting them formally by name.

“He started with the usual stuff about how much he liked the show, but then he said he wanted to share the magic of his hometown and handed personalized gift bags to us.”

“What were in them?” Applebloom pressed on.

“We had too many ponies waiting to look right away,” Applejack stepped in to continue. “He got the autographs he paid for, but claimed they weren’t meant for him, instead for two of his friends in Tennessee who couldn’t make it to the convention. ‘Pyro’ and ‘Masta’ were their names, but he didn’t give his own. I did see his cutie mark as he left: A shattered clock face with glass pieces and numbers jumping out.”

“Pretty keen observation there, pal. Was that all you were looking at?” Rainbow Dash bounced her eyebrows at Applejack, aghast at the insinuation.

“No- I mean yes! Yes that was it!” she growled while tucking her Stetson downward to conceal her face.

================================================================================
Time froze still as Pinkie Pie gave the writer a vicious glare through the screen.

‘This is your first and only warning, Festo: Keep it clean or I’m changing the rating!’

Her mental threat somehow materialized onto the word processor so that that I could read it. Nodding apologetically, I moved on with the story.
================================================================================

“When we finally had a break in the green room, we looked inside the bags and found an orange, wrapped in a bright red ribbon and topped with a bow, like a gift-” Fluttershy provided a partial answer as to the bags’ contents before being interrupted.

“And it was so delicious! Why only one for everypony? I would’ve accepted a whole bunch!” Pinkie Pie complained rather predictably.

“Orange Bow?” Spike said, tilting his head in confusion.

“The real present was inside the sealed envelope: An American Airlines flight voucher to Miami from anywhere in the U.S., redeemable within a month of receipt,” Princess Celestia said, her voice carrying over clearly from the back.

“Did you meet him again there?” her younger sister Luna asked of her.

“He left us no contact information for a rendezvous. The gift bags were printed with names of the city’s landmarks he thought we would like, and he was right for the most part.”

“I wonder if he wants to meet the rest of us someday. He sounds pretty amazing, even for a brony,” the faithful student professed in admiration.

“I wouldn’t doubt it, Twilight,” Mrs. Fyre-Flye said, smiling. “I hate to interrupt, but we’ve been at curbside for a couple of minutes, and a cruiser’s bound to come by and shoo us away again.”

“Of course! C’mon everypony, last one through security buys the fries, and as fair warning, I like mine with extra cheese!” Twilight teased and followed Mrs. Fyre-Flye out the front doors.

10:42 AM PST (T-minus 00:53 hours until departure)
Saturday, January 7th, 2012
Los Angeles International Airport, California, U.S.A.
Terminal 2 Curbside (Air Canada)

“I’m sticking with them until they’re past the checkpoint. I can catch a taxi back home if you’re tired of waiting,” Mrs. Fyre-Flye said to her husband.

“They’ll eat you alive at these gas prices,” Mr. Stew shook his head up at her. “Parking’s cheaper. Just give me a ring when you’re done.”

“Thanks again, Stewie. At least you’ve got a fallback career if Wander clinches your retirement.”

“Who says I’m retired?”

The two producers shared another kiss before the earth pony climbed back on board the bus and closed the doors.

Uniformed baggage handlers idling nearby rushed over at Mrs. Fyre-Flye’s beckoning, yanking the rear emergency door open. Working together in a chain of hooves and magical strength, the cargo luggage was loaded onto a service cart. With the pathway clear, Princess Celestia nimbly stepped out of the doorway while Luna flew around and shut the door, rapping a hoof twice upon it to let the driver know he was good to go.

“Thank you, gentlemen,” The Princess of the Sun said to them with a bow before rejoining the others. The workers were left speechless by the actor’s beauty and show of respect. Their supervisor was not as understanding and snapped at them to get the cart inside.

The Economy Class line was minimally occupied. Between six available self-service kiosks, everyone was checked-in and holding boarding passes within minutes. Twilight scrutinized the details on hers closely, as she always did for a business trip.

Looking up from the parchment, she spotted Mrs. Fyre-Flye shaking hooves and speaking with a mare lurking behind some flight information monitors, wearing sunglasses and a trench coat, a graying mane indicative of advanced age.

‘Who’s that?’ she asked herself.

“Found any out of place inkblots yet?” Get any closer to that ticket and your books will get jealous.”

Twilight whipped an angry face at the tittering trio of Rainbow Dash, Scootaloo, and Pinkie Pie.

“That’s rich, coming from a stubbornly single pony like you!” she shot back.

“Eh, I don’t look at it as single,” the prankster shrugged. “More like free. I’m having way too much fun right now to worry about a boyfriend. If Mr. Right thinks he can catch me, then I’d love to see him try!”

“Everypony knows the quickest way to a mare’s heart is through her stomach!” Pinkie Pie cried while rubbing her belly with her hooves.

“I don’t think that’s the way the saying goes,” Scootaloo said.

“Look, Twilight, the point is that it’s the GUY who has to put in the work! Mares don’t chase after colts; that’s below us!”

“I think Rarity’s romanticisms are rubbing off on you.”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing!” Rainbow scoffed, and then froze in place as her ears perked attentively.

“Wait. I heard something; something familiar.”

“What is it?” Scootaloo asked.

“A finger snap, and a high-pitched ring-”

The tomboy stalked intently for something in the crowd down the hallway while Twilight, Pinkie, and Scootaloo followed. Her behavior was earning very suspicious looks from other passengers. Her head shot up with a gasp as she encountered another clue.

“What did you hear now?” the party animal questioned.

“No, a scent, two of them, and the only time I’ve ever smelled them together is-”

Rainbow Dash abruptly kicked up from the floor and soared fast through the terminal.

“Wait, Dashie! Come back!”

“Something’s wrong! Everypony after her!” Twilight yelled, galloping directly into the crowd that eagerly cleared a path for the crazy ponies. Mrs. Fyre-Flye and her mysterious contact took notice and joined in the pursuit.

‘I’ve got you this time! You should never drop your guard around me!’ the blue daredevil thought savagely, flapping her wings ever harder.

Straight ahead, towering over the other ponies with his back towards her was the object of her bloodlust. The target turned towards her, his eyebrows leaping over his sunglasses and dropping the newspaper he was reading.

‘That’s right, it’s too late to run OR hide, you old coot! I’m gonna be all over you any second!’

He snapped the scaly, claw-tipped fingers of his left hand, and in a brilliant flash of light, turned himself into stone with his arms thrown out, his slim body twisted and wearing an expression of horror.

“What the hay- NOOOOOOO!!!” The Pegasus screamed as she tried to veer away from the immobilized target, but was too close to fight her own inertia. Clenching her eyes shut was all she could do until the impact.

*SQUEE*

The “statue” ripped apart in a torrent of feathers and stuffing that cushioned the brash Pegasus all the way to the floor. Aside from her pounding head caused by increased blood flow, she was uninjured. She rose to her feet and used her wings to sweep her back and sides clean of any foreign material.

“Really now, Rainbow Dash, is aerial tackling any proper way for a mare to behave?” an older man’s voice coughed from somewhere below. Looking down, she saw the Draconequss’ stony, disembodied head hacking out a ball of cotton lodged in his throat.

“GAH!” the spectrum-maned girl shrieked and leaped away.

“There, that’s more like it,” he grinned.

“Rainbow Dash, are you alright?” Mrs. Fyre-Flye called out as she swept in on her own wings, scattering stuffing everywhere. She landed and kneeled in to check on her.

“DASHIEEE!!!” a sobbing Pinkie Pie slid across the feather-coated floor on her knees, colliding into and hugging her friend.

“You really scared me back there, you meanie! Don’t ever do that again!” she sobbed into her shoulder.

“Ditto!” Scootaloo yelled, sniffling but holding her tears at bay.

“What could’ a possibly set her off like that? Rainbow’s crazy, but that wasn’t like anything I’ve seen before,” Applejack pondered.

“At first she said it was a familiar sound, which I didn’t hear,” Twilight recalled. “Then two smells that she only experienced together when- The trail went cold when she bolted.”

“On the contrary, Sherclop Pones; the final clue is literally right under your nose,” the man’s voice chortled. Taking the hint, she titled her face below to a delightful, if unexpected reunion.

“Oh my gosh, Discord! How are you? It’s great to see you!”

“Likewise, Twilight, although I can’t say I’m making much headway since bumping into your rambunctious costar. How are things up there in the canopy?” he doubly quipped, getting laughs from most of the cast.

“Ah, my dear Princess Celestia,” he recognized and greeted from pack. “It’s no longer an exaggeration when I say your beauty makes me to fall to pieces. Just give me a moment to gather my thoughts, and my legs.”

Discord’s monochromatic head rose from the floor and was met by other portions of his shredded plush body. All the discarded feathers and stuffing rushed forth and enveloped him. With another flash of light, he conjured up his true form.

Faithful to his role as the villainous spirit of Chaos and Disharmony of Season 2’s pilot, his body parts was comprised of an asymmetrical variety of creatures that inhabited Equestria. His gray peanut-shaped skull had large yellow eyes with red irises, curving pointy-ended ears, two different horns, white overgrown eyebrows and beard with a cruel-looking fang protruding from his mouth. Following the gray-coated and black-maned neck to his brown-furred torso, the first wing on his back was blue and feathery, and the other purple and spindly. His left hand was a dexterous eagle claw, a dire contrast to his right one, a powerful lion’s paw. Further down the patchwork nature of the beast was a green dragon-based right leg and a hoof-tipped buffalo one as his left. At the end was a red-scaled and fin-lined serpent tail with bristly clump of hair at its tip.

Much-beloved by the fandom for his brief, yet pivotal moment of corrupting the “Mane Six” and turning them against each other, he was eventually defeated when Twilight relearned the magic of friendship through her own letters to Princess Celestia, restored her friends’ memories, and using the Elements of Harmony to turn the Chaos Lord to stone.

