//------------------------------//
// Chapter 17: The Larcenous Hordes 
// Story: The Magical Quest Starring Mickey Mouse: The Equestrian Adventure 
// by wingdingaling 
//------------------------------//






Chapter 17

The Larcenous Hordes


The foals all sat on the front porch, intently listening to the old mare's story. They were all leaning forward, eagerly awaiting the next part of the tale, until the earth pony colt spoke up.
"I know this story! It's The Goof Knight in the Kingdom of Champions!" the colt said.
"That's right," his grandmother affirmed. "You might also notice some elements from another story. Namely The Larcenous Hordes."
"You mean, those two stories came from the same real adventure? But, the book said the Larcenous Hordes were ponies who robbed jewels and bits."
"Nope. They were weasels who foalnapped ponies from their homes."
"That's terrible! That's worse than stealing money!" the unicorn filly said.
"Well, the real thing is often scarier than what any story says," the old mare answered.
The colt realized that there was something else revealed by his grandmother's words. 
"You've been reading my book, haven't you?" he asked.
"Guilty," the old mare chuckled, "I've always had a sort of knack for adventure stories. Especially now that I'm too old to have any of my own."
"Did you have any adventures when you were younger?" asked the pegasus filly.
"Would you believe me if I told you that I met the Goof Knight himself?"
"You did?" the mare's grandson said, excitedly. "What was he like? When did you meet him? Why didn't you tell me that before?"
"Easy. Easy, grandson. That can all be answered if you listen to more of the story. After all, don't you want to know what happened to Rainbow Dash after those weasels foalnapped her? Or how Pinkie Pie was able to hold her own against them, even though she had no magic?" the old mare asked.
"Yeah. I want to know if they got their magic back," the unicorn filly said.
"Not just yet, filly. That's not for a while. Right now, let's hear how the Goof Knight and Pinkie Pie survived the Larcenous Hordes.
The foals all nodded, and the mare continued her story.





The weasel in front walked forward and brandished his switchblade to Pinkie's nose, making the mare's eyes cross.
"Whadda you boys think? Either one o' these schmoes look like fightin' material?" the weasel asked.
"Fightin' material? That mare looks like nothin' but glue ingredients to me," one of his cohorts answered.
"Now, hang on a second. She ain't--" Goofy said, but got a finger pressed in his nose, before he could finish.
"You say somethin', Mack?" the weasel asked. "Do you have a problem with us threatenin' your friend here?"
"Well, since yuh mention it--" Goofy began.
He was cut off again, when the weasel pinched his nose with two fingers.
"Aw, stuff it. You ain't much for fightin' either. I'm surprised you ain't been put down with all the other sick dogs out there," the weasel with the switchblade said.
"That wuz uncalled for," Goofy said, rather nasally.
"Pfft! Whatever. Boys: get this jerk outta here."
"Goofy!" Pinkie called, before a group of weasels set to slapping a set of armor on her.
"Hwup!!" was all Goofy got to say, before the rest of the weasels picked him up over their heads, carried him to the door and threw him out.
"An' don't come back!" one weasel said.
And the door was slammed shut with a bang.
Goofy picked himself up from the dirt, and shook his dusty face clean.
"I buhleev I had a hat!" the goof said, noting that his hat had fallen off his head when he was picked up. He gasped loudly when he realized something else. "I had a Pinkie too!"
Dash had already disappeared, and he wasn't about to let the same thing happen to his other friend. With a deep breath, Goofy puffed up his chest, stepped backwards for a running start, and charged the door with all his might. "Hold on, Pinkie! Yer pal's a-comin' for yuh!!"
Inside, Pinkie just had a helmet slammed onto her head.
"Hang on a sec'," the lead weasel said. He took the helmet back off of Pinkie's head. "There ya go. You can be a training dummy for all the real fighters around here."
The weasels all laughed loudly. Pinkie wanted nothing more than to pummel them all. She had taken on hordes of enemies before. She had plowed through changelings and diamond dogs like a platter of cupcakes. But, that was when she had her magic. Before, she would have simply swapped places with one of the weasels and blew them away with her party cannon. Now, she was without her one advantage, and nothing could help her.
