It's up to Golden Gates to put the changelings in their place, in this tale of a ridiculous romp through San Francisco.
Pony conventions are a great gathering place for bronies - love and tolerance everywhere! So much delicious emotion is a prime target for Changelings. So when the villainous love-suckers invade Earth, there's just one pony to turn to.
It's up to Golden Gates to put the invaders in their place, in this tale of a ridiculous romp through San Francisco.
The scene was like something from a disaster movie; a cheery, kid-centric one. Small infernos burned among the rubble, accented tastefully with colorful hues and the stunning decorations from the remains of a convention hosted in honor of a cartoon.
The elevator doors at the far end of the convention hall slid open, disgorging a herd of angry people to an accompaniment of muzak.
They were all various states of dishevelment. Slime, dirt, and torn clothing were the norm. The people were the convention staff, and they were rightfully pissed that the event had already gone so horribly wrong.
Of course, it wasn’t directly their fault. Planning for a changeling invasion was not on a typical checklist when organizing a convention. Having fictional creatures from an animated show suddenly show up in real life was highly unusual, even for a colorful city like San Francisco.
As the easy-listening elevator music continued, the staff spread out, taking in the scattered debris, broken windows, and smoldering remains of what was supposed to be their pride and joy. The damage was incredible. There was no way they were getting the rental deposit back. However, as the team that put together this wondrous event, it was their duty to fix what had been destroyed. This unwelcome party crashing by these out-of-worldly hooligans wouldn’t go unanswered.
Sonya turned, facing the group. They were a varied and sorry lot, but all of them were dedicated to the cause. They stopped, staring at their leader. She grabbed the staff badge that hung around her neck and held it up. “Does everyone have their badges?”
They all responded in kind, holding their proof of authority and mildly above average competency up like a salute.
She nodded with satisfaction. “All right. I think we know what needs to be done here.”
“Kick ass!” someone called.
“With class!” another added.
Sonya nodded, a grin coming to her face. “Fair enough. Love, tolerance, and badass. Someone needs to take care of this and it might as well be us. I don’t care what staff department you are in, I don’t care what problems you’ve had so far today, I don’t even care what you think about Twilicorn so long as you go out there and kick those flankmunching sons of bucks outta here.
“If you need me, I’ll be in the lead.” Sonya turned and started forward, heading towards the fray. “Let’s do this!”
At 4:37 AM, Thursday, April 17th, a magnitude 4.8 earthquake struck San Francisco. There were no deaths; in fact, within the roughly half minute span of the shaking, the population increased by fifty nine. None of them were human.
“Okay everyling, we practiced this. Don’t panic,” Doitchlesmitty addressed the crowd of newly arrived changelings.
“Auuughhh! The voices! Where are the voices in my head? They’re all… gone!” Raxelflarmic writhed on the ground, clutching hands to her head in confused agony.
Doitchlesmitty looked on with a concerned face. All around him, other changelings were in similar, albeit less melodramatic states of distress. “You guys were briefed on what to expect once you arrived at Earth, right?
“I can’t remember! I stored all that in the hive’s briefing folder! I didn’t save it into my head! But I can’t access anything now!” squealed another.
Doitchlesmitty facepalmed for the first of many times that day. “You guys didn’t download the briefing?”
Slexordoofcoff responded weakly, “We stored it to the cloud! That’s what we always do!”
“You idiots! Did you even read the instructions? Earth has no inherent background magic! THE HIVE MIND DOESN’T WORK HERE!”
Doitchlesmitty grumbled and then spoke in a louder voice to address the whole crowd. “All of you, remember, this is a STEALTH operation. We are in the enemy territory, and unlike the Equestrians, this species will blow shit up. So please, nothing stupid, nothing violent, and DEFINITELY nothing fatal.”
A hoof, newly disguised as a hand, went up.
Doitchlesmitty sighed. “Yes, Karlmarximillion, you have a question?”
“How about throat slitting? Can we do that?”
The leader facehoofedpalmed. “Really, Karl? No, You may NOT slit any throats. That kills people, and the last thing we want is a body count.” Sigh. “Anyone else?”
“No? Good. Let’s go run a con.”
***
A mild spring breeze blew over the imposing hotel, and upon it fluttered a pair of wings. The equine figure lit upon a decorative railing on the fifth floor, undetected by the occupants of the room it served. She rapped gently on the window, and a surprised changeling looked up from the bed where it sat reading a Gideon Bible. The changeling walked over and unlatched the window, sliding it open.
The pony on the outside nodded. “Globbentok, narmply flus vlox. Flugersmite los vrempertsnatch.”
“V-v-vrempert… snatch?!” the changing asked, shivering, and not at all from the cool wind blowing in.
Again, the mysterious pony nodded. “Vrempert dos ewester blooktrent, granderboque elmo frewertize sa mojklop fre breventrock; sa mojklop bertem elstremptic wroot!”
At this, the ‘ling in the room quickly worked to pry out the mesh window guard, and allowed the other pony in.
“Dreit, Dustimalposector,” the stranger said, unceremoniously depositing her saddlebags on the floor. The thanked changeling smiled and turned away from the visitor to resume reading the funny human faerie tales this “Bible of Gideon” held. She never got a chance, because at this point the visitor snapped her neck.
Dustimalposector flopped to the floor, paralyzed, and Golden Gates brushed her hooves off. The first downed minion always felt good. She took in her surroundings. It was a fairly small overpriced hotel room with two empty beds. She and the broken changeling appeared to the only occupants. Trotting over to the bathroom, Golden peeked in cautiously, but it was also empty. Golden scrunched her face up: she could have sworn this was the right… Pausing her train of thought, she flicked her ears up, detecting a faint noise beneath the steadfast hum of the air conditioner: “zzzzzzz.” But of course, she should check the closet.
Carefully, the pegasus slid open the folding closet door, and grimaced deeply at the sight before her. On the floor, a changeling was peacefully slumbering, hugging her favorite stuffed gila monster plushie. Above her, four humans were crammed into gooey chrysalises suspended from the clothing rack. Above that was an iron and some extra pillows, but those did not concern her. Golden sighed. She would have to dispose of this changeling, it being a mortal enemy and all. She carefully lifted the sleeping creature with her wings and trotted over to the window, where she quickly calculated a trajectory and gave a mighty heave. Around five seconds later, Zezzlefrumptimp found herself sputtering in the cold waters of the ‘Frisco Bay.
Golden Gates nonchalantly locked the window and drew closed the blinds. She sauntered over to the door to the hallway and deadbolted it. Despite the direness of the situation, she found herself humming a catchy tune as she walked back to the open closet. Scanning the four cocooned occupants, she found the one she sought. Leaning her head against it, she scrunched her face in concentration, feeling the sweet embrace of oblivion over take her. She fell limp, a creepy smile upon her face. Time for some dream surfing.
***
When the mare came to, she found herself still lying on the floor next to the closet. However, there was a distinct lack of cocoons present, so she figured she was in the dream. Looking over at an digital clock, she found the crimson numerals to be spelling out “TOAST”
“Yep, definitely dreaming,” she muttered. On the floor were two people in sleeping bags with one more in each of the two twin-sized beds. Golden looked over at the human nearest the window. “Sonya, at last we meet,” she announced dramatically. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this moment. Specifically, about nine hours.” At this, she slammed her own head against Sonya’s, and the world again went black.
