The best friends of Scootaloo, Applebloom, and Thrackerzod are gathered around a rope tied between a tree and an apple cart. Of course they are at Sweet Apple Acres, where else would they be so unsupervised?
"Why are we all trying to get tightrope walking cutie marks? The ponyville niche for tightrope walking would be filled by a recreational tightrope walker."
"Oh hush up Thrackerzod, ya'll's always pessimistic," Applebloom says.
"The rope is not taught enough."
Applebloom jumps onto the rope, which pulls it to the ground and rolls the apple cart slightly.
"The rope is not taught enough." Thrackerzod restates as Scootaloo repeats her friend's mistakes, and jumps onto the rope. The cart rolls again, and begins going down a hill. The rope is made taught again as the cart reaches its full extent, and Scootaloo flies over ponyville for the first time in her life. She crashes right through the window to Thrackerzod's room.
•••
Light from the bursted window shines into the room: dark walls make the true dimensions unclear, a large glowing symbol dominates the floor, pulsing like the world's most underwhelming EDM club.
In the corner, a vast, shapeless mass of protoplasmic, antediluvian matter bubbles, each indication of an earthly feature forming for mere seconds before unforming back into the translucent goo. It expands across the floor like a puddle of eyes, its alien biology able to gain volume unlike any being of the earth. Scootaloo stands ankle-deep in it, trying to pull away. Whenever a hoof is pulled from the ground the puddle shows it is far more sinister, clinging to her hooves and stretching infinitesimally.
Applebloom and Thrackerzod arrive in the room from Sweet Apple Acres, and technically, a brief stent in another dimension.
"Jeez Thrackerzod, I didn't know you knew teleportation magic." Applebloom says, shaking her head around in apparent dizziness. She wants to shake the memories of what she saw out of her head, but she'll never be able to forget what she saw.
"Yes… I have been studying it with Twilight Sparkle. When I go to her house in the night, it is for tutoring, magical tutoring, in the night."
Applebloom strides over to the symbol etched into the floor and pokes at it. "What's this thing?"
"It is a lamp. It is a normal lamp, but do not touch it, the bulb gets hot."
"Hoo! Easy their girl. This thing is reaching into all the right places," Scootaloo says, the shoggoth having enveloped her up to her shoulders.
"Bubbles! Release the pony," Thrackerzod commands.
The shoggoth quickly dedensifies into a liquid and flows back into a pile in the corner.
"What was that thing, and how does -Hoo!- Scootaloo get one?" she says. You know which she, she says her own name.
"It is a beanbag chair. But do not touch it, either, because you could make the stuffing leak out."
"Sweetie Belle, are you home?" Rarity asks from outside.
"Yes, Rarity. I have friends over without permission. You should punish us by sending them home."
"It's not a punishment if Rarity is doing it. Hoo!"
Rarity opens the door. "Sweetie Belle! Did you break your window?"
"Yes. I have broken the window. You should punish me by sending my friends home."
"Well, then fixing it is your punishment. And also, wash my panties."
"I'll volunteer to hng-" Scootaloo begins before Thrackerzod shoves her hoof in Scootaloo's mouth.
[felatio_012.joke]
"And as for the rest of you, I'll tell your parents about this."
"My parents are dead." Says the filly with dead parents.
"Well I'm sure Applejack is used to assuming your mother' position."
"Hoo!"
"And what 'bout Scootaloo? We've never met her parents, neither."
"Oh, you're the only mommy -Hoo!- Scootaloo needs," Scootaloo says, wrapping her forehooves around Rarity's back leg. This sets her up for the immediate kick Rarity performs, sending Scootaloo flying back out another window.
In a window,
Out a window.
Scootaloo truly is,
The window king.
"I'm going to take Applebloom home. Fix those windows and clean my panties."
Thrackerzod picks up the heap of panties, seaping with fluids she'd rather not imagine.
"I have bathed in the primordial soup of stars, why would dry semen shock me?" she asks me, only aware of this story’s existence because of her fourth-dimensional vision.
She loads the panties into the dishwasher and starts it.
•••
"You of all ponies don't have a washing machine?!" Twilight yells, "I'd understand basic amenities not being present anywhere else in this town, but you make clothes!”
"Not machine washable ones, darling."
"So, you clean your own clothes by hand?"