“Ahhh!” he sighed as he stretched out his back and his limbs, cracking loudly in several places from the effort. “Nothing like a good dismemberment to loosen up the joints,” he said casually before posing chivalrously before the Daylight Alicorn, holding his paw out to her. She raised a forehoof into his palm, to which he lowered his head and gave it a tender kiss.

“Why you enigmatic old fraud,” Celestia mocked lightly while turning her blushing face away. “You’re even wearing my favorite cologne today, and somepony else’s apparently.”

This quickly became evident as he was pounced on by Pinkie Pie and Derpy together, wrapping their front legs easily around him.

“Oof! Ha ha ha, yes, quite so!” he shouted merrily and returning their hugs with each arm. “It’s my own blend called Eau de Chocolat et Barbe à Papa!”

On cue, a class of chocolate milk and a paper cone topped with cotton candy poofed into existence. He lowered both girls back on the floor and let them have their treats.

“Oui, monsieur! Votre français est très bon!” Rarity applauded.

“I can only hope so by now, Rarity,” He returned in English a tad nervously.

“Where’re you headed? Europe?” Applejack guessed.

“Montreal, Quebec. I’m needed back at the studio for another recording session on a highly anticipated video game set to release later this year.”

“Sweet! What’s it called?” Spike leaned up at him, trying to keep his hat on.

“All in good time, my boy. Even moi, a master of chaos, cowers before the omnipotent NDA! Besides it’ll probably be rated well above your age group like the prior installment.” Discord affirmed with paw and claw folded in front of him.

“Hasn’t stopped me before, you know!” he admitted none too wisely within earshot of Twilight Sparkle.

“Now I do!” she retorted disapprovingly. Spike groaned as the every-limbed beast’s lip and eyebrow curved upward at him.

“Angel tells me your flight is Air Canada #798, leaving 20 minutes after ours. I was afraid we might cause you to miss your flight, but it seems you still have some spare time,” Fluttershy added in.

“Good to know,” Rainbow Dash broke in as she stepped out of Mrs. Fyre-Flye’s shadow. “I could’ve sworn I had the drop on you just now. How’d you sense me coming?”

“Alas, my headstrong friend, you of all ponies should know that achieving subsonic flight is neither easy nor subtle.”

“Tip-toeing didn’t work before. It doesn’t matter if I never find out your secret, because one day you’ll be mine!” she asserted with an evil smile.

“But you just said that mares don’t go after colts,” Scootaloo recalled innocently.

“That’s right, she did! Maybe somepony else has a secret they won’t share,” Twilight hinted at with relish.

Rainbow sensed she was about to taste her own medicine and reflexively tried to hold back the tide.

“What? N-no! No, it’s not like that! I’m just trying to settle the score to a rivalry we had during filming of The Return of Harmony! You remember, right, Discord?” she asked, turning desperately to him for backup. The Draconequss conversely played along by holding his head in his palms with a coy smile.

“I…I’m flattered beyond words that is what all these shenanigans were about! You have some very interesting ways of expressing your affection,” he said, fluttering his eyes at her.

Red-faced and humiliated, the prankster’s legs gave out as she sunk into the floor, concealing her face with her forehooves. His mission accomplished, the Chaos Lord retrieved his nearly-forgotten copy of The Los Angeles Times, snapped the spine straight and folded it under his eagle arm.

“Pardon me, for I have some last-minute arrangements to make with my hotel. I do so look forward to our next encounter.” As he turned to leave, two of the Cutie Mark Crusaders scampered in and grabbed his dragon and buffalo legs, weighing him down in place.

“Won’t you ever join us again on the show?” Applejack pleaded more through her “puppy dog” eyes than her voice.

“We’d love to have him back, Mrs. Fyre-Flye! Just think of the ratings!” Sweetie Belle suggested brightly.

As Discord leaned down to caress the top of their heads, he glanced helplessly at the show’s creator, unwilling to break the poor fillies’ hearts.

“Sorry girls, but that’s out of both our hooves; I’m no longer in charge. It’s all up to the writers and current showrunner to make that feasible.” The red-maned Alicorn delivered sadly. The young carpenter and vocalist reluctantly set their hostage free.

“Then we’ll just have to pester the hay out of them until they do, right Crusaders?” Scootaloo attempted to rally her compatriots. “Because the one thing our team does best is-”

“Annoy everyone to their wit’s end?“ Spike discreetly volunteered in the orange filly’s dramatic pause.

“Make the impossible come true!” she finished, with Applebloom and Sweetie Belle cheering in agreement.

Discord and Friendship is Magic’s remaining cast were walking away upon bidding their last goodbyes when Rainbow Dash soared up to him again and whispered something in his ear. Intrigued, he twisted his head around, narrowing his sight on Scootaloo and blinked. With a dual twinkle of his eyes, he fulfilled the glowering mare’s request and walked out onto the curbside.

Directly ahead of this final stretch of hallway was the starting queue and staircase ascending to the passenger screening checkpoint. The last set of flight information screens to their right yielded the status of the aircraft.

“Good, still on time. Twilight, the checklist, please,” Mrs. Fyre-Flye requested.

“Yes, ma’am,” the faithful student magically willed a clipboard and pen into being. The ex-producer took possession while the cast members customarily formed a single line against the wall to initiate the last roll call.

“’Mane Seven’ – Twilight Sparkle?”

“Here!”

“Spike?”

“Here!”

“Fluttershy?”

“H-here!”

“Pinkie Pie?”

“Aqui!”

“Rarity?”

“Ici!”

“Applejack?”

“Here!”

“Rainbow D-huh? Where is she- Rainbow Dash, get over here!” The legacy showrunner stamped a hoof into the ground.

“Here I am, hold your horses!” The spectrum-maned Pegasus blasted as she caught up to them and fell into line. With a stern look at the brash delinquent, she moved on.

“Cutie Mark Crusaders – Applebloom?”

“Here!”

“Sweetie Belle?

“Here!”

“Scootaloo?”

“HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK!!!”

The orange filly opened her mouth and emitted an earth-shaking foghorn, forcing everyone in the vicinity to double down and cover their ears. Terrified at what was happening, Scootaloo snapped her jaws shut. The blast of air had whipped the Alicorn’s red mane into a frenzy, loose strands poking out everywhere.

“What in the world was that?” a dumbstruck Mrs. Fyre-Flye asked, and quickly regretted it when the young Pegasus’ threw up her front hooves and vocalized an automobile accident; a symphony of buckling metal, shattering glass, and a dislodged tire thumping away loudly as if on her very eardrums. The ex-Producer snapped her head back to look out the windows, but traffic was crawling by at its usual pace without interruption.

There wasn’t a cloud in sight either, but she heard a terrible thunderstorm brewing nonetheless. The phenomenon originated from the girl that was on the verge of tears, with the first invisible raindrops pattering on the ground.

“Don’t cry, Scootaloo! It’ll be okay!” Applejack tried to console her.

“What’s happened to her, Rarity?” Sweetie Belle instinctively turned to her older sibling.

Princess Luna however stepped forth and lowered her horn until it connected both of their foreheads. A sparkling blue aura channeled through it as she closed her eyes and concentrated.

“This affliction was caused by magic that is too strong for any of us to break,” the Midnight Alicorn identified.

“Discord casted the jinx, as you might have guessed,” an unfamiliar female voice declared. “But the idea to give the kid a ‘big mouth’ wasn’t his, but Rainbow Dash’s.”

The Friendship is Magic cast turned to face the trench-coated mare Twilight noticed slinking around Air Canada’s check-in desk and speaking to Mrs. Fyre-Flye.

“And just who asked for your opinion, weirdo?!” The tomboy aggressively challenged the newcomer.

“Rainbow, shhh! Don’t be rude!” The former executive producer urged.

“The U.S. District Court for SoCal and the AD of the Los Angeles field office for starters,” she replied calmly.

“The court? Oh no, don’t tell me you’re-“

The mare fumbled a bit with the top button of her coat before getting it open. She reached into a pocket from the inner lining and procured a leather wallet with a gold badge and blue credentials encased inside.

“Tipped Scales, FBI airport liaison,” the veteran special agent introduced herself.

“I already met my probation officer for the last time, so why am I still checking in with you guys?” Rainbow exasperated, throwing up her front legs in frustration.

“As my predecessor has explained before, you’re under my supervision until you board the plane for your work; our jurisdiction ends when you leave U.S. airspace. And in the court’s eyes, your probation doesn’t officially end until midnight Pacific Time.”

“Luckily one’s bound to happen sooner than the other,” the tomboy remarked under her breath.

“I pulled your Draconequss friend aside for a chat after your last exchange. He says you wanted the jinx to last an hour, but made it so that it wears off in 5 minutes,” Airport Liaison Scales said before walking over to the Cutie Mark Crusaders and standing before the middle one.

“Hi. ‘Scootaloo’, was it?”

The orange filly nodded apprehensively.

“Take a look at my watch,” the trench-coated mare held out her right foreleg with the analogue timekeeping device strapped to it. “Rainbow asked for that jinx at approximately 10:47. Can you tell me what time it is now?”

“10:52 and 11 seconds,” she answered without thinking, gasping to hear her own response. “My voice, it’s back to normal!”

The trio of fillies rejoiced, drawing a smile from Scales herself.

“There, see? He loves stirring up chaos, but even he knows better than to overdo it at an airport. Now, Rainbow Dash, come over here and apologize to this child for your misdeeds,” she commanded while looking at her over her shoulder.

“B-but you don’t know the whole story of what she put me through!” the Pegasus exclaimed.

“Yes, I do; Discord told me. She couldn’t have possibly meant for that to happen. If you won’t apologize, then I’ll be forced to recommend that the judge extends your probation. My neck is already on the line to resolve service interruptions your racket caused.”

“Okay, okay, you win!” She took a wing-assisted jump over to Scootaloo and Special Agent Scales. Rainbow took a deep breath and sighed explosively as if asked to do the world’s most impossible task.