There was a thunderous slam against the door that shook the whole building. But, the door didn't even open.
"What wuzzat?" asked a weasel.
"Go check an' see," said another.
The weasel who asked went to the door, and swung it wide open. "Who is it--Eh?"
Plastered to the door was the very goof they had just thrown out.
"Ohhhhh..." Goofy moaned.
"You sellin' somethin' or what? You got nothin' we care about, so hit the road!" the weasel said.
The weasel shut the door, but was stopped short when Goofy's arm reached around and grabbed him by the nose. The weasel shouted loudly, and sharply backed away from the door.
Goofy's arm stretched far beyond its normal reach, and began wobbling like an inner tube that was pulled too thin. The front of the goof was slowly peeling off the door, and soon snapped across the room like a stretched inner tube that was let go at one end.
"AH-HOO-HOO-HOO-HOOOOOYYY!!!!!!!"
The goof flew through the room, and crashed into the group of weasels around Pinkie.
Pinkie got caught by Goofy's outstretched arm, and the armor she wore was knocked clean off as she was carried by the goof, before they both crashed into a wall.
"Farrier Muler, you're my hero..." Pinkie said rather woozily, as she was cradled in Goofy's arms.
Her eyes stopped spinning, and she saw the group of weasels standing up.
"One o' you schmucks get those goofs!" the weasel with the switchblade said.
Quick as she could, Pinkie nudged her back behind Goofy and helped him stand up.
"Get 'em, Goofy!" Pinkie ordered, expecting him to protect her as he did back at the Harvest Festival.
"Caulk th' wagon an' ford th' river! We're goin' tuh Tennuh-see, boys!!!" Goofy boldly declared.
One weasel took charge and rushed forward with a lance that he had taken off a wall.
Pinkie ran to the side, leaving Goofy in the path of the weasel's charge. She quickly reached back, and pulled the goof aside by his wrist.
The weasel drove his lance into the wall, and bobbed up and down as his weapon bounced.
Goofy was swung aside, his limp arm lashing out and jabbing another weasel in the face.
Pinkie's head zipped between the reeling weasel and the half-conscious Goofy, and an idea occurred to her with a resounding, "Heeeeeeyyy."
Two weasels ran in from either side.
Pinkie grabbed Goofy's head and pulled it backwards, forcing the goof to lean.
With one foot still on the ground, Goofy's other leg shot out and kicked one weasel in the chin.
Pinkie pushed him forward, and that same leg struck the second weasel in the stomach.
She swung Goofy by his outstretched legs so that he spun in a circle and kicked the next weasel in the face.
The results didn't lie. Pinkie looked at the fallen weasels, and knew she had something going for her right now. All she needed to do was work out the kinks to perfect it.
One weasel grabbed a shield off the wall and used it to stop Goofy's momentum. When the goof was stopped, he swung his shield at Goofy's other leg to trip him.
Pinkie pulled the targeted leg out of the way, and planted the other one on the ground, repeating the process to walk the goof away from the attacking weasel.
The weasel stopped swinging for a moment, and spun his shield like pizza dough. Like pizza dough, the shield spread wider as it was spun in the air, until it was roughly five feet across.
Pinkie knew there was no easy way to dodge the larger weapon. She placed her hooves under Goofy's heels and threw him into the air. Before she could move, the shield struck across her face, making her rattle back and forth like sheet metal before she fell over backwards.
Before the weasel could even snicker, Goofy landed right on top of his head, taking him out of the fight.
The other weasels took weapons off of the walls.
Pinkie sweated profusely at the sight of the armed opponents. She looked up and saw that Goofy was still only half-conscious. In a desperate move, she pulled him down to her eye level and started shaking his head.
"For cupcake's sake, Goofy! Wake up! They're going to kill us!!!" Pinkie shouted.
"Who me? Oh no. I have a bellyache..." Goofy muttered.
The pink mare's ears drooped when she heard that answer.
A weasel raised a halberd and swung it downward.
Pinkie stood both herself and Goofy up, turning their bodies parallel to the swing with their limbs outstretched. Pinkie prompted them both to crouch and stretch parallel to a sword swing from another weasel. Then a third with a morningstar, and a fourth with an ax.