Golden stepped through a red door, into a banana factory. Everywhere about her, green and orange piston, gears, crankshafts, convey belts--the whole works-- were sliding, spinning, whirling, and other verbs as they went about constructing bananas. A bizarre remix of “Staying Alive”, with Nicki Minaj on lead vocals, was playing in the background. The pony trotted along the observation platform above the hot mess, which eventually began to melt, turning into a waterslide which deposited Golden into a faux-’70s German porn dungeon. Golden rolled her eyes. Humans and their kinks--so tame and predictable. She found Sonya about to partake in unsavory acts, and politely tapped her on the shoulder.
The heavyset woman in a Twilight Sparkle costume turned around and bumped into a small yellow pegasus with flowing neon blue, magenta, and orange hair. “Uh… hi?”
“Hello Sonya. I’m Golden Gates, and I’m here to save your ass.”
For the record, that could either be literally or figuratively.
Several dream minutes later, Golden and Sonya found themselves walking through an industrial-scale rainbow factory in the smog high above Beijing.
“So you’re saying ‘blah’?”
“Yeah, blah blah blah exposition!”
Sonya shook her head. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Well yeah,” agreed Golden. “But life’s that way.”
Sonya paused and considered it. “I suppose you’re right. Oh hey look, it’s the hotel!”
The two of them stepped off a convenient cloud and through the open window of Sonya’s room in the San Francisco Airport Hyatt Hotel and Convention Center.
Sonya could see herself in bed, with other staff members surrounding her. “Woah, I’m sleeping huh?”
“You’re dreaming,” Golden told her. “You should really wake up.”
Sonya shrugged. “But I need my sleep.”
“Trust me, this is important,” Golden urged.
“Well, okay.” Sonya took a few steps towards her bed and then leaped into the air like a child, falling backwards on the mattress and into her body.
There was a rush of blood to the head, and blur of colors, some of which resembled the smog of a Chinese rainbow factory. Sonya’s eyes snapped open to find herself in bed, again. The alarm clock showed a quarter after TOAST in the morning.
The room was dark. Sonya sat up and blinked blearily. To her surprise, there was still a pony in the room. “Oh, hello, friend. Fancy seeing you here.”
“Yeah, hello again,” said Golden. “Now you have to get up. We have work to do.”
Sonya swung her feet over the edge of the bed and got up. “So early?”
“We need to get a head start on things.” Golden opened the room’s door and beckoned. “Come on.”
The light behind the doorway was bright and Sonya hesitated. “What’s that?”
“It’s another dream. We have to do this a certain way,” Golden replied. “It has to be plausible.”
“What do you know about it?” Sonya asked.
“Trust me. I’m a magical pony from the land of Equestria. This is super important and we need to go do some covert ops. And stuff.”
Sonya shrugged. “Okay.” She stepped through the door.
(begin covert ops)
[covert opsing internally]
[covert opsing intensifies]
***
The earthquake had been strong enough to wake most of the city, which included the staff of the Bay Area Brony Spectacular Convention. BABSCon, as it was easier to say, was due to kick off Friday, April 18.
The last thing the convention needed was to have anything damaged, so it was a stroke of good luck when the staff arrived at the hotel convention hall that day morning to find that nothing was severely out of place from the earthquake. They had all contributed too much blood, sweat, tears, bile, and other less pleasant bodily fluids for the spectacle to be delayed.
It was quarter past toast in the morning when the staff began to fan out to their various meeting halls and appointed locations. Some of the ‘top brass’ stayed behind to discuss some last-minute dealings about the convention.
“Everything’s going as planned. Wonderful!” Sonya, the ecstatic leader, examined the preparations each of the departments had made. Closest to her was the Operations component of the staff, making their way to the front of the hotel to begin setting up the pre-registration station.
“And ahead of schedule too!” one of the Operations members chimed proudly as he set down a folding table just shy of the hotel’s revolving door. Sonya smiled with satisfaction. Whatever doubt she had about pre-day going wrong disappeared like the fog over the Golden Gate.
Everything was coming together nicely. The staff worked in perfect coordination with one another. Each of the halls were beginning to resemble what the events staff had precariously planned weeks ahead of time. Sonya couldn’t be any prouder of her underlings. Now, it was time for her to fulfill her part of the preparations, which was to set up the conference room to discuss any overlooked details of the con.
Getting into the elevator, Sonya pushed the button for the eighth floor. The doors closed, leaving her alone with background music for the ride upwards. Where did elevator music come from, anyway? Nobody had ever heard of a Top 40 in muzak before.
Easy listening tunes aside, Sonya had a job to do. The staff conference room was on the eighth floor. After getting off the elevator, she headed down the hallway to unlock the door and get everything ready for the upcoming meeting. It was important that the staff come together and have a discussion in case there was anything that needed to be brought up.
The door clicked open with Sonya’s key, and she flipped the lights on as she stepped into the room. In the next instant, she stopped as suddenly as if there was an invisible force field in the doorway. On the conference room table, sound asleep, was a pony.
The pegasus mare had a butterscotch coat with a mane of blue, magenta, and orange. On her hip was a gold nugget cutie mark. Sonya stared, her mouth slowly slipping open at the living, breathing cartoon character that had suddenly appeared in a decidedly non-animated world. Even more surprising, she knew the pony’s name. This was Golden Gates, the mascot created for BABSCon. Sonya would know her anywhere, particularly since she’d designed Golden. Oh, and met her in her hotel room earlier. But that was when she was dreaming. She was clearly not dreaming now. Right? She held up her hand. Six fingers - looks normal.
The pony’s wings fluttered slightly and she blinked herself awake. Her eyes focused on the door, on Sonya.
“Hey! How are you? I guess I haven’t had time to formally introduce myself. I’m Golden Gates!” Grinning, she leaped up from her sleeping position and shot off the table.
Sonya jerked back and slammed the door. There was a heavy thump from the other side. A long second passed, then a voice demanded, “Hey, what’s the big idea?”
The door rattled, handle turning. Sonya backed away. Clever girl; she knows how to open doors!
The conference room door swung open, revealing Golden, who was rubbing her nose in pain. She stared at Sonya. “That hurt.”
“S...Sorry.”
Golden waved a hoof. “It’s cool. Just watch out, okay?”
She took a few steps out into the hallway and glanced left and right, appreciating the hotel. “Wow, swank place. How much does a pad like this set you back?”
Sonya did not reply. Golden turned her head and raised an eyebrow. “English, do you speak it?”
“I know we talked earlier, but you aren’t real,” Sonya blurted. “You came from my imagination.”
Golden sighed heavily. “Oh, it’s going to be one of those days. Look lady, I don’t know what corner of spacetime you come from, but just because you say it doesn’t make it so. I’m here, and no amount of psychotic self-denial is going to change that.”
