Chapter 1
The Harvest Festival
In the town of Ponyville, the annual Harvest Festival was underway. The town square had been transformed from its homey, familiar look, to a rustic, rural setting.
Long tables had been set up, draped with corn, pumpkins, carrots, peas and apples provided by Sweet Apple Acres. Stables had been set up, where the animals stayed before they were judged by a panel. Stalls lined the streets, where ponies participated in the games that they waited to play all year. Foals played on the hay bales that were strewn about. And all around, every shop's door was wide open to welcome customers to the discounts inside.
Resident princess Twilight Sparkle walked through the busy square, taking note of the celebration she had helped to set up. So far, everything was going to plan, and everypony was having fun.
"I think this may be the most successful festival yet, Spike." Twilight said to her number one assistant, who was riding on her back, "Do you see Fluttershy anywhere? She's supposed to be helping us inspect the cattle corral."
"You know how she is. She's probably hiding under a table somewhere," the baby dragon said, as he climbed down to the ground, with a parchment and quill in his claws. "And, before you ask, Rainbow Dash is running the mini-derby, Rarity's in her shop, Applejack's over at the stables, and Pinkie's working the counter at Sugarcube Corner, but her break should be starting just about now."
"Twilight!"
"Right on cue."
A bouncing pink mare appeared before Twilight and Spike, somehow seeming more bouncy and perky than usual, as though she had eaten half of everything she sold in the bakery.
"Twilight, we need to get ready! There are more guests coming! More guests!" Pinkie shouted.
"I don't see how. Spike and I have been walking around for a while now, and it looks like the whole town population is here,” Twilight said.
"They are. I checked off everypony on the list you made," Spike said, indicating another list he held.
"I know that! My Pinkie Sense is telling me that there are more guests coming from out of town! Somewhere far away! So far that even my phenomenal, cosmic Pinkie Sense isn't able to tell me how they like to have fun! You have to help me, Twilight! This is the first time that I felt so powerless at a party! I almost feel like my cutie mark's going to fade!" Pinkie shouted.
"If that's how you feel, why don't you ask the guests yourself?" Twilight said.
Pinkie and Spike looked to where she pointed, and sure enough there were the strangers Pinkie had foreseen coming into town. And how strange they were!
At the stables that had been set up, Applejack inspected her pigs once last time before they were ready for their turn in the livestock contest.
"Get yerselves ready little piggies. Yer number's comin' up," the farmpony said. "Mudina an’ Hamlette: you gals get to the wash pan, an' pretty up fer the showin'."
The two pigs rushed happily over to the wash pan, where they splashed in with a cannonball each.
"An' you Oinkerella, I think ya got the chops to win the weigh in this year. So, eat a quick buffet before ya get called," Applejack said, as she pulled an entire table loaded with food to the stable.
With the sunniest smile a sow ever had, the pony-sized pig jumped on the table and stuffed her face.
"Got this competition in the bag," Applejack said.
Outside the pig stable, somepony arrived.
"That you, Fluttershy?" Applejack asked, knowing her friend would love to see the pigs before the show.
Whoever was outside began huffing and puffing loudly, as if they had just run a marathon.
"Hey, you okay out there?" Applejack asked, walking to the stable door.
No sooner did Applejack finish talking, did a great wind blow. A wind strong enough to blow the door in.
Applejack ducked under the flying door, and clung to Oinkerella.
The two pigs in the wash pan rolled past them both, bounced into the wall opposite the door, and were buried under the hay that was blown about.
The wind stopped, and standing in the doorway was a frightful sight.
It looked like a timber wolf, but it was covered in dark fur, except for its white face. Curiously, or perhaps horrifying, it stood on two legs, instead of four. And, it was clothed in a tattered pair of red trousers, held up by green suspenders. On its hands, it wore a pair of white gloves, and its head was adorned with a ratty old top hat.
"Gah-hahaha! It's a smorgasbord in here! A regular hog heaven," the wolf said, in a deep, growling voice.