“Sorry, squirt- er, Scootaloo. Guess I showed everypony who’s more immature, right?”

“It’s okay, Rainbow Dash. Let’s just put this whole thing behind us,” the younger tomboy said with an unsettlingly wide grin.

“You mean it? Aw, thanks a lot, kiddo! You’re number one in my book!”

If only Discord’s jinx had lasted a little longer, for it might have disclosed a new sound that was playing continuously in the orange filly’s head; the sound of an axe being sharpened on a grinding wheel.

“Excuse me, Ms. FBI lady?” Derpy tentatively raised a hoof out of the pack. “So does this mean Rainbow’s no longer in any trouble?”

She understood that most ponies were surprised by her crossed eyes when they first meet, and the trench-coated mare was no exception.

“Call me Ms. Scales,” she began. “And yes, everything will be fine, so long as your friend promises to behave herself for the rest of our time together.”

“Thank goodness. This is my first time flying with the main cast, so I don’t really know what’s happened before. Why is Rainbow Dash on probation? What did she do?”

The gray-maned agent turned to the blue daredevil, who coldly turned away to face the wall, so the former executive producer took it upon herself to explain everything.

“Allow me, Derpy. The incident happened exactly one year ago.”

When I was still at the show’s helm; ironic that life seemed so much simpler then than it does now.

2:36 PM PST (T-minus 00:34 hours until departure)
Friday, January 7th, 2011
Los Angeles International Airport, California, U.S.A.
Terminal 2 Curbside (Air Canada)

The United States’ 3rd largest airport by passenger volume was beginning to wind down from its prime business hours when an antiquated privately owned bus hurried up the roadway to the “Departures” level. After one of the most excruciating Southland drives in recent memory, Whoopee Stew brought the vehicle to a stop at Terminal 2 curbside.

Pulling his hooves off the steering wheel, he leaned back in his chair and sighed, but the sound of crumpling paper below him elicited an irritated scoff. He recovered the California state citation that was wedged between his rump and the seat. His first ticket of the New Year, it was issued after getting caught speeding down the San Diego freeway.

‘Exceeding the speed limit down the 405’s about as probable as a smog-less forecast,’ he cynically thought, flicking the official paper over the dashboard to roast in the sun for a week before paying.

“Stewie, the doors please,” requested Executive Producer Fyre-Flye as she walked up the aisle to him.

“Right,” he complied, grabbing the lever to his right and pulled the front doors open.

His Alicorn wife was as stunning as ever, but hidden lines of stress were tensing her every feature, action, and word, akin to a puppet. The workload of a showrunner would be overwhelming to anyone the first time around. Even after two shows, there were things about the pipeline Mr. Stew struggled to comprehend, let alone master.

He’d be happy to offer some advice, but only if she asked. The night they celebrated Hasbro giving the green light to Friendship is Magic, she made it abundantly clear that this was her own project.

Mrs. Fyre-Flye stepped out onto the concrete platform, her eyes drawn instantly to the bus’s livery to her right; swirling patterns of pink, blue, and orange with the Foster’s moniker printed in a large curling white font along the side. The rear emergency exit door bore the circular logo of the show that concluded over one year ago, thus still fresh in the minds of fans. In fact, the producer spotted a couple ponies from the crowd pointing and taking pictures of the bus.

We started driving ourselves when shuttle rates to LAX hiked. The travel budget’s tight, allowing only afternoon flights that are delay-prone. I’ll leverage better conditions for next season. In the meantime, this bus could use some serious modifications for more room and less outside attention.

Having aspirations were good, but with a single glance at her pocket watch, exactly when she’d have the time to act on them was anyone’s guess.

“Hurry and grab your things, girls! They’ll start boarding any minute now!” she said loudly into the cabin doorway, then directing baggage handlers towards the emergency exit. The cast lined up in the aisle, stepping outside one at a time and into the terminal.

“That’s not fair; calling us all ‘girls’ like that. She knows that there’s me, Big Mac, and a few of the Royal Guards!” Spike complained while slinging a backpack over his left shoulder.

“Settle down, Spike. You know she don’t mean nothing by it. We‘re just outnumbered,” Big Macintosh said unbothered.

“Well, big brother, if it’ll make y’all feel better, we can go ahead and throw RD into your camp!” Applejack teased.

“Oh ha, ha, HA! Nice one, rodeo clown! Plenty of room in the club for another tomboy! You’d fit right in!” blasted Rainbow Dash.

“Now just wait a minute! I think y’all are forgetting Angel! He’s a boy, and he deserves to be counted! Applebloom declared.

The white rabbit atop of Fluttershy’s back squeaked in approval as the automatic doors slid open for them to enter.

“It’s too bad that Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo, or Princess Luna couldn’t join us,” the timid Pegasus lamented. “The Cutie Mark Crusaders were formally introduced in this morning’s episode: Call of the Cutie.”

“I know, but Mrs. Fyre-Flye said we couldn’t afford it. That episode was Sweetie’s time to shine. She should get to meet her adoring fans!” Rarity decried with a clenched hoof in the air.

“What fans? I haven’t seen anypony ask for my autograph yet,” Twilight said absently, taking the lead at Air Canada’s check-in line while still nose-deep into her script.

<CONFIDENTIAL PRODUCTION MATERIAL>

AUTHORIZED DUPLICATION NUMBER: 0018

AUTHORIZED RECIPIENT(S): MS. TWILIGHT SPARKLE

“MY LITTLE PONY: FRIENDSHIP IS MAGIC”

SEASON 1, EPISODE 13
FINAL DRAFT SCRIPT

WRITTEN BY: KEETER

DIRECTED BY: WOOTIE

STORY EDITED BY: ROBBIE

EXCUTIVE PRODUCER: FYRE-FLYE

PROJECTED DATE OF PREMIER: JANUARY 14TH, 2011

© 2010 HASBRO, INC.

WARNING: The content of this document represents the confidential works of Hasbro Incorporated, and is protected by international copyright laws. Unauthorized possession, alteration, and duplication of this work can, and will be prosecuted to the maximum extent of the law. You are required to have signed and agreed to applicable NDA protocols upon receipt of this document.

“You don’t say,” Spike said, holding his palms up to his face and blindly walking forward to a ticket kiosk, getting a laugh out of several cast members.

“At least we were able to watch it together! You and the other fillies were terrific, Applebloom!” Pinkie Pie praised heartily.

“Thank you kindly, Ms. Pinkamena. I just wish we could’ve done the ‘Cupcakes’ duet as written in the script,” the youngest apple sibling sadly recounted.

“Aw, buck up. You’ll get another chance soon. And call me Pinkie; all of my friends can!”

Once more alongside the checked baggage, Princess Celestia and her royal guard escort brought up the rear. The stallions clasped in gilded body armor and helmets were two white Pegasi and two gray unicorns, their respective blue and gold eyes furrowed and actively scanning everything within their environment.

They reorganized from a box formation into a crescent as their protectee obtained her boarding pass from one of the machines. The silent concentration and professionalism they displayed was something to admire.

“Man, what a bunch of stiffs. I wonder what they do for fun,” Rainbow Dash wisecracked with earnest curiosity. “I bet they throw some wild parties, eh ‘most faithful student’?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Twilight plainly as she slipped her boarding pass into a saddlebag before continuing.

“You’re always sizing up ponies by way they look, when they could all be poetry lovers just like-“

She gasped and froze mid-step, her mind catching up to her mouth with the dawning fact she just played right into Rainbow’s hooves. One dreadful look over her shoulder confirmed as much.

“Just like who now? Please, do tell. C’mon, look at this honest face: I can keep a secret,” the spectrum-maned Pegasus grinned.

Hesitant to speak, she watched powerlessly watch as the equine monarch and her security detail walked past, leaving Twilight and Rainbow as the last two stragglers in the hallway.

“You’re supposed to represent the element of Loyalty; Applejack is Honesty,” the studious unicorn reminded her as she started forward again, trying to catch up with the others now gathered by the checkpoint entrance.

“Hey, that’s even better, right?” the athletic Pegasus’ voice floated into her ear. “Spill the colt’s name already!”

“The answer is no, now stop it, we’re late!” she shouted as she broke into a full gallop.

The blue daredevil was faster and rounded directly into Twilight’s path, who stumbled to a halt, her shock was compounded by how positively irked she looked.

“Let’s get one thing straight here! ‘No’ is not in my vocabulary! Respect that, and I won’t go Fahrenheit 451 on your starry butt!” Rainbow Dash yelled harshly with a menacing step forward.

The main star sat on her haunches, heart beating rapidly, leaning away from her aggressive costar, maintaining eye contact for several long seconds until the tomboy was unexpectedly yanked back by the tail. Applejack appeared from behind, spitting out the multi-colored hair, whose owner lividly turned towards her.

“Twilight, pass me your dictionary and I’ll teach this bully a couple more words she needs, like humble and punctual! Everypony knows you overslept, and that it’s your fault we’re running late!” the Stetson-crowned mare accused.

Episode 13, Fall Weather Friends, centralizes on the quarreling that Applejack and Rainbow Dash partake on a regular basis. The desire to prove athletic superiority will drive a stake in their friendship when competitiveness urges them to win at any cost.

Both the farmer and prankster were mandated to train hard for their most physically demanding performance yet. But Rainbow overexerted herself the evening before the flight and slept in, making the entire cast leave the house extraordinary late.

Whoopee Stew tried to make up for lost time by going full throttle on the freeway, only to be pulled over by the California Highway Patrol a half-mile down. The traffic had invariably built up again by the time the officer cut them loose, so they crawled to the nearest exit and cut through city streets to reach LAX with barely the slightest chance of making their flight.

“So what, Farmer Jane? I take my exercise a little more seriously than you do, and that extra bit means I’ll pass the finish line before you during the ‘Running of the Leaves’ marathon!”

“The script says we’re supposed to get into a tussle and pass it together in last place!”