“But…” Sonya shook her head. “But I created you. In my mind. You’re supposed to be a cartoon. Well, I suppose it’s possible that we’re in some sort of parallel universe and are figments of each other’s imagination, but this is far too lucid to be a dream or even a hallucination.”
Golden considered that, rubbing a hoof on her chin. She shrugged. “One way to be sure. I want to touch you.”
Sonya flattened herself against the wall as the pony stepped closer. Unheeding, Golden raised a hoof and brought it closer and closer. Sonya’s reaction was to try and escape, but barring that she slid down the wall and attempted to make herself smaller.
Golden’s hoof came to rest on top her head and she stroked Sonya’s hair. The pony grinned. “Wow, you’re really soft. Boop!”
Sonya stopped. Realizing she was in no danger, she gathered her wits and asked, “Can I touch you?”
Golden shrugged. “Fair is fair.”
Sonya reached up, her fingertips making contact with Golden’s cheek. She, too, was soft. Sonya moved her fingers lower, stroking down Golden’s neck to her withers. As Sonya’s fingers moved to her back, Golden’s wings suddenly popped open and her whole body went stiff.
“Gah…! Ah, um, my…” Golden’s cheeks turned pink.
“Wingboner?” Sonya asked.
Golden gave her a look. “You say you dreamed me up. Does that mean you knew that would happen?”
“Well, I…”
“Do you have a special spot? Let me see. Fair is fair.” Golden’s hooves shot forward as Sonya tried to block. The two of them fell to the floor in a tangle of flailing limbs and invaded personal space. Seconds passed as they grappled, eventually reaching a stalemate.
“Sorry, I never caught your name,” said Golden. “When I get this close to someone, I’d at least like to know who it is.”
“Sonya.”
Golden nodded.
Sonya gulped. “Um...truce?”
“Sure,” Golden allowed.
They slowly disentangled themselves. Golden brushed herself off and glanced at Sonya. “You know, you’re pretty good at that. I’d almost think you have experience wrestling with mares.”
“Well, in a manner of speaking,” Sonya admitted.
Golden gave her a conspiratorial grin. “Did you enjoy it? I know I did.”
Not willing to confirm or deny, Sonya quickly got up. It was only now that she remembered the impending conference, and instead of setting up the room she had been...wrestling. “Quick, I need your help.”
“For what?” Golden questioned as Sonya disappeared behind the conference room’s catering cabinet. She popped her head back over the counter and nodded to the chairs that were stacked near the room’s lone window.
“Start setting up those chairs in a circle, and I’ll handle the foodstuffs,” Sonya aired with newfound confidence as she dove back under the cabinet. Golden nodded and turned to the chairs, but instead found herself trotting towards the view out the window. Her pupils tripled in size.
The hotel’s courtyard looked amazing with the masterfully placed trees alone, but she could see small hordes of other creatures that had a similar resemblance to her new friend. “Wow…”
“Get that flank into gear. We don’t have all day.” Sonya was placing down cups, pitchers and a coffee pot for the staff to have a relaxing drink. There was nothing like ice-cold water or a warm cup of joe to be had over the friendly chit-chat of fellow workers. However, it took a moment for her words to click inside Golden’s head.
“Oh! R-Right!” Golden’s cheeks flushed a light pink as she brought her attention to the chairs. Every once in a while, Sonya would look up from the drinks and snacks to see more and more of the circle being formed. Even with the circumstances of just meeting, she found solace in the fact that she and the pony cooperated so well with one another.
With the counter fully stocked for the possibly-ravenous staff, Sonya pulled out a bag from underneath the counter and slid it into the middle of the room. “What’s in the bag?” Golden asked with curious, innocent eyes, “A shark or something?”
Sonya couldn’t help but get a chuckle out of that, and soon enough, the both of them were clutching their guts from all the snorting and giggling. “Geez, Goldy. I never took you as a-”
“Pony who watches movies?” Golden smirked playfully. Sonya shook her head and smiled. She hadn’t expected to be this close to a pony in, well… Forever!
“It’s as if we finish each other’s-”
“Drum solos!” Golden squealed. The pegasus’ back found a new home on the carpet as she rolled on the floor laughing. Sonya’s smile still stood.
“Yep, you sure are a quirky pony, aren’t you?” She giggled. While her friend recuperated herself, Sonya opened up the bag and pulled out an expertly crafted banner made just for the convention. BABSCon 2014! She was so proud to see this banner come out of its shell. But she couldn’t be more proud of her fellow staff members that made this day possible.
Hanging the banner was another matter. The ceiling tiles were too high to reach. Sonya called Golden over. “Give me some help.”
Sonya started to climb onto Golden’s back but the pony stepped aside. “What are you doing? I’m way lighter than you!”
“Really?” Sonya shrugged. “If you say so.”
Golden took the banner in her mouth and awkwardly clambered onto Sonya’s shoulders. She might have been lighter, but that still didn’t make her easy to hold. Sonya struggled to stay upright.
Golden pinned one end of the banner to the ceiling. “Okay, now for the other side!”
Sonya turned to struggle her way across the room as Golden’s hind legs tightened around her neck to keep the pegasus upright. However, before they could finish hanging the banner, The conference room door opened and the other staff members poured in.
There was a sudden traffic jam with everyone piling up at the door at the sight of a pony riding a person. For a long moment, no one spoke, only trading wide-eyed stares.
Just then, Sonya’s knees finally buckled, and she tumbled backwards. Golden slipped off and spread her wings, catching herself in a hover before hitting the floor.
Sonya groaned and picked herself up, throwing Golden a dirty look. “If you can fly, why was I carrying you in the first place?”
Golden blushed. “Uh…”
“Wait, what is going on here?” demanded Motoko.
Chapter Two- "Check your watches; they all say ‘toast thirty’"
“So, um, this is Golden Gates.” Sonya gestured at the pegasus.
“Hya everpony! Er, everyone. Heh.”
The rest of the staff members stared in disbelief, baffled by the highly unusual occurrence.
“It’s like none of you have seen a pony before,” Golden huffed. “Aren’t you bronies?”
Gawks accented the silence as Sonya rubbed the back of her neck nervously, followed by a few nods of the people that’d actually understood that Golden was speaking English.
“Geez, Sonya. You didn’t tell me you had such an impressionable lot.” Golden shook her head. “Do you guys not believe your eyes?”
The staff members in the front of the pack backed away as the clearly corporeal pegasus approached them, given one person who sported a naval warfare bottom and a green shirt marked with the letters “USMC” upon the chest. His eyebrow arched as she approached, but he stood his ground. Curiosity had the better of him.
“Go ahead. Touch me.” Golden urged the staff member by presenting her mane to him. “I can assure you that this is indeed true.”
A cautious hand started its descent from his side, the watchful eyes of a good twenty-plus staff members making the situation more pretentious than it needed to be.
“Can you guys seriously- I can’t even.” His hand patted on Golden’s mane as he turned to look at the bewildered members of his crew. “This is a pony. She’s super-soft. Get a grip.” She squeed in sync with his report, and the staff finally looked to have let their guard down. In a wave of bodies, the pegasus and the staff member were consumed.