>inb4 "What's a hand?"
"Of course not, I just toss them in the dishwasher."
"That's so unsanitary! I know where your personal wardrobe ends up," Twilight says, "and it's the last place I'd want my cutlery."
"Well I don't quite fancy your forks up my ass either!"
•••
Cuntlery.
•••
The washing machine dings and Thrackerzod opens it. Although some washing machines do have drying cycles, they typically use steam, which would only further saturate cloth. Thrackerzod pins panty after panty to the clothes line.
"Oͯ̀̑ͥͭͧ͏̦v̮e͐͗͒ͦͯr̻̱̉̄h̳̰͚̠̼̰̒̕y̬̖̩͙̣̜̭͌͑̊ͤ͜p̗̘̮͕̬͍̊e̵̳̟ͥ," Thrackerzod shouts, opening a hellish portal beneath the clothes line, drying the delicates with the heat of alternate, unfashionable dimensions.
"Sweetie Belle, I'm home!" Rarity whines, casting herself onto her fainting couch. "walking Applebloom home has left me exhausted! I absolutely Must have a couple of stallions over! And don't forget to fix the window!" she yells, her shrill voice only barely audible over the wailing of damned souls.
"N̶̜̩̟̲̝̍͊́ͥ̿̆̈u̘͓g̣̰͗̊̄̚̚g̨̯̫̤̫͆̀͛͗̾l̯̝̘̆̊͋̑̾̄e̢ş̲̘͕̫̗ͭ̈̅," Skeletally thin hands reach out of the abyss and begin folding the panties at Thrackerzod's command. She turns her attention to those window. Dashing around the house, she collects all available candles: mostly Rarity's half-used scented bathing candles, and a cake candle with crusty frosting on it.
She arranges them on her pentagram. The cake candle falls over. Thrackerzod retrieves the cupcake she got it from, one the many Pinkie Pie has thrown through their windows, and props the candle up using its god-intended home.
"D̞ͭ̑̌̍̽o͎̳̘ͨ'̳̜̄͑̒ͪ͝N̥̻̤u̱̱̝͑̒̈ͫ̃̚l̰̪̟ͣ͐̅ͪ͌͋l̍͒͐́," she speaks, and in a puff of white smoke appears an eagle with four heads, no wings, and buff man arms.
"I am Zez'Zeminous, Archdemon of Windows!" it screams from all of its heads, each in a different language: Aramaic, Ebonics, some Unhearable Tongue that would have killed the ponies in the next room if they could hear it over the sounds of them fucking, which they couldn't, and Dutch.
"Yes. I have summoned you to repair a window." Thrackerzod states.
"Windows are my sssssssss… Wow, they are really going at it. Is she always this loud?" the demon hisses.
"Indeed. It is worse than the fourth screaming moon of Ya'Hjed. And with my fourth-dimensional sight, I see them as well.”
"Even my black hearts pity you. Anyways, the window?" asks the window-beast.
"Yes. There are two upstairs, repair them both and I will return you to window hell." states the eldritch-minded, pony-bodied being.
"Two windows? The additional will cost you… hmm… a mirror that has reflected a virgin."
"Does this body count as a virgin? Only the tentacles of Azeroth have penetrated this form."
"Well, that's damaged goods, you'll have to up it to a wall mirror."
"Take the mirror from the upstairs bathroom, Rarity never uses it and my fourth dimensional sight lets me see myself from angles no mirror could reflect."
"Then the pact is sealed…" he hisses, dissolving upstairs.
The scented candles have saturated the air with the collective scents of coconuts, the sea, cocoa butter, generic citrus, and freshly cut grass. If she had a digestive system, Thrackerzod might have vomited.
And then she remembered that Scootaloo's birthday was tomorrow. She should attend it, as it is a social gathering, and she should bring a gift, because that's what a normal pony would do. She retrieves the panties from the demon hands from hell and hides one in the cracks in the walls for later. She returns the rest to outside Rarity's bedroom door, right next to the waiting room.
Zez'Zeminous walks through the living room with the wall-mirror held in his large, burly person arms. "Your windows are repaired, and your debt is repaid," he says before entering the mirror and exiting Equestria.
Thrackerzod returns to her room and floats ominously until she hears Rarity arguing with a stallion, and knows it must be morning.