“Me and Keater are great friends! She’s bound to change that ending for me!”

“Girls, maybe we shouldn’t discuss the story material in public,” was Twilight’s attempt to quell the hostilities, but it went completely unnoticed.

“You’ve been getting a little too big for your britches lately, you know that?!”

"Better that than my waistline, pudgy!” Rainbow Dash snapped and poked a hoof in Applejack’s side, a fair layer of body fat yielded easily to the force.

“Why, you ungrateful- It’s thanks to my farming AND cooking that keeps you energized for your workouts! IF YOU DON’T LIKE IT, THEN PAY FOR YOUR OWN MENU!!!” Applejack screamed in ever-rising tones.

“Twilight, you’ve got to come to the checkpoint right away! We’ve got a big problem!” Spike said as he slipped in through the circle of bystanders watching the argument. His eyes went fearfully wide when a red-faced and crying Applejack turned to face him.

“What happened? Are you okay?” he asked, raising a scaly hand to wipe away the tears, but the farmer instead leaned her head in to rest against the open palm, feeling the heat of the recent argument.

“Thanks, Spike, but it’s all over now,” she assured as she cleared her own face with her right forehoof. “Let’s just get to that checkpoint.”

She picked up Spike on her back and looked over her shoulder at Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash, who objectively nodded and ran down the hallway with her.

From the third-floor boarding level, a solid line of passengers snaked its way down both sides of the pyramidal staircase and the second-floor queue, which ponies continued to fill from the nearby counters of TACA and Sun Country airlines.

Air Canada flight #557 to Vancouver is paging Mrs. Fyre-Flye; a party of 12 passengers. Repeat: Mrs. Fyre-Flye and your party of 12, please report to gate 26 for immediate boarding. Thank you.

The red-maned Alicorn stood motionless before the queue, staring through her silver pocket watch at the floor.

We’re finished. There’s no way we’ll get past this in time without “Top Tier” priority boarding, and we were just a couple hundred miles short of getting it too.

“Ma’am, they just called for us on the intercom. Shall we give it a try anyway? Maybe the other passengers will allow us to skip ahead,” Princess Celestia suggested to her as the guards encased both in their protective box. The brush of armor against her pelt stirred her back to reality.

“No. I won’t ask the impossible, especially of Spike and Applebloom. Our bags won’t fly without us, so we’ll have to pick them up and rebook on the next possible flight,” the executive producer decided, and the equine monarch respectfully bowed her head.

“At least this gives me something to encourage Hasbro to finance morning flights from now on.”

No one has to know that Rainbow overslept. I really appreciate that she went the extra distance, and it will certainly pay off when we start shooting the episode.

“Shut up, Applejack! How exactly is this stupid line my fault?!”

“Late to bed, late to rise! That clear enough for you?!”

Mrs. Fyre-Flye, help! They’re at it again!” Twilight yelled out.

“What’s going on here?” the showrunner demanded after running over to intervene. “Look, I’m afraid to say that we’re not flying today, but nopony’s being held responsible.”

“And I’m saying she has to be, otherwise we’d just be encouraging her bad behavior! Ma’am, you and I both know this one overslept and caused us to miss the flight!” Applejack said.

“What you do mean you and I? You said everypony already knew I woke up late!” Rainbow shot back.

“No we didn’t, until you told us just now,” Big Macintosh admitted.

The tomboy fell upright on her haunches, chest tightening as she looked into every one of her fellow cast members’ eyes and feeling the weight of self-conviction.

“It’s okay, Rainbow. I’m not mad. Angel and I would like the extra time to prepare for our roles too,” Fluttershy said with a smile.

“Nor am I, darling. According to the latest Vancouver forecast, this outfit would’ve been inadequate,” Rarity determined as she looked up from her smartphone.

“I’m mad at you, Dashie! Grrr, hee-hee! But you could make it up by buying me something at The Encounter restaurant in the theme building. I’ve always wanted to try it!” Pinkie Pie said half-jokingly.

Rainbow had heard enough. The sinking dread ignited into soaring rage. With a snarling countenance, she whirled herself around on her front legs and bucked her hind ones into Applejack as hard as she could.

A dull clap of hooves against skull-bone sent the Stetson and its owner flying several feet, crashing into the closest, unsuspecting passengers that made up the ridiculously long line. Bleeding from her nose, Applejack succumbed to unconsciousness in the resulting chaos. Mrs. Fyre-Flye remained in a state of shock until she felt something light thrown against her legs.

It was Rainbow Dash’s crumpled boarding pass.

“Forget you guys! I’ll see you in Vancouver!” its former owner condemned them over her shoulder as she ran for the doors.

NO!

“RAINBOW, STOP!!!” The producer shouted and gave chase.

The blue daredevil turned left on the curbside and kicked up from the ground. Passengers, well-wishing family members, employees carting luggage into the terminal; everyone and everything in her way hit the dirt or froze in place as she skillfully dodged or soared above them all. Pony traffic gave way to cars and buses as Rainbow veered right into the driveway. Horns blared and tires were screeching against the sun-scorched asphalt as drivers avoided colliding with the speeding Pegasus.

Climbing to higher plains, the airport complex and boring two-dimensional world fell away. The simple, unadulterated joy of natural flight coursed through every feather and strand of fur. She would’ve been content on her current vector if it wasn’t in the wrong direction.

‘Just stick to the coastline and it’ll lead you to Vancouver,’ Rainbow thought to herself. The roaring wake of a departing jet to her right impulsively sparked a really bad idea.

‘Think I’ll have some fun with those jerks. They probably cheated their way through security and got on the plane.’

Grinning wickedly, she banked left over West Century Boulevard and was now facing a runway leading west towards the Pacific Ocean.

“Virgin Atlantic number double-oh eight, this is LAX tower. You are cleared for takeoff down runway 6R/24L, over,” the air traffic controller stated over the radio.

“Victor Sierra-Eight copies tower, cheers. Shame London’s not so warm this time of year, over and out,” the Flight Captain joked before tuning out of the channel, focusing on the 2700 meters of concrete ahead of him.

“Lead flight attendant reports the safety briefing is complete and all passengers are strapped in,” the copilot reported with one hoof pressed against his headset.

“Avionic readings are green across the board, sir!” The flight engineer called out from his station behind the pilots’ seats.

“Excellent. Right, chaps, all ahead full,” the Captain said as he pushed slowly on the multi-pronged throttle with one hoof. The whirring engines grew more intense and pushed massive 747 forward.

“A red-and-white plane, that’s gotta be it!” Rainbow yelled out. Her mane and tail whipped about as she dived towards it, holding an altitude just above the tarmac and increasing speed. The aircraft ahead of her grew large, too large as the distance dwindled.

“That’s no bird! What the devil is that?!” the Captain shouted as he froze the hoof pushing the throttle.

“It’s coming straight towards us! Reduce power, reduce power!” The copilot reached out with both hooves and pulled back on the lever.

With the terrifying realization that she was playing chicken with the wrong jet, she arched her body upwards over the right wing. The plane was simultaneously going nose up with sufficient wind resistance. A turbine engine nearly sucked Rainbow Dash into oblivion, and a tourist who was sneaking one last picture of Los Angeles before takeoff managed to capture this deadly close call.

The updraft created by her ascent fed even more resistance to the wing’s extended flaps, causing the plane to list left uncontrollably. Nighttime guiding lights were crushed beneath the massive wheels as the entire fuselage trembled and groaned in protest. The main cabin’s occupants screamed for their lives, holding their forelegs over their heads when overhead bins jolted open and luggage fell out.

“Bloody hay!” The Flight Captain relinquished one hoof from the shaking controls momentarily to retune the radio.

“LAX tower, LAX tower, this is VS-008! We’ve had a near head-on collision and are turning by momentum to runway 6L/24R! Make sure that runway stays clear, acknowledge!”

“LAX tower copies, VS-008! Stopping all outgoing flights and diverting inbounds to runways 7L/25R and 7R/25L, over!”

“VS-008 copies tower, over and out! More power to the port engines! We need to level her out!” The Captain unlocked the main throttle into two separate ones and engaged the left side only.

“Passengers and flight attendants, assume crash positions; heads down and forelegs up!” The copilot directed over the intercom, wrestling his controls in both hooves.

“Current angle is 20 degrees and dropping; reduce power on port and starboard!” The engineer declared.

After a harrowing and protracted 5 minutes of emergency maneuvers, the 747 had come to a stop at the very end of the runway parallel to its original path. LAX’s senior air traffic controller on duty watched as fire rescue vehicles consolidated and rolled towards it with lights flashing.

‘Well that’s a delay, and investigation worth millions and many pony-hours of work. Better get started,’ she thought unhappily.

“Get me NORAD; priority 3. Somepony’s gonna pay for this,” she ordered a subordinate, taking a seat at the nearest station with a secure phone.

Wholly indifferent to the mayhem she raised with that last stunt, Rainbow Dash crossed land’s end, the late afternoon sunlight dancing across the ocean surface. Beautiful but distracting, she adjusted course towards Malibu, where the coast led her over the cities of Oxnard, Ventura, and the resort town of Santa Barbara. Her eyes clued in to the artificial crisscrossing lines of another, smaller airport.

‘I’ve always hated that kind of flying. Feels like being in a can of sardines, only it smells worse.’ She wrinkled her nose at the unpleasant memories of past trips and flapped on.

The tomboy cut across land upon reaching Cojo Bay, persevering her energy by gliding down on wind currents that accumulated over the mountainous terrain. She dipped back out over the water to bypass Lompoc’s city limits. Far below on Ocean Beach Park was the first layer of chain-linked and barbed wire perimeter fencing to a restricted area with the following sign repeated across its length.