"Run away, lickety-split! I won't roast on no wolf's spit!" Mudina and Hamlette said together.
"Don't run, pig! It'll only make ya tough 'n stringy!" the wolf said, as he stepped forward.
Before he could even get close to the pigs, Applejack and Oinkerella dashed between him and the others.
"Ya'll better get, critter! Or yer in more trouble than a long tailed cat at a rockin' chair shop!" Applejack threatened.
"Gah-hahaha! Was that supposed to be a country-ism?" the wolf guffawed.
"Applejack's word is stable law! That, bub, is certain! If you have your ham, it'll be through a straw. Or, you'll get your final curtain," Oinkerella said.
"I guess pigs is dumb no matter where ya find 'em. Ponies too, it looks like. But, are ya tasty?" the wolf said, with an evil, gluttonous glint in his eye.
"Try a hoof an' see," Applejack said, giving one of her strongest bucks to the wolf.
The wolf flew out of the stable, and landed in the refuse bin just outside of it.
"Tough gal, eh?" the wolf said, as he adjusted his hat. "Let's just see how ya like this little puppy!"
The wolf reached into his pocket, and produced the very item that was used to destroy the crystal tree he and his larger companion visited earlier.
With a toss, the cluster of stardust darted all about the stable like an errant fly.
Applejack's head darted around too, keeping track of the item's erratic movements.
"What're ya doin'? Get that thing outta here!" she demanded.
The wolf only laughed at her, mocking her, berating her.
Applejack nearly charged to buck again, only for the light to become brighter, and she suddenly felt her limbs grow heavy.
"Gah-hahahahahaha!! Yer weaker than a cuppa coffee in a rainstorm! Now that's a country-ism!" the wolf laughed.
The wolf huffed, and puffed, and blew Applejack backwards into a sack of feed, cinched it shut, and hung on it on a hook.
He turned to the pigs in the stable, and licked his chops.
"Let's start makin' bacon!" the wolf growled, brandishing a meat cleaver to the screaming pigs.
Rarity had been mingling among the customers of her boutique, helping them pick what they wanted to buy, and taking their custom orders, when all of a sudden the door burst open and an incredible banging sound was heard.
Everypony ducked in cover, as displays and furniture were torn apart by an unseen force.
When it ended, nopony was hurt, but many still didn't dare to peek from behind their cover. Rarity, however, took it upon herself to see to the safety of her customers. But when she looked from behind her counter, she wished she hadn't.
Standing in the doorway was a mob of unfamiliar creatures. There were at least six or seven of them, armed with knives, clubs, brass knuckles, shaving razors, baseball bats, and the like. They looked like a group of giant, two-legged weasels, all dressed in pants and sweaters, some wearing hats.
But the worst one of all was the one in the middle. This one was like a cat, taller than any of the weasels, and incredibly fat. He wore a red turtleneck, brown jacket and black pants. On his feet was one single shoe, as his other leg was replaced with a wooden peg. In his mouth was a cigar, billowing with black smoke. In his hands, he held a black tommy gun with a smoking barrel.
"Alright, boys. Start casin' de joint!" the cat ordered the weasels.
Upon the order, the weasels spread out through the shop and began tearing into anything they could get their hands on.
Rarity had laid out her most elegant jewels and fabrics for the festival, and was mortified to see what wasn't damaged getting stolen, let alone handled so roughly.
In an instant, the unicorn enveloped it all in her magic.
"Hey!" the cat shouted, as a jeweled gown was yanked from his hands.
Rarity took everything of value in the room, and used her magic to turn a panel on the wall, revealing a safe. The safe was opened, and all the merchandise was crammed into it. The fashionista hated herself for handling her goods so roughly, but all was necessary to keep it away from such ruffians.
"So, ya wanna do dis the hard way, eh?" the cat said.
He stepped over to the safe, and raised his fist.
"You can't open it! It only reacts to my magic!" Rarity said.
"Oh yeah?"
"Yes! Now leave, before the royal guards are summoned!"