“Take it easy guys!” Sonya called out as she tried to break her way into the center of the mob. “We don’t want to squish her, do we?”
“This ain’t nothing!” Golden giggled. Sonya could clearly tell she liked being the center of attention. “But there’s something I need to show you guys.”
The congregation dispersed as she unfurled her wings, beating back enough room for her to exit the room without a hitch. Sonya made a snide comment about the banner and her winged capabilities, but she followed after her, leading the pack of members as they went off toward one of the corners of the hotel.
“Since none of you have wings, we’ll need to take the elevators.” Golden maneuvered through the multiple corridors that all led to the ring of elevators on the airport-side of the hotel.
“Where are you taking us?” Sonya demanded calmly. The last thing she wanted to do was be on the bad side of her loyal staff members.
“The main hall,” Golden chimed. “But we’ll need everyone there if it’s going to be a real surprise.”
Sonya looked around her. Low whispers and gasps filled the ranks of staff members as they entered the small rotunda of six elevators. Suspicious as it was, maybe she should trust just a little more. One button lit up out of the six around the room. The result was comical.
Watching about thirty different bodies trying to cram into a clown car would’ve been even more hilarious, but an elevator car would have to do. Sonya’s only option was to start pulling people out and giving Golden the room she need to comfortably stand inside. “Geez, people…”
“I think it’s cute,” Golden giggled as she was finally able to turn around inside the car. Seven others were able to keep themselves inside with one spot for Sonya to ride down with the pegasus. Reluctantly, the staff members left outside didn’t fall to natural instinct and fight their way into the box and instead found their own elevators to head down to the atrium.
“S-So what is this about?” Another staff member piped up from beside Golden. The mare shook her head.
“Don’t you guys know what a surprise is?”
Sonya clenched the bridge of her nose and patiently waited for the elevator to reach the lobby floor. Or rather, patience really wasn’t on her side. “So who are we needing to gather up again?”
“Everybody. All the VIPs, the rest of the staff, and whoever else is playing an important role in all of this.” Golden nudged her way to Sonya’s side, and by chance, the door opened to the lobby floor. The elevator vacated and the few members found themselves back in the midst of convention preparations and gleams of hopeful wishes for the success of it all.
Golden cantered off toward the front of the hotel, a slight left from where the elevators began their runs. Sonya and the seven others followed close behind, surprised that she would freely display her presence to both the volunteers and public alike. The other section of staff that’d gone upstairs were catching back up to the leading group.
“Are you sure about waltzing around the hotel like this?” Sonya whispered harshly to the pegasus who could’ve given three bucks about the situation. She seemed to be enjoying herself, as if flaunting the fact that she was a real, live pony was the most innocent thing in the world.
“Oh, calm down,” Golden huffed as they passed by help desk and turned right to head into the depths of the lobby’s many halls. She was playing her pony card well, garnering the attention of bronies as they made their way to Hall of the Royal Pony Sisters. Sonya was surprised that the mare even knew where the main hall was.
The commotion of staffers and the musical quintet situated in the atrium above left Golden unphased as the group behind her followed the mare to the main hall of the convention center. By now, most of the VIPs and special guests had joined the march of pony fans, wondering what in the world had caused such a stir-up in the pre-Con preparations. Said crowd began to flood into the main hall, where Golden had dashed up to the podium and cleared her throat. The A/V’s job of handling the sound system was impeccable, right down to the point that they could hear the rustle in the pegasus’ feathers.
The eyes of the congregation looked upon Golden intently; some in attention. others in awe as they realized there was a live pony among them. A few coughs were heard here and there, but the room was surprisingly quiet enough that she could begin unraveling what she’d promised to show them back in the conference room.
“Good morning class. I’m sorry that this wasn’t on the convention schedule,” she started off, smiling like her normal self. The room held its quiet nature in response, given for the few people who’d met Golden firsthand.
“Good morning,” piped up the few about the hall.
Golden nodded in response. “Getting down to business, I would like to make an announcement. None of this is real.”
Everyone in the audience looked confused. A wave of whispering went through the assembled crowd. Golden continued. “I mean, it’s obvious that you’re dreaming. Look at me! I’m a pony in real life! Check your watches; they all say ‘toast thirty’ even the non-digital ones.”
This time, the whispers were louder. Golden noticed a few people in the back of the room not looking shocked at the revelation, however. In fact, they appeared quite displeased. They were also coming closer. And, Golden noticed, some of them were looking particularly menacing.
Their eyes flashed blue, the same color as changelings. That make perfect sense, really. They were elephants.
Just kidding. They were actually changelings, and they were coming right for her.
We’re sorry. We can’t tell you what happened. Castro is like Vegas. You know the saying.
Then again, this could be important to national security in the event of future changeling invasions, so we’re putting a temporary freedom of the press order in effect.
Marglefromticat sat with cute dancer on his lap. “Hey cutie,” the disguised changeling said with a wink, “Wanna dance on my pole?”
“I’d love to, baby,” came the reply in a surprisingly deep voice. Up close, Marglefromticat noticed a suspicious amount of beard stubble on the dancer’s face. Then again, perhaps the females of the species could grow facial hair too; it just must be a faux pas not to shave it.
Around the room, other disguised changelings were hanging out to various degrees with other humans. Many of the people seemed to be disguised themselves, wearing lots of makeup and sometimes wigs and other accessories. Despite that, there was surprisingly little clothing to be found. Marglefromticat wondered if he was overdressed.
Over by the bar, drinks were being poured. Marglefromticat wasn’t quite sure what it was, but some of his friends were partaking. One of the other changelings wandered over to him and his new friend. In her hands was a small tray bearing glasses of liquid.
“Here, try this!” Eglamorticai exclaimed, distributing beverages. Marglefromticat accepted a glass and looked at it with interest. He shrugged and poured it down the hatch.
It was like inhaling a particularly energetic spell. Feeling flowed through his thorax and out to the ends of his extremities. It was amazing.
After a couple more drinks, every changeling in the club was easily twice as energetic as before. Forget the human dancers, they would put on a show of their own.
The scene changed so often and so quickly as to be impossible to describe. Humanized changelings were everywhere, waving their arms like they just didn’t care. The rapid pace was quickly overwhelming the beat of the music and someone with a saxaphone stepped in to take things up a notch.
The regular clientele of the bar were also participating, happy to see such enthusiastic newcomers in their midst. Clothing was being shed, more drinks were pouring, and someone’s pet water buffalo was loose upstairs.
Outside, car alarms were going off but the noise from the bar was spreading even further. The San Francisco Police were called, but this being a fairly normal magical party in the Castro District of the City by the Bay, there was no effect. This was one crazy train that was going to go off the rails and stay there. Where they were going, they didn’t need rails.
Marglefromticat wished they could invade Earth every night.
Chapter Four- “Nobody move or Princess Celestia gets it”
“I should probably leave now,” muttered Golden. Every last convention-goer stared at her with the glee of seeing a real pony for the first time. The disguised changelings posing as staff members, VIP’s, and guests were starting her way, not bothering to hide their expressions of malice.
Golden stepped off the stage and scooted towards the door, passing tables of merchandise. She was trying to think of a way out of this situation, but it looked like she might have to do something desperate.