3:18 PM PST
Friday, January 7th, 2011
Vandenberg Air Force Base, California, U.S.A.
Space Launch Complex-6

“Good afternoon to everypony just joining the webcast. I’m Ferric Shores, broadcasting live from Delta Mission Control, and I’ll be your launch commentator for today’s mission,”

A colt spoke into a headset microphone from his booth overlooking the control room staffed by civilian and military personnel. He had a bushy, rusty-brown mane and tail, wearing a blue business jacket and diagonally-striped tie. His cutie mark was the astronomical symbol for Mars, the God of War.

“We have just exited the planned 15-minute hold and are now T-minus 5 minutes and counting from liftoff of the United Launch Alliance’s Delta IV Heavy rocket, carrying the NROL-49 mission for the National Reconnaissance Office. As stated earlier, this will mark the first West Coast launch of the Delta IV Heavy. Let’s listen in on the launch conductor and his joint ULA/ USAF team overseeing the final countdown.”

Bottle Rocket, as his name and cutie mark would imply, has held a lifelong passion for space exploration since the late 1950s. His initial dream of becoming an astronaut evolved into understanding the science of breaching Earth’s atmosphere. As Launch Conductor with many years of experience, he holds a great deal of respect, helped in no small part to that childhood fascination still burning strong.

“First stage internal transfer complete,” said one of his team members over the radio.

“Minus 240 seconds,” announced a second one. Conductor Rocket turned his attention to the red LED digital clock posted above the main screen as the blocky numbers counted backwards.

“Vehicle ordinance armed.”

“CBC propellant tanks securing starting.”

“Hold, hold, hold!” Someone called out over the command channel with 3 minutes and 23 seconds left on the clock.

“This is the LC. Identify your station, and the condition you observed that exceeds launch constraints,” Bottle Rocket advised, jumping up from his chair.

“LC, this is ATC1! My radar is showing an unidentified flying object approaching the Launchpad rapidly from the south!”

“LC, this is GSC! First and second radial proximity alarms have been tripped with ten seconds of each!”

With the second report, the launch conductor’s eyes snapped onto the main screen and witnessed a blue mass zoom past the giant orange-and-white rocket and supporting umbilical tower. There were shouts of surprise from others who caught it.

“Attention all stations: LC is aborting launch! Repeat: We are aborting launch due to a critical security breach!” Bottle Rocket announced, triggering a flurry of activity throughout the control room.

“Roger, LC! Initiating propulsion recycling!”

“Copy, LC! Saving and securing of launch vehicle started! Both MAS and MST are rolling!”

The Mobile Assembly Shelter and Mobile Service Tower began their arduous crawl forward to enclose the grounded Delta IV Heavy. The launch conductor turned around and looked up at the launch commentator’s booth, and could see the camera was still running beside the agape colt. He drew a horizontal line in front of his neck to turn it off. When it was unacknowledged, he snatched up an idle microphone.

“Shores, kill the feed!” he yelled.

Ferric winced as the order blasted into his headset but recovered and turned the camera away from the window. “Uh, sorry fillies and gentlecolts, but as you may heard, a serious situation has just cancelled today’s launch. Rescheduling information can be found on our website as it comes in. On behalf of the United Launch Alliance, this has been Ferric Shores. Thank you for watching and good night.”

4:25 PM MST
Friday, January 7th, 2011
Peterson Air Force Base, Colorado, U.S.A.
North American Aerospace Defense Command - NORAD

A consortium of high-ranking military officers and aides swarmed through the complex’s interior. Clearing multiple security checkpoints to reach their destination, the posted armed soldiers saluted their uniformed superiors.

“What time did the FAA say the takeoff interference occurred?” asked a two-star Major General.

“Approximately 1511 hours Pacific, sir,” replied one aide.

“The UFO departed west from LAX and followed the coast north. Then, roughly seven minutes ago at 1518, the 30th Space Wing Commander at Vandenberg reported the flyby of a blue UAV,” read a three-starred superior from a memo carried in front of him by his aide’s magic.

“Why would anypony fly one low enough for interception?” pondered a newly-instated Brigadier General.

“The operator was rightly confident in its speed capabilities; it left their AOR before jets could be scrambled,” answered a Lieutenant General.

“There’s also the possibility that photographing the rocket launch wasn’t so much its objective as was disrupting it,” surmised one of the four star officers in the pack.

“General Tacks, NRO has just approved access to USA-129; near-polar orbit, currently 500,000 feet above Laredo, sir,” the jogging aide informed the American Commanding General of NORAD.

“That old lemon? We’ll be lucky to get a shot of it crossing the Bering,” Brass Tacks sighed.

“I assure you that won’t happen. CFB Comox is now on high alert, the 19 Wing ready to shoot that thing down when it crosses the 49th parallel,” asserted Canadian Commanding General Biting Bark.

With a final swipe of card keys, the reinforced blast doors before them gradually swung open to reveal an operations room of unprecedented scope. Service members of the bilateral partnership were working side by side at each workstation. The primary monitor on the far wall displayed orbiting patterns of satellites, while adjacent ones were turned into various media outlets.

“Sir!” a US officer with a silver eagle denomination approached and saluted General Tacks, formally stepping down from command.

“Directional controls for USA-129 are online and being adjusted to follow the target from its last known coordinates.”

“Very good, Colonel,” Tacks said while looking at the main screen that compartmented itself into three different video feeds. The first two were a 3-D representation of the Earth and satellite orbit rings and a “dashboard” view of the satellite itself. The third and biggest picture would remain a haze of static until axial manipulations were complete.

4:02 PM PST
Friday, January 7th, 2011
Airborne over Huddart Park, California, U.S.A.
Bearing north along the Junipero Serra Freeway

Northern California greeted Rainbow Dash with an aggravating mix of blazing hot sunlight and blistering cold winds. She didn’t know whether to sweat or shiver, so she chose merely to cover her eyes with one foreleg from the light.

‘Never been this up north outside of a plane before, and I already don’t like it,’ she grumbled internally.

The air temperature plummeted ever since leaving that remote missile base behind. Although not overtly superstitious, the weather-pony by trade couldn’t shake the feeling that it was an omen.

Sailing over the Crystal Springs Reservoir and San Andreas Lake, the course ahead was blanketed in heavy fog. Lacking a map or directional tool of any kind, she decided to dive into the shroud in order to find a sign or landmark that would steer her back on course.

Misty suburban neighborhoods nestled against the mountains stretched out in every direction. Keeping the 280 freeway in her right peripheral vision, the blue daredevil was drawn to the screeching silver-colored train that emerged from an underground tunnel and stopped at an elevated station. The echoing pops of gunshots originated from a freshwater lake on the left, the Pegasus instinctively edging away from it.

The fog had accumulated at the foothills of the approaching mountainous range. Gaining altitude and clearing them with a renewed flapping of wings, Rainbow was treated to a magnificent view of a bayside city that was historic, audacious, and undoubtedly Californian.

‘Wow, so this is San Francisco, with the piers, cable cars, and that big pointy building? Yup, they’re all here. Not too bad, except for the cold. Now where’s that-’

“Aha!” she said and zoomed off towards the landmark she had been looking for.

Ascending from the convoluted pathways of the Presidio were the international orange-colored towers and cabling of the Golden Gate Bridge, the gentle sloping of the latter was begging yet another opportunity to show off; an impulse that Rainbow Dash was always keen to oblige.

Descending towards the roadway, she blew past the vehicle toll booth and aligned herself with the pedestrian walkway on the right hand side of the bridge. The main pipe began running upwards from a stone foundation with a row of vertical reinforcing cabling running down its entire length. The tomboy weaved in and out of each column, shifting quickly into corkscrews through them. She righted herself over the main pipe on approach to the first tower. A square, sharp-ended pedestal at the very top was the focal point she was hoping for.

‘Yes, just a little closer-’

When her front hooves made contact with the pedestal, she tucked her wings in, shifted her center of gravity and catapulted herself over the tower, somersaulting repeatedly.

Sensing the eventual pull of gravity, Rainbow unfurled, using her wings to slow her descent. She landed hind legs first onto the main pipe and slid down towards the vehicle deck. Trailing sparks from her hooves, her legs jerked intermittingly on uneven sections of the pipe. Thoroughly enjoying the thrill of unnecessary danger, she stomped her hooves into the metal to generate more sparks.

San Francisco residents and tourists halfway across the bridge looked around for the source of that horrendous metallic racket, not the least bit expecting to find a blue mare with rainbow-streaked hair rolling past them, an arrogant, devilish look on her face.

The athlete’s momentum depreciated upon reaching the middle, so she tilted forward and began running on all four legs up the main pipe. Before long, her muscles ached slightly at the unyielding build of incline.

‘This is awesome! Best workout I’ve ever had, and the cold just soothes and keeps me going! I am definitely coming back here and see the rest of this city!’

Rainbow leaped into a flip from the pipe into the topmost loop of the second tower. When all four legs connected on the orange metal, she launched into the Marin Headlands and onwards towards Vancouver.

At inconceivable heights above, an aging spy satellite had successfully acquired the prankster and was transmitting live footage back to NORAD.

5:12 PM MST
Friday, January 7th, 2011
Peterson Air Force Base, Colorado, U.S.A.
North American Aerospace Defense Command - NORAD

The installation’s commanding officers stood in shock watching the black-and white depiction of a Pegasus flying across the terrain at incredible speeds.

“Unbelievable. It wasn’t a UFO or UAV at all,” General Bark observed loudly.

“Indeed that our perpetrator turned out to be an Unidentified Flying Pony,” said General Tacks.

Since its destination still lied to the north, they might have a chance to get some questions answered.

“Where is the UFP’s current location?” Tacks implored of the US Colonel.

“It just passed Crescent City and the California state line, sir,” the junior officer said as he typed into a workstation keyboard, projecting onto the primary monitor a map of West Coast US military installations and a running blue dot.

“Shoot, its fast. Oregon assets won’t be viable at this rate. We need to be one step ahead.”

“We have WADS at Lewis-McChord, standing by under jurisdiction of the Washington National Guard, sir.”

“Colonel, notify the base commander he’s under ours now. I want an F-15 and Pegasi CAP mission to fly in from behind, coax it into landing at McChord, and placed under arrest.”

