Silly Song of Silver Snow

by I Thought I Was Toast

Piece the 1st: Prelude of Peers and Peering

Three little fillies stood upon a hill, looking out on Ponyville.
They stamped the ground, looking all around, but not a flake of snow was found.
And none was planned tomorrow.

“No snow!” The orange one cried in rage.
“How could they be so stupid? So stupid that they didn’t know,”
“How much water we’d need for our very precious snow?”
“There will be war to wage!”

“Now, Scootaloo,” the white one chimed, her voice was sweet and oh so fine,
“You cannot whine and pine all of the time,”
“Unless you have some to borrow.”

“We have things to do, and plans to see.”
“We can’t control the weather.”
“Even if we actually could, we seem to lack the feathers.”
“There is no remedy.”

Scootaloo wouldn’t take her answer straight, and she seemed to want to ask her,
‘What do you call these things?’
‘I most definitely have wings.’
Instead she shouted at her friend, as if yelling would make them grow faster.

“Don’t say that I’m a stupid pine!” she said,
For trees were always grounded.
“Are you looking to be pounded?”
She roared, as her face became beet red.

“Enough y’all!” the yellow one drawled, before one friend made the other one sprawled.
“We have a job to do. Now, be quiet, both of you.”
“It’s time to go crusadin’, and there’s little time remainin’.”

“But that’s just it! Don’t you see?”
Scootaloo’s voice rang with annoyance,
Yet still her spirits had a certain buoyance.
“We have no reason to complaining at this opportunity!”

Applebloom looked quizzical.
Sweetie Belle questioned whether that was really wise.
Scootaloo merely rolled her eyes.
It’s not like this was impossible, or impulsive, or whimsical.

“Why shouldn’t we build snow,” the pegasus said.
“Don’t tell me that you all are chicken.”
“Don’t tell me, when something tough comes up, you’ll always end up ditchin’.”
“Crusaders never give up, so get those doubts out of your head!”

“Everypony is whining about this very awful timing.”
“We pretend we’re all fine, having dinner, dancing, dining, and singing songs while rhyming,”
“But it bothers us all the same.”

Scootaloo took a breath before continuing.
“We can not let this stand! There shall be snow, I say, tomorrow!”
“We will build it all ourselves to end our friends little sorrows.”
Just like that. It seemed as if the crusaders were never arguing.

The three felt glee replacing misery, as they hatched a plan in mystery.
How to make it snow by tomorrow? They couldn’t know. How much joy they were going to sow.
It was such a wonderful game.