Her eye fell on a table where a plethora of premium pony plushies lay. She grabbed the biggest one and held it up so everyone could see. It was a nearly life-size figure of Luna.
“Nobody move or I rip the head off this plushie!”
The bronies stopped in terror. The changelings stopped in confusion. In fact, the only one who didn’t stop was Nicole Oliver. She took a few steps forward, raising her hands. “Please reconsider. There’s no need to get violent. That doll never did anything to hurt anyone. It’s destined for the auction to benefit local charities. Please let it go.”
Golden hesitated. Nicole kept walking forward. She reached out to touch the Luna plushie. “Please, take me instead.”
Golden was too surprised to resist as Nicole took the plushie from her hooves and slipped her own neck into Golden’s chokehold.
“Nobody move or Princess Celestia gets it!” Nicole called.
The changelings paused, quite unsure if she was serious.
The staff members watched the unfolding standoff.
“Alright, we really need to do something!” Skandranon insisted.
“Like what?” Sonya asked.
“Well, how should I know?” Skandranon threw up his hands. “Maybe we could use this crazy dream to our advantage and help Golden!”
“Like how?” Dusty broke in.
“Wait, it’s a dream, so how do we know what will happen?” Phillip asked. “Is any of this real? How do we know for sure?”
Sonya, fed up with arguing, decided to take matters into her own hands. As the group of advancing changelings chose to ignore Nicole’s questionable threat, Sonya ran forward to intercept them. Outstretching her arms, she aimed for the changeling in the lead and shouted, “Hadouken!”
The others had barely noticed Sonya’s first move, but they too would find themselves joining the offensive. Phillip followed Sonya’s form, diving into the fight to meet a changeling just off to the side of Golden. Leon and Dusty had materialized wooden polearms and leaped forward. As for Skandranon and the rest of the attackers, the mass of humans drove to meet the aggressors and end the standoff.
The lead changeling barely realized what had just happened before his head was smashed against the floor. Another was struck to the ground by Sonya’s follower. Two more screamed in pain as wooden poles met their vertebrae and smacked them down to size. The rest were soon swooped upon by the attackers and a huge spontaneous battle broke out in the middle of the convention hall.
The use of fists was the norm throughout the gigantic brawl, especially after wooden poles and 2x4s were splintered or shattered to pieces. Nothing like a thorough smack to the head to put down a changeling.
However, as more of the enraged staff members copied Sonya’s use of high energy fireball-like projectiles, the tide began to definitively turn in favor of the human army. The seconds ticked, and the knock-out count soared. And just as the last posterior was dropkicked and the last changeling bit the dust, the world began to change.
At first it was just a slight difference, but as the victorious staff members celebrated their lopsided victory, small pieces of the sky began to flake away. It took a moment, but eventually they noticed when the roof of the convention center was suddenly dematerialized.
The staff looked up as one, seeing bits of atmosphere falling gracefully like unholy snow. Quite a few jaws dropped immediately. What they saw was out of this world - literally.
The walls of the building soon began to repeat the same pattern, trickling away into to the void that was simply nothing. Victorious chants had turned into shrieks of that terror that only a character like Rarity could match, and the scene had once again become one of chaos in the attempt scramble back to the safety of hotel rooms. But the block of rooms surrounding the convention center started its fade into nothing, trapping them in the middle of an assured doom.
Sonya looked down at her hands and shook them upon instinct. Half of her forearms were already lost by the time she managed a yelp for help. And just like, the world went dark.
***
Sonya woke up to feeling like she was swimming. That was true to the extent that she was covered in liquid. It just happened to be inside a green, gooey encasement. Her first frantic instinct was to find a way to the surface and she found herself making contact with material that absorbed her blows at trying to break out. She cocked her arm back and forced it up with all her might, bursting through. She could feel fresh air rushing around her fist.
More rounds of punching and a final kick tore a hole in the sleeping cocoon before she pulled herself out. She breathed hard, sucking in the real oxygen that she needed compared to whatever had been in that god-forsaken liquid she was just in.
Sonya looked about the room and thought it to be void of friendly life until she caught sight of a friendly face: Golden Gates.
A black insectoid form lay in front of the pegasus, twitching from receiving a thorough beating to the head with a roll of newspaper.
“Golden?” Sonya peeped. She’d put herself in a defensive stance just in case she would be attacked in some fashion, but there were no more changelings to be seen.
The pony had a small smile on her face as she dropped dropped the crumpled remains of the San Francisco Chronicle on top the changeling’s head. “Ah, you’re finally awake. Glad to see that you’re out of your watery grave. This boy decided it was a good idea to wake up at the wrong time.” She stepped away from the changeling and let Sonya see what was really going on.
“Wait a minute,” Sonya shook her head in disbelief. “This is just another whacked-out dream, isn’t it?”
“I’m afraid I can’t say so. You should really take a look outside, though.”
Sonya turned towards the view of the landing strip of SFO, watching as a jumbo-jet of the United Airlines fleet landed on the tarmac and rolled off out of her view. Golden wasn’t pleased with her choice. “The other outside, Sonya. The courtyard.”
“Okay, okay. Geez.” Sonya warded off the pony as she went and opened the door. Everything seemed to be order, despite the turn of events that’d happened within the room. Behind them was the changeling just beat down with newspapers, but out there, it looked perfectly normal. No signs of cheese legs roaming around the halls.
However, Sonya caught a gurgling sound coming from behind a nearby door. It sounded like someone waking up to find themselves in a cocoon and not liking it one bit.
As if on cue, the door opened and a slimy Phillip stumbled out. He blinked blearily at Sonya. “What just happened?”
Sonya fumbled for words, but Golden stepped up. “Changelings kidnapped you and put you in a dream state along with the rest of the staff members of the convention. You just managed to fight your way out, and now here you are. I helped you wake up because these changelings are attempting to tap into the love that your convention-goers have for ponies and the community alike. So far, they’ve been successful, but they can easily be driven out if-”
“How do we know that this isn’t some giant ploy that you’re in on? You could be a changeling in disguise!” Another muck-covered staff member appeared outside of their door a few rooms down the lane. Other people making similarly accusing statements began to appear.
Golden held up a hoof, managing to silence the chatter. “I could either give you a long and boring explanation about why I’m here, or I could simply tell you that I’m just trying to stop it, because people are pretty cool.” She grinned. “I would even venture to say twenty percent cooler.”
There was silence for a few seconds. Sonya said, “Well, I guess we kind of are.”
A chorus of agreement went through the crowd. It died out quickly, however. They were all covered in cocoon sludge and most of the changelings were still running loose. Nobody was in a good mood.
“We should go,” Golden prodded. Sonya bobbed her head in agreement and the crowd moved down the hall, following the pegasus. Golden stopped in front of a window and pointed. “Have a look.”
The window faced the courtyard and the mayhem therein. Small fires burned among scattered debris and panicked convention-goers attempted to flee. The entire building and the decorations the staff had worked so hard to set up inside were stained, battered, and disrespected. It was clearly obvious that someone done goofed.