“Yes, sir. However, clearance to engage the UFP requires authorization from higher command.”

“You’ll have it shortly,” General Tacks replied curtly before reaching for a red button-free telephone receiver and holding it up to his ear.”

“Pentagon switchboard,” the operator said.

“This is US Commanding General of NORAD Brass Tacks. Get me SECDEF. Emergency code: Choctaw 235-407. Tell him Operation Noble Eagle is going into effect.”

4:29 PM PST
Friday, January 7th, 2011
Airborne over Portland, Oregon, U.S.A.
Bearing north along Interstate 5

A torrential downpour against her wings proved too hazardous for Rainbow Dash to stay close to the ground. She pitched up into the gray rainclouds and was bathing in pure sunlight once again. The storm seemed to stretch on for miles into the next state.

‘Can’t be much farther out. Seattle should be pretty recognizable with that Space Needle and equally lousy weather,’ Rainbow Dash glumly voiced in her head. Nearly two hours of non-stop flying, the various distractions notwithstanding, would leave any Pegasus exhausted.

Sailing onwards over the sea of clouds, the tomboy was hearing the high-pitched squeal of jet engines cutting through the stormy ambiance.

‘Oops, did I fly past another airport?’ No, that sounds way too small for those oversized tin cans. And why do I hear them on either side?’

The noise reached the peak that she was prepared to tolerate when two pairs of gray fins rose dramatically like sharks from the maelstrom underneath. Unlike the water-based predators, these fins were stamped with insignias and alphanumerical combinations that were indecipherable to Rainbow. The cloudy layer exploded in her face as the F-15s exposed their full form,

‘Gah! Why you son of a-’ Rainbow’s mood flipped when she saw the jets.

“Wow, you guys must be from the U.S. Air Force!” she yelled elatedly and waved a hoof at the pilots. “You were probably so impressed by my flying that you wanted to race me, huh? How lucky can a girl get in one day?”

The earth pony and unicorn manning each cockpit didn’t return the wave, giving only sparse glances through polarized helmet lenses. The tomboy raised an eyebrow in suspicion. With two more aerial breaches through the storm, a Pegasi duo wearing flight suits aligned themselves between Rainbow Dash and the warplanes.

“Unidentified Flying Pony,” one of them spoke through a microphone installed in his face mask. “We represent elements of the 325th Fighter Wing, and the Western Air Defense Sector. You are to be diverted immediately to McChord field. Failure to comply may result in lethal consequences.”

“WHAT?!” Rainbow shouted to be heard over the engines.

“He said we’re escorting you back to base for detaining,” the second Pegasus answered electronically.

“I UNDERSTOOD THAT, BUT WHAT FOR?!”

“You have neither the clearance nor ‘need to know’,” the first negotiator bluffed, as he wasn’t told much beyond his orders.

“This is your final warning – Acknowledge that you will follow us to McChord or risk interception.”

“NO! I’M NOT GOING ANYWHERE WITH YOU BOZOS! HERE’S WHAT I THINK ABOUT YOUR ‘FINAL WARNING’!”

The prankster veered into the first uniformed flier and swiped her tail at his helmet before speeding off.

Unwittingly providing cause for more aggressive action, the slighted airman advised the jets to fall back as he leaped into an arc maneuver and seized Rainbow, wrapping his forelegs around her waist.

“Hey! Lemme go, buckethead!” she cried, flailing wildly and trying to reopen her wings. Feeling the oxygen hose against her mane, she reared her neck back, snapping her jaws around it and wrenched the mask off, then driving the back of her skull into the captor’s snout in a fluid 3-step motion.

With a painful grunt, he loosened his hold enough for the mare to squirm free. She followed up by kicking her hind hooves into his midsection, knocking the wind out of him.

“Let that be a lesson to you, creep-Whoa!” Rainbow’s taunt was interrupted when the second negotiator swooped past in an overhead grabbing attempt as well. Despite picking up the pace, the blue daredevil heard them closing in on her again.

The bruised-nosed Lieutenant retracted his polarized lenses and angrily narrowed his eyes at the fugitive, reminding himself that he was ordered to bring her in alive, with nothing said about “uninjured”.

Losing his mike with the mask, he pantomimed at his wing-mate to switch to concussion strikes by smacking one forehoof into the other. The Sergeant nodded and settled into a parallel below the target while he circled in from the right. With bone-jarring velocity, they aimed a single hoof at Rainbow Dash’s head, but the sidewinder and uppercut barely missed their mark.

“Yow! Alright, that does it,” she growled. “The best defense is a good offense!”

The athletic Pegasus rocketed after the rising Sergeant, grabbing a hind leg and closing her wings, allowing herself to twist upside down and deliver a kick into the airman. Although successfully blocking the attack with a foreleg, the force caused them to rotate in space, bringing Rainbow on top of him.

Turning horizontally to face him, she threw punch after punch at his helmet and torso. Eventually the inertia gave out and the duo started to fall. Rainbow ceased the blows when she saw the mask-less Pegasus out of the corner of her eye, rapidly approaching to render aid. Holding onto the barely conscious Sergeant, she opened her wings to adjust their position and then cruelly pushed him into the Lieutenant’s path.

The Air Force Pegasi collided with each other and plummeted lifelessly towards the ground. The superior and least-injured officer recuperated, taking hold of his junior and retreated.

“She just took out two of our guys like it was nothing,” the earth pony Wing Commander mouthed tonelessly to himself as the aerial grapple unfolded from the perspective of his F-15. The triple-chirp indicator of an urgent transmission broke through his numbed state of mind, dragging his eyes down briefly to read it.

[INC-MES] PAFB_NORAD/ PRIORITY 1
>>MISSION UPDATE: USE OF DEADLY FORCE AUTHORIZED

Rainbow Dash watched as the humbled soldiers dipped back into the soup, which up ahead was dissipating and revealed the highway below. She continued along this course towards Vancouver, resolving to indulge no further distractions to her journey. Even still, a strange hissing noise that was coming up fast from behind drew an irritated look over her shoulder.

That agitation drowned in the terror that surged through every fiber at the missile that was closing the distance to impact. Scrambling to get out its way, the guiding fins spared her by inches and left her hacking on spent propellant. The warhead exploded soon after, throwing her out of the sky.

When the disorientation and ear-ringing subsided, the tomboy looked around for the F-15s she could now hear turning around for another pass. Several miles away, the fighters jointly breached through a cumulus curtain and launched 3 missiles between the two.

‘Oh, man, this is not good! I can’t dodge them forever, and there’s no hope in outrunning them!’ The spectrum-maned Pegasus panicked internally, scanning the vicinity for another option. All she could she were scattered storm clouds that were too small to hide in.

‘Wait, that’s it!’

She blasted off to the north with the guided weapons still after her. A bulky gray cloud was in her sights just below. Diving at exactly 45 degrees towards it, she stomped all four hooves into its topmost layer with tremendous force. The cloud began to shake and tendrils of electricity danced all around her feet.

The unnatural whistling from behind informed her that they were following the same diagonal vector. Rainbow Dash took flight once more and headed for the next set of clouds in her path. The projectiles were about to clear the destabilized storm cloud when it suddenly started clawing the air above with bolts of lightning, striking and detonating one. Like hopping on stepping stones, the athletic Pegasus rigged storm clouds to fire their reserve energy, eventually destroying the remaining two missiles.

With the F-15s closing in, Rainbow decided once again to switch tactics. She flew into the last gray cloud, cradling a soccer ball-sized portion of it in her forelegs as she exited. Condensing the fluffy matter into a cylindrical shape, she took a bite of the top and spit it out. Performing a complete about-face, she arched the makeshift grenade at one of the warplanes.

Upon contact, a powerful electrical flash blinded the pilot and overloaded critical components onboard. Trailing black smoke from one of its engines, the disabled plane turned back towards McChord field, while the remaining F-15 endeavored to cut Rainbow’s celebration, and life short with a searing hail of 20mm Vulcan fire.

With all other options expended, the Pegasus used all possible speed to get away from the lone hunter, much deadlier now without the fear of harming any wingmates. Rainbow screamed at the top of her lungs as the fighter jet hazardously came in close for several minutes as an effective intimidation tactic.

The F-15 peeled away from its target when instructed not to fire over a civilian population or interfere with local airport traffic. Figuring out that staying close to cities kept her out of danger, the blue daredevil hurriedly soared past the Seattle skyline, building more life-saving distance between herself and the crazed pilot behind the jet.

6:35 PM MST
Friday, January 7th, 2011
Peterson Air Force Base, Colorado, U.S.A.
North American Aerospace Defense Command - NORAD

The UFP's race north over Interstate 5 went largely unchallenged until she entered wooded clearings between Arlington and Mt. Vernon, coming under more gunfire and missile attacks, then again from Burlington to Bellingham. Upon reaching the last major border town, however, General Tacks relinquished that continuing the pursuit was no longer a U.S. option.

“Order that plane to disengage and hold position on the 49th parallel until Homeland Security can close the border to that UFP,” the American Commanding General decided.

“Yes, sir!” The US Colonel saluted and rushed to a phone. Brass Tacks turned his attention back on the satellite imagery on the main screen.

“She’s currently over southern Vancouver, so we can’t scramble our forces yet without provocation,” the Canadian Commanding General stated. “Public Safety’s been notified and is dispatching CBSA officers to process her.”

It makes no sense at all to surrender that easily. Was she aiming to embarrass us? Russia’s reportedly been tracking this fiasco out of Vandenberg and having an absolute field day.”

“You’ll be the ones to ask her within a few hours’ time. We’ll turn her over at the Blaine POE when we’re done with our paperwork,” Biting Bark assured his bilateral ally and friend.

5:38 PM PST
Friday, January 7th, 2011
Airborne over Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada
Searching for the DHX Media studio

Rainbow Dash impulsively looked over her shoulder, smiling in relief each time at the absence of any missiles or fighter jets bearing down on her. She was well across the border and in the city of Vancouver. There was no reason to believe any of that craziness would follow her here.