In her mind, Pinkie could hear an accordion playing as she and Goofy danced their hopak between the four swinging weapons. She was doing it. She knew how she and Goofy were going to defeat those meanies.
After the morningstar swung, Pinkie kept Goofy crouching while she jumped onto his back. She danced her hooves about, making the goof spin on his palms with his legs outstretched to trip the surrounding weasels.
A smile spread onto Pinkie's face as the music in her head grew more frantic. She was on her way to defeating them. But, not yet.
The weasels were down, but they sure weren't out.
Pinkie continued her momentum by prodding Goofy forward with a series of dance steps. She and Goofy plowed through three more weasels, knocking them aside like bowling pins, until a weasel with a scythe took a swing at the goof.
Pinkie pulled Goofy back by his shoulders, and pushed him upright to a squatting position. From there, she turned around and bucked one hoof into one side of her friend's flank, then the other hoof into the other side. With every buck, Goofy kicked one leg upward and retracted it, kicking the weasel repeatedly.
"Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!" Goofy said, as he gradually regained consciousness with every kick.
With one last two-legged buck, Goofy planted his palm on the floor and kicked both legs into the weasel's chest.
The weasel was knocked backwards into a suit of armor. The armor fell apart, and the chestpiece fell over the weasel, trapping him inside.
"Pinkie? Did I save yuh yet?" Goofy asked, unaware of what had been happening.
A crossbow bolt between them answered that question for him.
"Stand up and hopak with me!" Pinkie shouted.
"Don't ya need padding fer that?" Goofy asked, before he was thrown to his feet. "Hwup!!"
Goofy felt himself pushed so that one leg strode forward and the toe of his rear foot touched his leading heel. Pinkie mimicked the step exactly with her four hooves and the two successfully dodged another bolt from another archer. The same step was repeated in a different direction to dodge another shot from a third archer.
From their perches atop the boxes, the archers could hardly feel frustrated by their misses. They were having too much fun watching the dance they were instigating.
More bolts rained down on them. Pinkie and Goofy both continued their mad dance, until they were surrounded by the fired ammunition.
Pinkie looked up and saw one of the archers reloading his weapon. Seeing an opportunity, she grabbed Goofy and spun him toward the stack of crates the weasel was on.
Goofy twirled through the air and landed in a kneeling position, his knee bumping and toppling the crates, making the weasel fall.
"WOO-OOW!!!" Goofy shouted, when a bolt was fired behind him, prompting him to run forward on his knees.
The goof was chased around in a circle, while his knees continued to topple the footholds each weasel had. Soon, the archers were taken care of, and he was reunited with Pinkie.
A gang of weasels rushed them.
Pinkie knew that a simple folk dance would not do against them. A new rhythm was called for. She positioned herself behind Goofy, and placed her hooves on his hips, then pushed him forward.
They became a two creature conga line of carnage. Whenever a weasel came close to them, Pinkie leaned Goofy to the appropriate side so that they both kicked their legs out.
Goofy didn't know what Pinkie was doing, but it seemed to be working. In spite of the danger around them, he managed a smile and a short, "A-hyuck."
"That's it! That's it! It's just like a conga line! It's practically a party!" Pinkie thought. She began to sing to herself, "Feel de burn o' tropical heat/ Step in line for conga line beat!"
A calypso tune on steel drums began in her head, as she spun the conga line around, kicking weasels left and right. This was what Goofy had been talking about. This was only the kind of thing she would do at a party. Admittedly, she wasn't able to pull a piñata out of her mane, but this was surely some trace of the magic she had lost.
The tune in Pinkie’s head changed again to a wild ragtime jazz as she guided Goofy's limbs into a mad jitterbug.
"Whoop!--Whoah!--Whup!--Wo-ow!" Goofy shouted as he was sent into the mad dance. Through his movements, he ended up picking up weapons and shields to do battle against the weasels around him.
A sword and shield somehow ended up in his grasp, and Pinkie used them to block a strike from a weasel with a quarterstaff.
Pinkie guided Goofy to twirl his arms in circles to block the weasel's repeated attacks, until the goof made a low swing and cut the weasel at the waist.
The weasel was unharmed, but his belt was slashed in two, which made his pants fall down around his ankles.