“My beautiful con…” Sonya gasped.
“Changelings are not very good at organizing events,” Golden noted. “They stuck the lot of you in a collective dream and tried to take your place. As you can see, it went terribly.”
“Wait, changelings?” Bryan said. “Like...what was rumored to have happened at that other convention?”
“Rumored? A friend of mine was there!” Leon said.
“We just need to take care of our own problem, and then we’ll get into the history,” Golden said.
“Well then, let’s not keep ‘em waiting.” Dusty flapped his arms free of the muck and hit the elevator button at the end of the hallway. The slight grimace on his lips didn’t compare to the anger-filled words that they all would have for the first changeling they drilled into the ground.
The staff pushed into the elevator as the doors opened, shoving to get everyone to fit. The light, pleasant music made the situation seem less dire than it was. Everyone crowded close, trying to pack every last one of them in. Golden was forced to crowdsurf up near ceiling. She grinned sheepishly.
“All right, we’ve been through this before,” said Skandranon. “We go in there and kick ass, just like last time.”
“Er, this is probably a good time to mention that we’re out of the dream now,” said Sonya. “You can die here.”
Skandranon blinked. “This isn’t just another level of dream like Inception?”
“I’m afraid not,” Golden replied from above.
“So...what’s the new plan?” Bryan asked.
The elevator descended in silence.
Chapter Five- "Small bits of crispy cookie and slips of paper"
The elevator stopped at the ground floor. The doors opened on a wasteland of a convention center, looking worse now that the staff were up close and personal with it.
Everyone was now committed to restoring order. The hurried, impromptu planning on the elevator ride had resulted with little in the way of tactics, but plenty in the motivation department.
The changelings had to be stopped. The staff might be the only ones who could do it. Besides, bronies didn’t take crap off anyone, especially not changelings.
Golden trailed slightly behind the group. This wasn’t her convention, regardless of how invested she was in it, or how much of a literal mascot she was. She did wear a staff badge, however, a spare given to her by Sonya. After all, Golden was nothing if not an honorary guest.
As the group moved forward, Sonya led the charge. While her motivational speech had been improvised on the spot, even she was surprised at how awesome it sounded. Everyone was pumped, and ready to take the fight to those who dared wreck their convention.
The staff fanned out in maneuver groups of twos or threes and bore down any targets they could immediately recognise as changelings. It was honestly very easy to recognize them. The false staff had foolishly forgotten their badges.
A few of the real staff members had picked up what remained of metal poles and improvised shields and used them to their advantage, or rather, ‘for their enjoyment’. The shrieks of broken changelings soon followed.
Some others in the group had resorted to the primal instincts of a defensive lineman, tracking down and brutally tackling the shape-shifters back to size. Sonya was among them, unfortunately unable to utilize Hadouken, but making use of a variety of other skills picked up from Street Fighter as she did back in the collective dream. A lot of knock-outs were scored, the exoskeletons of their foes performing poorly in the impact department.
Golden was amazed at how well the real staff handled the real-life changelings. If Equestria had the shield-bashing brutes that Sonya had right now, Canterlot would’ve never been invaded. She had to give people credit. They were as ferocious as they came.
“You!” Ghreshlomatrique called out from behind Golden. “Once I get my hands on you, you’re through!”
“Play ball!” one of the staffers yelled out as they gracefully jumped through the air and smacked the changeling across the head with a wooden bat branded with the name ‘Sandman’, soon running off with a victory laugh.
Golden took her gifted moment and scattered from the scene. Ghreshlomatrique rubbed his head angrily, wincing as his hand made contact with the large bruise left from the blunt weapon. “Damn her!”
As she vamoosed, Golden spotted a group of changelings trying to corral Nicole Oliver. The VIP was in the process being kidnapped, and hauled from the convention center by her captors.
Chrysalis looked around, not spotting anyone close by to help. She charged forward.
The changelings pulled Nicole out the door, heading for the parking garage, the four-story structure the hotel had used for guest vehicles. Sprinting after them, bobbing and weaving around pillars and sedans to keep her profile hidden, Golden kept up the pursuit.
They had made it to the second level when she struck. Bowling over the changelings assaulting Nicole, Chrysalis managed to get her away from the kidnappers.
“Sorry, I can explain.” Chrysalis held up her badge. Behind Nicole, the changelings began to stir.
“But I’m afraid that I don’t have time right now. Come on, we have to get out of here.” Turning, and making sure Nicole was following, Chrysalis galloped away, looking for a way out. And then she saw it.
Golden came to a skidding halt on the driver’s side of an orange muscle car with Michigan license plates. The window was down two inches.
She swept a wing through the gap in the window and unlocked the door. Inside, she pulled a mess of wires down from under the dashboard. Working with her hooves, wings, and teeth, she managed to get the ignition hot wired in seconds.
The engine came to life with a rumble. Golden got into the driver’s seat and unlocked the doors, allowing Nicole to step in on the other side.
“So, mind telling me what’s going on here?” Nicole turned to Golden, strapping on her seatbelt.
“What’s there to tell?” she quipped in return, putting on her own seatbelt before putting her hoof over the shifter.
“Well, I’m in a stolen vehicle with a fictional cartoon character and last I saw, I was about to be kidnapped by-”
“I’ll explain in a minute! Right now, we need to right now vacate these premises right now!” Golden grabbed the shifter and put the car into gear. They shot out of the parking space with a screech of tires and zoomed down the ramp, hooking a hard right towards freedom.
Surprised changelings met the car head on, and some of them didn’t get out of the way in time, leaving green splats on the windshield. Golden turned on the wipers.
They roared out of the parking garage and into the noon sunlight. Golden made it across the parking lot and swung the wheel to the right, turning onto the northbound US 101.
“So tell me what’s going on,” said Nicole.
Golden glanced at her. “What makes you think anything’s going on?”
“Well, a real live pony shows up to a brony convention and so do a crowd of changelings. Something out of the ordinary is happening.”
“It’s complicated, okay?” said Golden. She ignored another motorist on the highway who did a double take at seeing a pegasus driving a bright orange car.
“Looks like someone’s trying to bring the party to us,” Nicole alerted Golden. She looked into the rear-view mirror, catching a view of an SUV and a sedan peeling out of the on-ramp before disappearing behind a big-rig. The car ramped up its RPMs as the pegasus hit the gas. Down the highway they went, the two vehicles in hot pursuit.
In the passenger seat of one of the pursuing cars, Ghreshlomatrique growled under his breath. “She’s running.”
“What do we do, boss?” asked the changeling who was driving.
“Let me make a call.” Ghreshlomatrique pulled out the cell phone he had bought and dialed for the changelings who were still out in the Castro District.
A scratchy voice answered. “Yeah?”
“Stop whatever or whoever you’re doing and meet up with us,” Ghreshlomatrique ordered. “We’ve got a situation.”
“Aw, really? Do we have to?”
“Just get moving!”
Back in the parking garage, some of the staff members had clambered into a large pickup truck, bringing along with them boxes of pony plushies to use as weapons against the aggressors.
“Hurry up!” Sonya yelled at Dusty from the passenger seat as his shaky hands attempted to turn the ignition.