"Fat chance o' dat, doll," the cat said, as he wound up his arm.
The cat plunged his fist into the wall, deeply indenting the safe. When he retracted his arm, he yanked out the entire safe, taking a huge chunk of the wall with it.
"Dis is it, boys. Now, let's get what we really came for," the cat said.
A whole round of cheers came from the weasels as they exited the shop, until the cat was stopped by Rarity trying to magically retrieve the safe.
The fashionista strained as she tried to relinquish the safe from the heavy's herculean grip, but the cat remained steadfast.
"No! I won't have you ruin my business," Rarity said.
The cat reached into his pocket, and produced a long, leathery brown strip, which he took a bite out of.
"As long as yer puttin' up a fight, yer ruinin' my business," he growled.
With a mighty spit, a stream of brown goop flew across the room and hit Rarity squarely in her horn. The force of the hit took Rarity off her hooves, and left her covered in the sticky, brown liquid.
The fashionista put her hooves from her mane to her chin, and screamed when she saw she was drenched in the stuff.
"Wahahaha! Have a nice day, doll," the cat bade her, before he left out the door.
Once outside, the cat stopped.
"Oh yeah. I almost fergot."
The heavy reached into his jacket, and produced a keg of dynamite. The fuse was applied to his cigar, and began to sizzle.
The dynamite was thrown into the shop, and the ponies inside all ran into cover.
There was a deafening explosion. Nopony was hurt, but the inside of the boutique was completely destroyed. Worse still, when Rarity found her reflection in shards of a shattered mirror, she saw that her carefully styled mane had been further ruined by the explosion, now blown into all directions.
"Things couldn't be goin' better, eh, boss?" one of the weasels said.
"Yup. De big boss is gonna be real happy wit' what we done here," the cat answered.
The weasels spread out, and he clomped through the town square, taking whatever he wanted from the panicking ponies, who all ran from the flying light.
"Dat's a pretty nice wallet ya got," the cat said, swiping the possession from its owner.
"Yer teeth're nicer den mine. Give 'em!" the cat said, yanking an old mare's dentures from her mouth, and placing them in his own.
"Caramel apple? I ain't had one o' dose in years," the cat said, shaking off the foal who held it.
Among the pandemonium, the wolf stuffed the two smaller pigs into a pot that was being used for a soup cook off, singing a little song to himself.
"Ist das nicht ein sausage meat?"
"Nein, das ist kein sausage meat!" The pigs refrained.
"Ist das nicht ein pigs-en feet?"
"Nein, das ist kein pigs-en feet!"
"Ist das gut feur schwein stew?"
"Ist nicht gut feur schein stew!"
"Ist das nicht ein curly cue?"
"Nein, es ist kein curly cue!"
The wolf began chopping vegetables to put into the stew he was making, while Oinkerella was bound and gagged with an apple stuffed in her mouth. Next to the pig, Applejack struggled to escape from her sack.
The cat took a huge bite of his caramel apple, and laughed heartily at the panic that abounded. Truly, there was nothing that could stop them.
At the edge of the town square, another glimmer of light arrived, followed by more strangers: a mouse, a duck, and a dog, all stunned by the bedlam before them.
"What the heck's going on here!?" Mickey shouted.
"Gawrsh! It's pandy-monium!" Goofy said.
Nearby, two weasels ganged up on a winged, yellow pony they found cowering under a table. The pony was subsequently tied up in the nearby tablecloth, along with a whole slew of pastries.
"Hey! You two cut that out! Pick on someone your own size!" Donald shouted, as he charged the two weasels.
Both weasels were completely unprepared for the fury that befell them.
The first blow happened when a rolling pin was smashed on a weasel's head, and then was pummeled with pies.
The second weasel swung his bat at Donald's head.
Donald ducked, allowing the bat to knock his first opponent out cold.
The second weasel was slammed into a massive cake, so that his head, arms and legs stuck out the top, sides and bottom, then was rolled down the street.