The weasel who had the chestpiece of a suit of armor wedged over his upper body rushed in and rammed the goof from behind, sending Goofy flipping into the air. However, he also crashed the open end of the armor into the pantless weasel, wedging him inside as well. Now they were both trapped and out of the fight.
Goofy landed with a painful split, but quickly bounced to his feet, before Pinkie took his hands and started jitterbugging with him. Now, Goofy could hear the music in his head. The Charleston was playing loudly as Pinkie relinquished control of the goof's movements and started dancing all on his own.
The two dancers moved around the storage room, dodging and striking their opponents in perfect tandem.
Goofy flipped a fallen spear into the air, then spun himself so he was back to back with Pinkie. He took her other hoof in his free hand and flipped the mare over his back.
As she flipped, Pinkie kicked two weasels in their faces. In midair, she bucked the blunt end of the spear and sent it flying to pin three weasels to a wall by their collars.
Once they were facing each other again, Pinkie slid Goofy underneath her body, so that he kicked another weasel behind her.
The weasel Goofy kicked toppled backwards into a stack of oil drums labeled 'ARMOR GREASE.' The drum on top wobbled and dropped to the floor, its lid popping off and spilling its contents all over the floor.
It was pandemonium. Nobody could keep their footing, and were sent into a mess of flailing limbs and splashing grease.
Goofy spun his arms in circles as his feet slipped and wobbled about. He reached down and caught Pinkie before she fell into the grease, and tried using her as a handhold.
Pinkie, however, had another idea.
She used Goofy to steady herself, took his hands in her hooves and pushed them both through the grease.
Their respective feet and hooves slid through the grease like a pair of figure skaters, and flourished with a spin from the two. Goofy touched his toes to Pinkie's hooves and the two leaned back, making them both spin around, knocking down any of the weasels that tried to stand up.
One weasel that had been pinned to the wall by the spear in his shirt collar managed to reach a loaded crossbow from a crate, and took aim at the dancers.
Goofy saw the weasel taking aim. He lifted Pinkie up and tossed her into the air toward the danger.
Pinkie spun with a glorious triple axle, then landed with an angel pose that knocked the weasel’s crossbow out of his hands. She wasn't done, as she bent the end of the spear and let go.
The spear twanged up and down, shaking the weasels stuck on it and knocking their heads together until they were unconscious.
The pink mare giggled gleefully as she slid back to her dance partner and placed her hooves in his hands again. This time, Pinkie lifted the goof over her head.
Goofy thrusted his legs out straight and spread his arms like wings, allowing Pinkie to spin him around and knock down many weasels and other crates.
One crate was labeled 'PADDING' and what spilled out when it broke was nothing but a bunch of sawdust that spilled over the floor. The sawdust absorbed the grease and put friction back on the floor, effectively stopping Pinkie and Goofy's dance.
"It's over already? We were just getting to the big finish," Pinkie moaned.
"Sure wuz sum party, though," Goofy answered as he placed his feet back on the ground.
Pinkie's eyes lit up when Goofy affirmed what she had been thinking earlier. It really was just like a party. Only with weapons and meanies.
"Awwww, Goofy!" Pinkie said, as she jumped up and hugged the goof like he was a giant-sized cupcake.
"Don't mention it..." Goofy strained under the pressure of Pinkie's hooves.
"Aw! Willya lookit dis! You jerks can't even handle a couple o' goofs like them!?" asked a new voice.
Cheet Ripov had walked into the room, and he was not pleased with what he saw.
"Who knocked down all these boxes!? You think that grease is cheap!? One o' you's gonna pay for it, an' all the sawdust ya wasted cleanin' it up!! An' what happened to that guy's pants!?"
"It wasn't exactly a thought out plan, boss," the pantsless weasel's voice echoed from inside the armor his head was stuck in.
"Eh, zip it, beef brain!" Ripov said. A new idea occurred to him, and he walked up to greet Pinkie and Goofy. "Hiya, sweetheart. Long time no see."
"Skip th' small talk an' tell us why yer here," Goofy said.
"Cuttin' right to the point, eh? Alright, I'll be honest with ya: I sent ya here plannin' on ya bein' picked up by our, er...recruitin' team. Figured you two would be good meat for the battle royale later today."