“We’re busting our chops as fast as we can,” he retorted in spirit of the Rainbow Dash figurine on the dashboard. The engine roared to life as two more members of the staff, Welch and Leon, piled in with more boxes of plushies to as projectile weapons. Once secured, they drove out of the parking garage and in the direction that Chrysalis and her pursuers had gone, using the fresh tire marks as their guide.
Meanwhile, Golden was doing all she could to make the situation worse (for her pursuers). She wove in and out of traffic, trying to lose her pursuers.
“Where did you learn to drive?” Nicole asked, bracing herself as the car swerved.
“You’re lucky I can drive at all with hooves!” Golden shot back.
Nicole gripped the door as Golden swerved around an 18-wheeler, squeezing in front of one of San Francisco’s iconic battery-powered cars. Still quite a ways back but still in the fight, the changelings revved their engines and forced their way through the traffic, rendering drivers helpless as they pushed them aside with their front bumpers.
The 101 headed north into other neighborhoods. Passing residential streets and crossing under I-280, Golden tried to figure out where she was going. Unfortunately, the twisting streets of San Francisco were hard enough to navigate even if you weren’t a pony visiting for the first time.
So, she accidentally ended up in the Castro District. Golden and Nicole looked right and left as they drove through. Castro wasn’t the bad part of town, far from it. In fact, it was perhaps the most flamboyant part.
However, there were a lot of changelings there. Nicole locked the doors. Golden gave the car some more gas and they left the neighborhood as fast as possible.
Like any stylistic car chase set in San Francisco, the hills were bound to be a factor. The extra speed the car carried coming out of Castro set it up for a long roller coaster ride through the city.
101 soon turned into a fusilade of residential streets and avenues, which would prove to make Golden’s great escape further out of grasp. There was only one way to get out of this, and it had to be done.
Dodging a mini-bus, she swerved into oncoming traffic in the southbound lane. Horns beeped and honked as she turned back and forth between both lanes, avoiding vehicles by a mane strand. Nicole looked behind them and found three more vehicles doing the same.
Golden kept her hoof pinned to the floorboard as the car soared over the crest of a hill, putting daylight under all four tires before smacking the pavement on the downslope with a shower of sparks and speeding for the next intersection.
It was something of a miracle that traffic was light enough to swerve out of their way, horns blaring at the miscreants treating the streets like a cross between a playground and a war zone.
Back in the truck, Sonya pointed ahead towards a bright orange vehicle making decent progress in lieu of the traffic conditions. “That’s gotta be her.” Her driver nodded and stepped on the pedal, the truck lurching back as it gathered speed among the swerves. She could also see the changeling’s vehicles working their way between the many drivers, and she bit her lip.
Sonya rubbed her head in anger, the Rainbow Dash figurine having hit her in the head mid-swerve before finding its new home between her feet.
“Sorry,” Dusty muttered as swerved to avoid a tanker coming into the city, doing his best to keep the behemoth from miller-rolling onto its side. They were getting close enough to initiate their first plan of attack.
The two changeling cars in front of them had no idea what they were about to experience, if you count having plushies angrily thrown into your window as such. Welch tapped Dusty’s shoulder, and he promptly rolled the back window down for him to crawl into the bed of the truck. More angles of fire would prove to be the best tactic in this type of warzone, and with their ammunition ranging into the hundreds, they’d hopefully get relief for Chrysalis to get away from these fools.
Golden hung a left and headed due north, charging through the gates of Chinatown. The roaring exhaust rattled off the tightly packed buildings and an unfortunately placed cardboard box of fortune cookies was run down by the speeding car. Small bits of crispy cookie and slips of paper flew everywhere.
The chase continued, racing through the narrow streets and dodging in close proximity to the sides of buildings. No way in heck was a side-by-side battle going to ensue.
Golden checked the rear-view again, her ears filled with sound of the roaring exhaust. The three vehicles were still uptight and keeping a mere car-length or two behind her.
Sonya kept her hand on the dashboard and peeked her head out the window, only to pull it back to avoid a lantern hanging down from one of the storefronts. Welch was lucky to have landed in the bed of the truck after nearly being flung away on the turn into Chinatown. Leon passed back a box of plushies for him to use, and he couldn’t be happier about it. Changeling-involved car chases were a once in a lifetime event.
Returning memorabilia to the manufacturer was also somewhat of a once in a lifetime event. No brony would ever willingly throw away their collectables, but as the staff members hurled plushies, some of them invariably ended up on the streets of Chinatown.
North of Chinatown, Coit Tower stood at the top of Telegraph Hill overlooking the city. Golden skirted it, not wanting to run into a dead end, but still managed to get a good view of San Francisco. Alcatraz Island was across the water to the north. To the south was the attractive downtown skyline. And to the northwest was her namesake, the Golden Gate Bridge.
One of the paper fortune cookie slips from earlier made it through the ventilation system and fluttered out inside the car. Nicole snatched it. Her brow furrowed as she read it. “You will soon go on a trip.”
Attention already distracted by the scenery, Golden turned her head to ask, “What’s that mean?” but suddenly they were on Lombard Street, known for its twenty-seven percent grade and eight switchback turns within the length of one city block.
That was a terrible place to be distracted.
The car was punted from the rear by one of the onrushing changeling vehicles and Golden’s frantic hooves on the wheel weren’t enough to keep it straight. They spun off the street and plowed into a house.
Groaning at the pain the seatbelts had inflicted but thankful the old car didn’t have an airbag to pummel her face, Golden sat back in the seat. She blinked and took stock. Oh, right. They wanted her dead.
The door was yanked open and Ghreshlomatrique appeared, pointing a gun straight at Golden’s head. She recoiled as far as the seatbelts would let her.
He hissed at her maliciously. “Going somewhere, Chrissy?”
It was a valid question, but more important was maintaining the fusilade of plushies on the kidnappers who were loading their friends into the trunk of a car without being shot.
Nicole looked rather displeased. It wasn’t the first time that day she’d been held against her will. Golden, or perhaps Chrissy, struggled against her captors but was stuffed in the trunk before she could break free.
The changelings took off, dodging the rest of the way down Lombard Street. Through copious maneuvering and quite a bit of sheer luck, screeching tires and more than a few colorful swears, Dusty managed to navigate his truck through the giant obstacle that was the street without significant incident, putting his foot to the floor to continue the chase.
At the bottom of the hill, the road leveled out again and merged back with 101. The road was straight for several blocks before twisting through the parks and trees of the Presidio and passing through the Battery Park tunnels. The changelings kept the throttle flat out, cutting through traffic like crazy. The bronies in pursuit kept up, throwing everything they had into their assault, both literally and figuratively. Plushies, trash, and whatever junk was in the back of the truck pounded on the changeling cars as Dusty attempted to ram them with the truck’s heavy front bumper.
The road curved gently north. From beyond the trees,International Orange girders and thick steel cables came into view. It was the bridge. If Golden wasn’t so locked in the trunk, she might have marveled at the iconic San Francisco landmark.
“We’ve got to stop them before they get across the bridge!” Sonya shouted. “Once they get to the interstate they could go anywhere, even Oakland!”