"If there's one thing I hate, it's a stinkin' bully," Donald grumbled, as he untied the tablecloth. "Hello? You okay in there?"
"Yes...Th-Thank you... I--"
The yellow pony's jaw dropped at the sight of a talking duck as tall as herself.
"Thank you..."
"Don't mention it, toots. Come on. Let's get outta here," Donald said, as he led the pony from the danger zone.
The town square erupted with screams at the new arrivals.
Rarity tried to run, but was stopped by a twinkling light in front of her. She shrieked, when it gleamed suddenly, but found herself no worse for wear when it dimmed.
What had happened just now? And what was the light exactly?
The fashionista saw a pony accosted by a weasel, and tried to magically throw a piece of fruit at the aggressor, only to find that nothing happened. Not even a spark of magic.
Rarity looked back to the direction she saw the light, and saw it glowing whenever it approached a pony. And it was going straight for Twilight next.
Somewhere on the border of the bedlam, Spike hid underneath Twilight, and watched what unfolded.
"Twilight? You can banish them, can't you?" he asked, covering his head with his clipboard.
"I think so. I'll just send them to Canterlot Palace. The princesses will know what to do with them," Twilight said.
The young alicorn aimed her glowing horn at the cat, who was terrorizing the populace.
"Twilight! Look out!" Rarity yelled from somewhere.
All of a sudden, Twilight was overwhelmed by a blindingly brilliant light.
Startled, but unhurt, Twilight tried to magically douse the light that blinded her.
"What are you doing, Twilight? Get rid of that cat!" Spike said.
Twilight remained silent, dumbfounded by what horror had befallen her. Whatever was happening, she would be powerless to defend the ponies she cared about against it. Without her, nopony could.
Mickey and Goofy had split up, and set to work finding the source of the panic.
Mickey saw a massive backside stooping under a table, reaching for the ponies underneath.
Wasting no time, the mouse grabbed a fallen banner, tied the loose end around a table leg, loaded a pumpkin, pulled back, and shot it straight and true.
With a loud shout, the target slid forward and slammed face first into a hay bale.
"What's de big idea, ya--"
The cat stood up, and recognized the diminutive assailant.
"Well, well. If it ain't good ol' Mickey Mouse. After I got dat mirror, I thought I'd never see yer do-gooder mug again," he said.
"I could say the same about you, Pete! Yer supposed to still be in jail fer rippin' off all those charities an' orphanages!" Mickey retorted.
"Wahahahaha! Not when ya got friends like mine, what can getcha outta any jam!" Pete guffawed.
"You don't have any friends! Yer an ugly, miserable waste o' space nobody can stand bein' around!"
"T’anks fer de compliment, runt. I'm glad ya noticed,” Pete said, as he raised his tommy gun, "But my friend here don't take too kind to bein' called ugly!"
Mickey ran full tilt in the opposite direction, as bullets rained around him.
He dove for cover behind some hay bales.
Pete's bullets tore the bales apart, and even cut them into the exact shape of a ballerina, whose head was shot off in a burst of straw.
Mickey's head peeked out from behind where the dancer's head was, and he noticed his new girlish figure made from hay.
"Gosh! This'd be embarrassing if it weren't so scary," Mickey thought.
More bullets shot toward him, and Mickey ducked lower and lower, as the shots slowly ate away at the figure from the top down.
Mickey crawled away to a safer place behind a booth, and contemplated a new plan.
"Come on! Come on! Get the lead out!" Donald yelled at his equine companion.
"I can't! I still need to help the animals!" the yellow pony protested.
"Don't worry about them! They can handle themselves!"
"But-- But all the poor cows and pigs and chickens at the stables! They're going to be so frightened with all this commotion! Please. Help me reach them."
Donald heard the earnest plea of the winged pony, conflicting his better nature with his will to survive.
"Okay! Fine! Then let's get you out of here!" he said.
"Thank you!"
The pony led Donald through the square to where she knew the stables were, but stopped at a horrific sight.
"Oh no! The pigs!" she shouted.