‘I can’t believe I made it. I almost bought the farm several times back there-‘

The farm reference reminded her of the grave injury she inflicted upon Applejack, and her rather rude departure from LAX. The broken and prone image of her costar burned her insides with guilt, yet left her shivering outwardly from the cold air. In hindsight, nobody really did blame her for oversleeping and missing the flight; only herself.

‘I’ve got some things to answer for when the others get here. But she still shouldn’t have ratted me out like that! She knew how much this episode meant! So if anypony has to apologize first, it’s going to be her!’

Confident with that assessment, she returned to her primary task of locating DHX’s main office in the city. Rainbow didn’t have the exact address, and the building wasn’t very unique, but she remembered the surrounding area well.

There was a nearby waterfront park facing Vancouver Bay, where she’d taken a well-deserved nap on the grass before the flight back to LA. Upon locating the park, she traced her steps down Main Street and Alexander, and found the six-story brown-and-blue office building that the studio was based out of.

The tomboy excitedly flew towards it, but was interdicted again by uniformed Pegasi; a colt and mare duo wearing dark blue raid jackets with white “CBSA-ASFC” lettering on either sleeve.

“Good afternoon, ma’am. On behalf of the Canada Border Services Agency, we welcome you to Vancouver,” the male officer said with a pleasant smile. “My partner and I represent the Inland Enforcement branch and would like to speak with you.”

“Ugh okay, fine,” Rainbow sighed, having already forgotten about the hassle of Customs she normally endures on each of these trips.

“Splendid. Now for official purposes, would you please state your name, and the nature of your business in Canada?” The colt asked while the mare had a pencil and notepad at the ready.

“The name’s Rainbow Dash. I’m a musician and TV actor from Los Angeles and I’m here for my job. I’m one of the stars on My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic that premiered in October.”

“M-My Little Pony? Based on the toys?” The female officer coughed out the pencil in surprise, catching it in her free hoof.

“Yeah. Check us out on the Hub channel on Fridays. It’s nothing like you’ve ever seen before, trust me,” Rainbow smiled, recognizing a fellow old-school fan of the franchise. She nodded back with intrigue before resuming to write notes.

“My daughter and I just might do that as well,” the male officer replied. “To continue, how did you arrive in this country today? Did you fly on a commercial carrier, or-?”

“Nah, I flew here on my own power. Good exercise and good for the planet.”

“All the way from California, did you? Very impressive, that takes a lot of endurance. Although given your lack of hand luggage, I was concerned that you might not be in possession of your passport.”

The rapport the officers had been building with Rainbow Dash deteriorated rapidly at the mention of a passport. It wouldn’t mattered even if she hadn’t cast off her backpack in LAX’s terminal, for such an important document was always kept safe by Mrs. Fyre-Flye until needed.

‘When she called my name as I went out the door, was really trying to stop me, or at least get me to take my passport with me?'

Regardless of the answer, she didn’t have it with her while being questioned by Customs, a fact that was causing her anxiety to grow yet again. The officers noticed the change in demeanor and attempted to calm her down.

“Miss Dash, is everything alright? Do you have your passport with you?”

“N-no, my producer has it! Back in LA! I got into a fight with one of my costars and completely forgot about it!”

“That is entirely understandable. Is there somepony here we can contact and verify your identity and employment?” The colt asked calmly.

The officers would later regret not registering two key points. The first was the DHX Media office below that she was seen flying towards. The second was that their words were no longer getting through Rainbow’s twitchy state.

‘I’m in trouble now! I see it in their eyes! What do they plan on doing with me?’

The tomboy’s mind was going rampant with increasing distrust of the officers’ intentions. Obeying basic survival instincts that took over, Rainbow Dash sped away down the Vancouver-Blaine highway.

The accumulating vehicle traffic in the thoroughfare’s southbound lanes indicated that she was getting close to the International Boundary. Within moments, the Peace Arch and Blaine Port of Entry were within sight. But it wasn’t freedom that met her at the crossing. It was instead a staggering display of force.

Ponies on the ground in green uniform shirts and baseball caps climbed out of white SUVs marked with a diagonal stripe and the words BORDER PATROL. Some pointed up at her, others had binoculars. Covering the aerial front was a black-and-yellow Black Hawk helicopter with a cadre of armed agents onboard. A trio of boats with flashing blue lights also converged from Semiahmoo Bay, making an escape over the water highly unappealing.

Rainbow’s paranoia went into overdrive with the perception that she was now unwelcome in her own country. Opting to go with the demonstrated lesser of two evils, she fled north from the fortified border into the heart of the province. Unbeknownst to her, CFB Comox on Vancouver Island had just dispatched two CF-18 fighter jets with clearance to engage by NORAD.

6:03 PM PST
Friday, January 7th, 2011
Airborne over the British Columbia province, Canada
Bearing north with no immediate destination

Snowflakes, the first wave of a mid-winter snowfall, dabbed Rainbow Dash’s entire body, obscuring her vision with pinpricks of exquisite pain. Flying through this condensed air took twice as much wing-power to maintain velocity. The unrelenting scream of the jet fighters in pursuit compounded her misery.

‘How did it ever come to this? It’s so cold; it almost makes me want to cry,’ the tomboy forsook all pride in that admittance while the fear of tears freezing against her face was her final restraint.

The sparkling emerald and white landscape blurred as time seemed to slow down, but the suspected first signs of hypothermia came with the strange benefit of making her senses more perceptive. A distinctive whirring was discernible through the jet engines, and the Pegasus delved into a tree-lined crevice in the mountains.

The CF-18 hornets loosed another volley of gunfire. 20mm rounds zipped by, acutely warping the air in their passage, pulverizing snow and soil and cracking wooden barks apart, engulfing her in splinters. Rainbow slowed down and allowed the fighters to overshoot her, which they promptly circled back for another attack run.

‘The U.S. Air Force’s got nothing on these guys. They shoot like they don’t care about taking me alive.’

They probably didn’t in all likelihood, and the sparse pony populations across this region lessened the chance of collateral damage; further encouragement in the application of lethal force.

Never inclined to learn about the Rules of Engagement until today, it was only a theory that she wouldn’t come under fire if she was over a town, but one that might hold the key to getting these vultures off her back for good.

Heart alight with this new hope, the reckless daredevil picked up speed again, ignoring the renewed strain on her muscles. The mountain range she headed towards was familiar only because she’d boringly gazed out the window every time during the secondary charter flight out of Vancouver airport, something she was now unequivocally grateful for.

Intersecting BC Highway 37 from a southeastern approach, she cleared Mount Edziza and its stunned campers. Along the Stikine River was the village of Telegraph Creek, where their charter would normally land in before the cast switched to 4X4s to reach the site.

‘Just a little bit farther and I’m home free,’ the spectrum-maned Pegasus proclaimed to herself in relief. A cascade of bursting ignitions from her 6 o’clock orientation brought fresh alarm to her iced consciousness. A glance at the disturbance revealed the extent of the CF-18s’ impatience in the form of over a dozen missiles.

“That’s- THAT’S CHEATING!!!” Rainbow Dash screamed once her gaping jaw became unstuck.

Although the warplanes had pulled back several miles to unleash their full arsenal, it would still be a matter of seconds before they caught up with her. Instead of folding to this latest hand, she went all in and at full throttle over the last series of cliffs into the secluded valley preceding Meszah Peak and the full-scale set of Ponyville.

Rainbow zoomed low and fast over the first outlying settlements, with a war’s worth of ordinance right on her heels. Crossing one of the bridges that spanned the snaking waterway, she banked a hard left around the town’s dual water/windmill, the first two missiles connecting with its base and blades and obliterating it utterly. In a single revolution encircling Town Hall, she drew the remaining projectiles into winding streets packed with houses and storefronts. Even when crashing into the ground, the explosive flash set ablaze the surrounding structures.

Many principal story locales suffered tremendous damage, including the Day Spa, Golden Oaks Library, Sugarcube Corner, Carousel Boutique, Ponyville Schoolhouse, and Sweet Apple Acres’ main barn. Fluttershy’s Cottage home was intently spared a flyover because of the many creatures that actually live on the premises.

With three missiles still chasing her, the reckless daredevil made a break for Mezsah Peak, arching upwards gradually until fully vertical against the mountainside. The guided weapons felt neither the pull of gravity nor the temperature, forces that were driving the Pegasus into indescribable agony, her exposed clenched teeth throbbing.

‘Now!’ she yelled at herself as the rugged cliff gave way to the foundation of Canterlot Castle. Rainbow corkscrewed around the outermost towers of the expansive set. The missiles failed to keep pace and collided into the structure, causing the cold, brittle connecting points of a large turret to fracture and tumble into the volcanic basin at the mountain’s foot.

Rainbow Dash shuddered at the echoing crash as the set piece shattered against rock. Far below, the Ponyville set looked like the scene of a disaster with red fires and shifting pillars of black smoke ravaging its once pristine and welcoming appearance.

‘I hope the fans never see this. This was the most horrible thing imaginable to happen today, bar none,’ the tomboy lamented with sincerity she never would’ve believed she was capable of. A rapidly cooling tear ran down her cheek at the thought of what might happen to the show, and what Mrs. Fyre-Flye and her coworkers would have to say.

The CF-18 jets roared past somewhere close by, interrupting Rainbow’s sorrow and reminding her that she wasn’t out of danger yet.

‘I did what I did to survive. I haven’t got the slightest clue why these jerks were after me,’ she began the monologue she intended to give to them in person.

‘I know I’ve ticked off a few ponies in my life, not least of all you guys, but nothing to this scale. From now on though, I promise you’re gonna be seeing a whole new Rainbow Dash, one that owns up to whatever she’s done. Nopony else will be hurting anymore because of me. And if these foals think they can stop the new me, then BRING. IT. ON!’