“Why Oakland specifically?” Leon asked.
“Do you want to go to Oakland?”
Fortunately, that didn’t come to pass. As the ramp to the bridge loomed, the truck put an extra hard push against the closest changeling car, sending it crashing sideways into the other. Both spun sideways across the road ahead, blocking access to the bridge span.
The truck slid slid to a stop, several car lengths short of the improvised barrier. The staff jumped out, just as the lid of the trunk prison flew off with a wrench of metal.
A very pissed-looking Queen Chrysalis hovered out of the trunk, a few yellow feathers falling away.
Everyone - staff, changelings, passing pedestrians - looked on in shock. It wasn’t every day that the tallest, queeniest, most powerful changeling appeared in San Francisco. Having a crowd of changelings chase her out of the convention center and halfway across the city was highly unusual, but the most mind-shattering revelation of all was the true identity of the pony they’d become friends with.
Well, that and the fact that Chrissy had taken Nicole hostage again.
She pulled the woman out of the trunk and hauled her towards the bridge railing. Hooves gripped around Nicole’s neck, Chrysalis called to the approaching changelings. “I swear I’ll do it!”
“Like we care about her,” the changeling holding the gun snarled.
“Plan B!” Chrysalis shouted. She and Nicole sprinted for the cover of the truck. The gun-toting changeling opened fire and the others swapped back to their natural form for the benefit of launching bolts of magic.
The staff huddled behind the truck with Chrissy and Nicole as bullets of lead and magic hammered the other side. Glass shattered and tires flattened.
“Well, this didn’t turn out like we planned at all,” Chrissy muttered.
“You two planned this?” Sonya asked.
“Well, we did spend a few minutes in a trunk together planning,” Chrissy replied.
“Among other things,” Nicole added with a grin, using her most perfect Celestia voice.
“Er, we should probably do something about this situation,” said Chrissy, dodging that subject.
Nicole nodded. Then she changed into a tall alicorn with a spotless white coat and the prettiest pastel mane.
“Wait, if you’re here, then where’s Nicole Oliver?” demanded Sonya. “We paid good money for a VIP appearance!”
“Well, she could be Nicole Oliver,” Leon speculated.
“But Nicole Oliver does the voice for Cheerilee, too,” argued Welch.
“Uh, we’ve got bigger problems,” Dusty broke in.
Celly and Chrissy shared a glance and then stepped out from behind cover, both of their horns charging.
The first car blew up in a fireball, its gas tank exploded by a high-powered charge of magic. The second was merely lifted from the ground and crushed like a soda can before being unceremoniously dropped. Changelings scattered everywhere, their cover destroyed and the fear of nonspecific deities in their hearts.
The two of them walked forward, horns blazing like a green and yellow laserlight show. Changelings were knocked off their hooves and out of the air by punishing stun spells. Within mere seconds, the whole bridge was clear.
Pausing to make sure of their work, the two leaders turned to face each other. As one, they cast a spell to the heavens, a blanket of mixed magic sweeping down over the city to vacuum up any changeling left behind and punt them out of San Francisco. They even took the ones in Oakland.
The light of the spell died down as every changeling finished being banished from Earth. Chrysalis and Celestia gave each other a simultaneous brohoof without looking. They turned and came back to where the staff had watched, wide-eyed.
“Well, that’s that,” Celestia exclaimed. “Nice to meet you all. Now, where did I leave my portal…?”
She walked over to the edge of the bridge and looked down. “Aha. Well, so long all of you.” She waved a hoof and disappeared over the edge.
***
“And that is why, dearest sister, we believe you should give up cake for the next…”
There was a loud rumbling, and the vaulted dome high above the sisters’ heads began to glow and distort. Luna backed away nervously from the frothing portal that had formed above her. Celestia continued to wear her indefatigable poker-face.
Suddenly, the warping ceiling pulsed violently, then disintegrated. A haggard alicorn tumbled down, along with several thousand gallons of saltwater, which quickly flooded the throne room to several inches. The second Celestia collapsed upon the now flooded floor, sputtering and coughing. After a few moments of regaining her composure, this doppelganger looked up at the petrified princess of the night and grinned. “Hi Luna!”
Luna was gobsmacked. Her head swiveled rapidly between the two Celestias, the one sitting regally upon the throne, and the one splayed awkwardly on the floor. She tried to form words, but it was some time before more than squeaks escaped her slack jaw. “I-I-I...b-but…but?... Hwah?” she cried.
Celestia number two stood up and shook her mane out with a vigorous flick of the head. She trotted around Luna and over to the seated Celestia, beginning to giggle. When she reached the throne, she stuck a for leg out. “Hoofbump? /)”
“Brohoof (\,” the twin answered, completing the equine handshake of sorts.
Their mutual sister finally snapped. “TIA! WE DEMAND THE MEANING OF THESE SHENANIGANS! WHY ARE THERE TWO OF YOU! I ONLY HAVE ONE SISTER! YOU,” she roared, pointing at the Celestia standing in a briny puddle, “MUST BE AN IMPOSTER!”
Angered at being on the receiving end of one too many pranks, Luna reared up into the air and charged a beam of magic intended for the waterlogged pony. “EAT KIMCHI, CHANGELING!” she screamed, firing the spell with murderous precision.
Quick as a flash, Celestia threw up a shimmering gold force field, and the spell careened into the shield. The field held, and the beam instantly reflected wildly off it towards the ceiling. The incantation bounced chaotically between columns and walls, knocking over several vases and producing sparks in its wake. After what seemed to be many seconds of mad ricocheting, the spell flew right at the Celestia seated on the throne, producing a terrified expression upon the face of the unintended target.
The Princess screamed, soon glowing as white as the sun. The two other ponies in the room looked on agast, each shielding their eyes from the glare with a fetlock. Finally, the light died down, revealing...
...a buck-naked Nicole Oliver sitting awkwardly on the throne.
For the record, Celestia thought it was hilarious.
***
Back on the bridge, the sirens of emergency vehicles were already sounding in the distance. An additional group of staff and other bronies who had been field-promoted to the position had arrived and encircled the scene.
Sonya was busy trying to organize the group. More kept arriving all the time. It was as if all the convention attendees had decided to relocate to the bridge.
At some point, Chrissy had slipped away. Sonya wasn’t sure how she had done that, but changeling shapeshifting powers may have been a factor.
“What are we doing here?” Bryan asked.
“Well, the the convention hall has been ruined,” Sonya said. “Besides, we’ve got a crime scene here.” She gestured to the burning car.
“Looks like a bonfire to me,” Phillip said.
“And we’re here with all our friends,” Skandranon pointed out.
“Well, that doesn’t make it a party by any-”
“Hey everyone! We’re going to have a party!” shouted a random eavesdropper. A tremendous roar of approval went through the still-growing crowd.
Sonya paused, but found herself agreeing. It wasn’t like the bridge could be used for traffic at the moment anyway. They might as well make the most of it. Get some fresh air, hang out with some cool people, talk about ponies.
It just might have been the most memorable convention anyone anywhere had ever attended.