Over by the soup cook off, the pigs were in danger.
"Stand aside. I'll handle the big palooka," Donald said, as he marched forward and rolled up his sleeves.
The duck arrived at the aggressor's back, and put up his fists.
"Alright, ya hairy mug! Turn around and put up yer dukes!" he said.
The black haired glutton turned around to reveal his lupine features.
"It ain't a good idea comin' between a wolf an' his meal," he growled.
"What the--!? Zeke Midas Wolf!?" Donald exclaimed.
"That's the Big Bad Wolf to you, duck! But, since yer here, why don't ya grab some oranges, and we can have us some duck l'orange?"
Though Donald feared being eaten by the glutton, he remained steadfast.
"Forget it, fuzzy! You got those pigs tied up, and I'm takin' 'em back from you!"
"Oh yeah?" Big Bad said, baring his fangs.
"Yeah!"
"Oh yeah?" Big Bad said, unsheathing his claws.
"Yeah!"
"Oh yeah?" Big Bad said, brandishing two meat cleavers from his pockets.
Sweating, Donald tugged his collar.
"...Oh no..."
"Gah-hahaha! Yer a dead duck, Duck!"
"WA-A-A-A-A-A-A-AAAAK!!!"
Donald ran away from Big Bad, and was chased around the town square, even on the sides of the buildings that bordered the area.
"HELP ME! SAVE ME! HELP ME! SAVE ME!" Donald shouted.
In Donald's path, his foot caught on the upper handle of a double door, opening it as he ran by.
When Big Bad followed, he slammed into it face first, and was stopped in his tracks.
Donald looked back, and screeched to a halt when he saw his carnivorous pursuer counting stars and birds.
"Ha ha. And that's that," the duck said, adjusting his sailor's hat.
Donald rejoined his pony friend at the table Big Bad was preparing to cook the pigs at. Currently, the pony was struggling to undo a tightly cinched sack of feed.
"Let me get that for ya. I'm a sailor. I know a thing or two about knots," Donald offered.
He had successfully opened the bag, when he got a pair of orange hooves bucked in his bill.
"HEY!! What's the big idea!? I just saved you from becoming pony flambe!" Donald shouted.
Applejack stared dumbstruck at the bouncing duck before her.
"Fluttershy: why's there a talkin' duck here?" she asked.
"I don't know. But...But, he's no friend of that wolf. So, I think that means he's our friend," Fluttershy answered.
"That's right," Donald said, puffing his chest at the chance to be admired. "Donald Fauntleroy Duck, and I'm here to help."
He had quite forgotten his hesitation to help earlier, only from the aspect of adulation.
"Thanks, pardner. Glad to have ya," Applejack said. "Considerin' I ain't up to snuff. Normally, I coulda bucked ya 'cross town. But, that wolf over there did somethin' with a light, an' now I'm... lower than a broke wagon in a gulch."
Now that was a good country-ism.
"That same light got me too. Only, I can't fly anymore," Fluttershy said, revealing her limp wings.
Donald couldn't take it anymore. First bullies were running amok, and now something really strange was happening to the ponies of this town.
"That does it! All these guys are goin' down! Let's get 'em! You and me!" he said to Applejack.
"Don't know what good I'll do in my condition. But, I'm with ya," Applejack affirmed.
Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie slowly backed away from the armed weasels, who were slowly surrounding and closing in on them. After the light had shone on them, any power that they had to give them an advantage over their aggressors was taken away.
The mares' minds raced frantically for an escape.
"Wait just a darn minute!" a new voice yelled from behind the weasels.
They all turned, and saw Goofy standing there with his fists held up.
"Why don't ya come over here fer a bitta this!" Goofy said, as he wildly swung his fists.
The weasels all looked at each other, then at their weapons.
"Come on! Put 'em up! Put 'em up!" Goofy said.
Every one of the weasels raised their hands high in the air.
"We surrender!" they all said at once.
"Ya do?" Goofy lowered his fists. "Gawrsh. That wuz easy."