From day one, the Pegasus lived to take risks, but never with her life truly at stake before. The prospect was invigorating after all the perils she’s endured in one day; this time she chose to face death for something she believed in.

And what exactly that is she intends to share once she’s back on the American side of the border.

6:37 PM PST
Friday, January 7th, 2011
Airborne over the Yukon Territory, Canada
Bearing northwest towards the U.S.-Canada Border

The athletic Pegasus exited British Columbia with the CF-18s stubbornly trying to take her down, their pilots sensing perhaps the target’s newfound determination that drove her punished body onward.

“Punished” was a gross understatement at the stabbing torture that haunted every wing flap and every breath. The one tear she shed for the ruined Ponyville remained frozen on her cheek, a monument to the behavioral shift this whole misadventure had gifted her.

Through the flurry of a worsening snowstorm, she followed a series of lakes and YT Highway 1 as they curved to the west, building up speed as she did so. Rainbow could almost feel the ice creeping up both sets of legs towards her vitals. Saliva and mucus running from her mouth and nose crackled into solid form. Mini icicles crystalized on her eyelashes.

‘Gonna make it. Gonna get back to America and leave these guys in the dust,’ she thought slowly, focusing every last bit of power into flying.

A cone of aerial resistance and static electricity was starting to build around her, deflecting any further snowfall on her. As she squeezed her eyes shut for the final push, she caught a glimpse of a small town in the distance. The fighters’ jet noise was finally lost in the encompassing resistance that tugged at every frozen joint.

Suddenly, resistance was gone. Noise was gone. Even cold was gone. Every source of bodily torment ceased to exist as Rainbow Dash went supersonic over the Yukon, parting the storm in her wake and entering Alaska, where her momentum had at last faltered, leading her to crash into the snow.

8:05 PM MST
Friday, January 7th, 2011
Peterson Air Force Base, Colorado, U.S.A.
North American Aerospace Defense Command - NORAD

“The target is down, I repeat, target is down on U.S. soil-“

“There was some strange atmospheric interference earlier, but we now have her exact position on the sat feed. Coordinates are-“

“Yes, you heard me right, sir; it was an ‘Unidentified Flying Pony’. We need Army search and rescue teams to deploy immediately from Elmendorf-Richardson-“

“With all due respect, Major, snow doesn’t concern NORAD. If the weather doesn’t permit helicopters, then have your men on snowmobiles. Otherwise, you’ll have to explain in court why a Priority-1 target was allowed to expire-“

Soldiers at every station were busy liaising with multiple components of the armed forces while Brass Tacks studied the main screen, the spy satellite transmitting a snowfall-distorted image of the downed UFP, lying in a forested alcove of the expansive Wrangell-Saint Elias National Park and Preserve that straddled the Alaska-Yukon border.

“Name: Rainbow Dash - Actor on a new My Little Pony TV series. You have got to be kidding,” Biting Bark was reading off a copy of the CBSA officers’ report, stunned beyond all belief.

“They’re joking. They’re joking, right? Tell me so I can have them fired and be done with this madness.”

His aide sat upright on his haunches, holding his forelegs up helplessly, frightened to give any sort of answer.

“Let it go, Bark. That’s one tree you don’t want to go biting up,” his American counterpart deliberately added fuel to the fire with a poorly disguised chuckle.

“And your quip’s about as tacky as the first day I took command,”

“You’re right. I meant to say you were chasing a red herring. On the bright side, her production company has confirmed that the village and castle were uninhabited when the missiles hit. I’ve got both civil, military delays, and a couple injured airmen to address.”

“A promise is a promise. The ball’s in your court anyway, so she’s all yours,” the Canadian Commanding General noted respectfully while holding a foreleg out for a hoofshake.

“Much obliged, partner,” General Tacks accepted both acts of goodwill, walking out together from the control room in the process of shutting down and being vacated at the resolution of the crisis.

INCIDENT EPILOGUE

Rainbow Dash was saved from the sub-arctic tundra and treated for multiple injuries, under heavy guard, at Fort Richardson’s Medical Department. A review of the case by Justice Department and Military prosecutors decided that she should be tried under civilian statutes.

On January 10th, a 3d Wing C-130 Hercules brought her back to Southern California, where custody was transferred to LA County Sheriffs on the LAX tarmac. A waiting ambulance brought Rainbow to the county general hospital where she was to finish her recovery before the preliminary trial hearing. Mrs. Fyre-Flye, and the defense lawyer she hired, petitioned to allow visitors, namely her costars. It was then that a heartfelt apology was made by Rainbow Dash, and accepted by Applejack, who still had bandages wrapped around her head.

A list of federal aviation, espionage, and immigration charges were read from an indictment on January 15th, Rainbow’s first day in court. In following sessions, the spying and smuggling allegations were fiercely contested and dropped due to lack of evidence. A surprising factor that came into the tomboy’s favor was the granddaughter of the presiding judge, who turned out to be a big fan of hers and threatened never to speak to him again if he sent her hero to jail.

In the end, all criminal counts were dismissed in favor of civil penalties, beginning with substantial restitution to the FAA, LAWA, and affected airlines. Rainbow Dash was sentenced to a year-long probation against unauthorized flying within the continental U.S., enforced by supervised release through various agencies.

The Delta-IV Heavy rocket, and its USA-224 satellite payload, was successfully launched from Vandenberg’s Space Launch Complex-6 on January 20th. Any mention of the prior failed attempt was erased from official records.

Canada’s Department of National Defence admitted fault at the destruction its pilots wreaked on the Ponyville and Canterlot sets, compensating DHX Media for the reconstruction costs.

The Fall Weather Friends episode was delayed a full three weeks, airing instead on January 28th. The “Iron Pony” competition and subsequent “Running of the Leaves” marathon were supposed to take place within Ponyville locales that now lay in shambles, thus prompting the writers to set the events in outlying wooded areas.

The CBC network’s January 8th broadcast started with a report that a miracle that occurred yesterday over the town of Whitehorse in the Yukon. A tremendous sonic boom shattered the solitude. While the source was unknown, it left behind a brilliant sparking rainbow trail. The multi-colored band of light permeated into a snowstorm that rolled into the area, saturating the entire formation in its vibrant spectrum. The snow that fell carried those colors down to earth, much to the delight of Whitehorse’s residents.

The report billed the phenomenon as “Rainbow Snow”.

10:58 AM PST (T-minus 00:37 hours until departure)
Saturday, January 7th, 2012
Los Angeles International Airport, California, U.S.A.
Terminal 2 Interior

“I can’t believe it. That didn’t sound like the Rainbow Dash I know today. She’s never been mean to me,” Derpy said, looking back and forth between Mrs. Fyre-Flye and Rainbow Dash as the incident flashback drew to a close.

“That’s how she was back then, and her ego was even worse during filming sessions, like she was the lead star and director all rolled into one,” Applejack contributed when the primary two stayed silent.

“She went on that crazy trip to try and prove that she always gets her way, stirring up a world of trouble that could’ve easily had her killed or imprisoned. Hasbro almost fired her for leaking the Sonic Rainboom, but reconsidered because she was too dang important for Fall Weather Friends; nopony else could’ve taken her place.”

“We get it, Applejack! I acted like a spoiled brat and screwed up big time last year!” Rainbow Dash shouted at last after minutes of quiet sulking.

“I too spent the weekend strapped in a hospital bed, practically at gunpoint! Those court appearances were no fun either! And what about the negative publicity from constant police escorts, huh?! And now I’ve got this freshly annoying FBI agent on my case!”

The blue daredevil nudged her head at the trench coat-wearing mare, leaning against a nearby wall and reading a newspaper. Upon the graceless mention, she looked up from the paper barrier, pointing a hoof at her eyes and swerving it at her in a classic “I’m watching you” sign. Rainbow dutifully rolled her eyes and shook her head in full view of the agent.

“Was my apology not good enough either, the one I faced certain death for?” she concluded with tears welling up in her eyes.

The farmer was abruptly having a flashback of her own: Rainbow’s pitiful condition at LA County General, hoofcuffed to her bed. As the overseeing Sheriffs wrapped up the cast members’ visit, she’d pleaded for a moment of privacy between the two of them. Holding up a hoof, tagged with an IV tube and the chilling metal shackle around it, the tomboy openly cried as she said she was sorry for everything she’d said and done that day. Applejack, in spite of the lingering pain from the kick, acknowledged her own wrongdoing to embrace her friend, shedding tears as well on her friend’s shoulder.

The touching scene was playing out before everyone else as the Stetson-crowned mare reflexively hugged the spectrum-maned Pegasus. Mrs. Fyre-Flye and the remaining cast members displayed their approval in a thunderous round of applause and almost missing a crucial broadcast over the intercom.

“Attention fillies and gentlecolts, Air Canada will begin pre-boarding flight #553 to Vancouver in five minutes. All ticketed and confirmed passengers must report to gate 24 at this time. Thank you.”

Comments

[Production Run]

I'm not entirely sure how one can go supersonic when about to pass out from several hours of flying from Los Angeles to Alaska after nearly being sucked into a 747's engine and having been pursued by fighter jets for the better part of the trip.

[FestOfAmerican]

2191339

You brought up some pretty good points there.

Although the journey lasted nearly 4 hours, I implied through writing at least once that she glided to preserve stamina. The first chase by the American F-15s didn't begin until she was between Portland and the Washington state line. Once crossing into Canada, she did have a good 25 minutes to catch her breath before wigging out about the missing passport and fleeing into the BC wilderness.

Perhaps it's a pacing issue. Sometimes I become so enamored with details, depicting settings and events as realistic as possible, that it slows the narrative down. I also push myself to meet release dates that are significant to me, but I can always go back and refine it a bit.

I'm honored that you continued to follow this story until Chapter 3's release. Errors aside, I hope it lived up to your expectations from the teaser pictures, created and posted an embarrassingly long time ago. *laughs*