"Noooooo!" Rainbow Dash groaned, dragging her hoof down her face.
"No! Ya big dip!" one weasel said.
The weasels all pounced on Goofy.
It was a whole mess of flailing limbs and swinging weapons, everybody hurting everybody in the mishmash melee.
Goofy burst out from the top of the pile, and landed on a stack of metal pails that were set up for one of the festival games. His hands and feet ended up stuck in a bucket each, and a fifth one landed on his head.
"Come on, Dashie! Help him!" Pinkie said, using her back to prop Goofy up.
The goof stood up and frantically tried to remove the bucket off his head, but the buckets on his hands impeded his dexterity. The buckets on his feet didn't help his balance either.
Dash stood on a table, and tried to pull the bucket off Goofy's head. Putting her back into the push, Dash leaned forward, and pushed Goofy toward the weasels.
"That's not helping, Dashie!" Pinkie admonished.
Unknown to Goofy, the weasels all continued their attacks, only to miss every time that the goof twisted, bent, struggled and swung his body in his vain effort to free himself.
Goofy bent over, and backpedaled, bumping into a weasel behind him, who tumbled head over heels into a bobbing tub.
He lost balance, and spun with his arms outstretched, smacking three more weasels.
"Looks like he's doing fine to me," Dash said, her eyes going wide at the sight of the goof effortlessly handling a pack of armed thugs.
The weasel with the shaving razor swung at Goofy's head, only for it to bounce harmlessly off the metal pail.
Goofy lurched forward, and headbutted the razor-wielding weasel, knocking him out in the process.
A weasel approached from behind with a sack of potatoes and clubbed Goofy with it.
Goofy keeled over, and recovered with a cartwheel that bopped one weasel's nose five times.
The weasel stopped his nose from twanging, and raised his fists to attack, only for a bucket on Goofy's hand to fly off and stick itself on his nose, and knock him out.
Now free of one bucket, Goofy started to more easily free himself.
He fell onto his back, and tried to take off the buckets on his feet. When he fell, he kicked one weasel in the jaw.
Dash and Pinkie grabbed Goofy by his shoulders, and pulled him backwards, before he was clubbed by a weasel's baseball bat.
The two buckets on Goofy's feet were grabbed by a weasel each, and they started to pull him away from the mares.
Goofy swung his feet inward, and knocked the two weasels' heads together.
Both weasels passed out, pulling the buckets off Goofy's feet when they fell.
Dash and Pinkie pushed Goofy upright, and shrieked when a weasel with a blackjack came running toward them all.
Goofy hopped up and down on one foot, as he used his free hand and one foot to try and push the bucket off his other hand. His effort to free himself also helped him use the bucket on his hand to inadvertently block the weasel's blackjack.
Goofy jumped, and spun around, knocking his metal-clad hand into the weasel's snout, getting a loud cheer from Pinkie and Dash.
The bucket was coming loose, and the goof started swinging his arm wildly, parrying the weasel's blows and bopping him over the head, until the bucket finally flew off and knocked the weasel into a dunk tank.
"YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
One final weasel charged toward Goofy with a battle ax raised over his head.
Goofy leaned forward, and charged headfirst into the weasel's stomach, pushing him backwards onto a strength tester.
The force of the hit sent the metal ingot high up the backboard into the bell above with a loud ding.
The ingot came falling back down, and landed on the weasel's head, knocking him out.
Goofy fell onto the ground, and started to pry the bucket off his head.
"Hold still. We'll get that for you," Pinkie said.
She and Dash helped the goof take the bucket off his head. Finally, Goofy was free.
"Thanks, li'l ladies," Goofy said, before he noticed all the weasels he had defeated. "Gawrsh. How long was I in that bucket?"
"You mean you don't know what you just did? That was one of the best things I ever saw!" Pinkie said.
"You're like Daring Do! But, if she was a total klutz!" Dash added.
"Aw, thanks. Who's Darin' Do?"
"Boy, have we got stuff to talk about."
A noise in the distance drew their attention.
"That came from the hayride!" Dash said.
And the three hastened to the location.
Over by the hay wagon, Mickey was thrown into the booth that was set up next to it: an old-fashioned smithy.
Pete took another bite of his leathery strip, and knocked Mickey off his feet with another spit.
Mickey fell backwards toward a wood burning stove.
An idea occurred to Mickey. He grabbed the stove's cast iron door, and a pair of tongs on top of it.
The mouse rushed forward with the door held up, shielding himself from Pete's gunfire.
After so long, the heavy's tommy started to click, and Pete began readying another round of ammunition.
Mickey was upon him, and bashed him with the shield, knocking Pete backwards against a building and getting a cheer from the crowd that watched him.
"So, dat's how it's gonna be?" Pete grumbled.
Taking his gun in his hands, Pete squeezed, twisted, and flattened it into the shape of a long, black blade, at least three times the size of the blacksmith tongs Mickey carried.
Reaching to his side, Pete ripped the door off the building next to him, and held it before himself.
"Have at ya, runt!" Pete shouted.
"En garde, knave!" Mickey retorted, and ran forward.
Pete puffed his cigar, making a chugging noise as he did so. The chugging noise sped up as Pete ran forward, his mismatched feet picking up steam. Soon, he charged with the force of a runaway freight train, as his cigar billowed like a smokestack.
"Somepony, help that little guy!" one pony in the crowd shouted.
"He's going to be destroyed!" Rarity gasped.
Mickey held his makeshift shield in front of himself, ready to thrust and parry whatever blows Pete would rain down on him.
Not so, as Mickey's shield bent under the force of Pete's charge, and sent the mouse flying back to the smithy. However, Pete's shield had been splintered.
Pete glowered at his shredded, useless shield, and tossed it aside. He reached into his jacket, and produced another stick of dynamite.
Mickey had just recovered from the blow, and looked up to see sizzling dynamite thrown before him.
Thinking quickly, Mickey grabbed an iron kettle from the smithy, and contained the explosion
Mickey jumped when the force of the dynamite shook the ground beneath him.
An idea occurred to Pete, who took a fistful of dynamite out of his jacket, tied the wicks together, applied them to his cigar, and threw them all toward Mickey.
The explosives clattered all around Mickey, who scurried to cover all of them at once, only to find the kettle wasn't big enough to cover them all.
"Wahahahahaha!" Pete laughed, as Mickey was sure to meet his end now.
The sticks of dynamite clattered to Pete's feet.
"Huh!?"
A series of explosions shook the town square, and Pete, Mickey, and a load of hay bales were blown upward.
The hay bales all landed in an arrangement of a square border, and Mickey and Pete landed in opposite corners.
Spike jumped onto one of the hay bales next to Mickey, and started fanning him with a sheet.
"Come on! Get up! The fight's still on!" Spike said.
"Uuuuuuhhhh..." Mickey asked, slightly dazed.
"You need to get up! You're the only one here physically able to!" Rarity said, giving Mickey a cold drink.
"Get up, Mick! That fat sucker's already 'gainst th' ropes!" Goofy said next, as he and Donald helped Mickey up.
"You can do it, Mickey! He's all bark and no bite!" Donald finished.
In the opposite corner, it took Big Bad and five weasels to lift Pete.
"Why ya gotta be so fat!?" Big Bad growled.
"Why ain't you, ya glutton!?" Pete retorted.
Finally, the heavy was on his feet, but his friends weren't done with him.
"Here ya go, boss. A little bitta knuckle power," one weasel said, offering his brass knuckles.
"Tanks, fella," Pete said.
The heavy took one last bite of his leathery strip, and spat it to the side, where the weasel with the bucket on his nose took it right in his face.
"Oh boy. That ain't good," Mickey said, noticing Pete's advantage.
"Don' worry. I got yuh covered," Goofy said, offering two metal buckets for Mickey.
"Are you serious?" Twilight asked. "Spike, go to Bulk Biceps' gym, and get some gloves for--Mickey?"
"Yeah, that's right," Mickey affirmed. "But, I don't need 'em. I got all I need right here."
Mickey indicated the buckets on his hands, and ran into the ring.
"Ohhhh! He's going to get clobbered!" Twilight groaned, biting her lip.
"I can't watch!" Fluttershy said, covering her eyes.
"Don't you girls worry about Mickey. He's scrappier than he looks," Donald assured the mares.
The fight was on.
Mickey and Pete rushed to the center of the ring, and circled one another.
Pete swung with a left and a right, both parried by Mickey's buckets.
Quick as a wink, Mickey placed a bucket on the ground, stood on top of it, jumped, and punched Pete in the jaw.
The heavy stumbled backwards, and Mickey kicked the bucket on the ground forward.
Pete fell down, and landed sitting on the bucket.
Mickey ran forward, and punched Pete again, sending him rolling back to his corner.
A thunder of cheers erupted, and Pete was helped up again.
"You see what that mouse just did? You haven't got a chance!" one pony said.
Big Bad snarled at the pony, cleavers drawn.
"RAH!!"
The pony screamed, and ran away from the glutton.
Pete was done playing fair. He knew that he was always at his most powerful when he fought dirty, and that's exactly what he was going to do.
Mickey retrieved his bucket and ran to Pete, fists up.
Pete retaliated by sucking in his gut then thrusting it forward, knocking Mickey down.
With the mouse on the ground, Pete jumped high into the air and came crashing down, cracking the ground under his feet when Mickey rolled out of the way.
Pete inhaled deeply, turning his cigar to ash, and bellowed out a cloud of black smoke right at Mickey.
Mickey coughed, and swung blindly in the haze, hoping he'd hit Pete.
Pete thrust his fist into the smoke cloud, sending Mickey flying out and into his corner.
"That's alright, Mick! Ya still got some fight in yuh!" Goofy said.
"I wish I could get it outta me..." Mickey groaned.
The mouse stood up, and readied to fight again.
"Hold on there!" a voice said.
Mickey turned, and Applejack took the buckets off his hands.
She and Rainbow Dash both threw a stack of horseshoes into each of the buckets, then put them back on Mickey's hands.
Mickey's arms fell to his sides under the weight.
"That oughta even the odds," Applejack said.
"Go get him, squeaky," Dash said, and pushed Mickey back into the ring.
Pete kicked with his peg-leg.
Mickey blocked with his buckets, staggering both himself and Pete.
The mouse could feel the extra power of the weight in his punches, though he was slowed down somewhat.
Pete jumped again, and Mickey planted both buckets on the ground, keeping the horseshoes hung around his wrists.
When the heavy landed, his feet ended up stuck in the buckets.
"Ya sneaky little runt!" Pete yelled.
Mickey backpedaled to the edge of the ring, cocked back his elbows, and let fly a series of rapid fire punches, sending his horseshoes flying forward like a machine gun.
Pete was pummeled all over by the projectiles, until Mickey ran out of ammo.
"Hey, fatso! Catch!" Big Bad yelled, throwing Pete one of his cleavers.
Pete caught the blade, shook the buckets off his feet, and raised the knife over his head.
Until the glowing light came to Mickey, and shone next to him.
"What's goin' on? Cut that out!" Mickey said.
Though he couldn’t see it, Pete could tell that there was nothing being drawn from Mickey. With nothing left to gather from the town, it was time to end their fight.
"Hmph. I guess dat's all de magic we're gonna get outta dis place." Pete said. "Yer off de hook fer now, runt. Me an' my pals got business elsewheres."
Beneath the twinkling light, Pete began to glow, and he disappeared into the tiny light.
Big Bad went next, followed by the entourage of weasels.
"Hey! You can't just quit! Get back here and finish gettin' pummeled!" Donald yelled.
The light floated away into the distance.
Nobody there could say where it was going. Only that wherever it went, more malice would be spread. And no one there would be able to stop it.