"You were going to have us foalnapped for some game where we get creamed by that monster horse? You've reached a new low, Ripoff," Pinkie espoused.
"You think this's just some game?" Ripov said. "You must not be familiar with the Trottingham Hastlitude. It's kinda complicated, so I'll give ya the short version. See, every year they have this party in this one-horse dump. But, if the king dies an' there's no heir, they have the Hastlitude to pick a new leader.
"But, the king of Trottingham isn't dead," Pinkie said.
"Ya'd think so," Ripov chuckled.
Not much lit the dim bulb that was Goofy's brain, but he glowered at Ripov’s implication.
"Anyhoo: the boss came in shortly after the king had his untimely end, saying that since he was the strongest guy, an’ him bein’ the only one with magic, he was the only one fit to rule. Problem is, the ponies 'round here are kinda big on tradition. They said that they would never accept him as their king, since the crown could only go to the winner of the Hastlitude. Now, you chumps saw Rex, so I'm sure you know he could easily have flattened any schmoe in his way. Problem was that the crown's always kept hid after a king dies. This was a bit of a problem, so Rex decides that he's gonna enter the Hastlitude to get that crown, whether they want it or not."
Both Pinkie's and Goofy's ears had begun to droop around the middle of Ripov’s explanation. Now, both their ears were as low as they could get.
"Goofy, we can't let that monster horse become the king!" Pinkie said.
"Durn tootin'. It's only gunna be trubble if any o' these bad guys wins," Goofy answered.
Ripov smiled deviously.
"Tell ya what: you chumps sign up, an' I'll see to it you got a shot at the crown," he said.
"Yeah? Whut's th' catch?" Goofy asked.
"No catch. All ya need is some gear an' your good to go."
"Can you get us some gear?" Pinkie asked.
"Sure. For a price, o’ course," the weasel answered.
"What would we pay you for? What about all of this stuff in here?" Pinkie wondered, indicating all of the weapons and armor in the room.
"Uh..." the weasel thought for a moment, "That stuff's all for ponies. We're gonna need to send out for some weapons an' armor for your buck-toothed pal there. An' that's gonna cost a small retainer fee."
"Aw, come on. I know muh teeth ain't in th' best shape, but whut's a ruhtainer s'posed tuh do tuh get me in this Hassley-tood?" Goofy asked.
Ripov dragged his hand down his face, making his long weasel nose bounce up and down.
"I'm askin' ya for some compensation to get ya inta this tournament, stupid. We need some gear in the 'mill-yoo' of a tall, gangly doofus with a size thirteen schnoz. Now: pay up or you don't fight," he snapped.
"Don't do it, Goofy. He's trying to scam us again," Pinkie warned. "There has to be another way to get into this tournament, besides this guy. Some super-duper secret way, like a kindhearted judge, or a royal decree. Or some secret, underground, black market deal to get the kind of armor you don't find in stores!"
"Is this alright?" Goofy asked, as he offered his wallet.
"Goofy!!!"
"Dunno. Let's give it a shake-see," Ripov said, as he turned the wallet upside-down and shook it. All that fell out was a single nickel, which Ripov caught. "You clowns tryin' to take me for a ride?"
"You're the only clown here, mister! And nopony's getting in your itty-bitty car for a ride!" Pinkie accused, as she snatched the nickel and wallet back.
"So, that's it, eh? How 'bout I put it this way: if ya wanna see your friend again, you're taking that ride, sister," Ripov said, as he snatched the nickel back. "She's already been signed up as a fighter. An' if ya want into the tournament with her, you're gonna have to pony up the rest of the payment."
What the weasel said struck a chord to Pinkie. If she wanted Rainbow Dash back, she was going to have to play along with him. With a defeated groan, Pinkie reached into her mane and produced something for Ripov.
"There. That's all I'm giving up for you," Pinkie said, placing her payment in the weasel's hand.
Ripov looked in his hand, and what he thought was a bill turned out to be an empty candy wrapper. Normally, he would have grilled Pinkie for the full amount he demanded, but another devious thought occurred to him.
"Alright. This should cover it. A nickel an' a candy wrapper's worth of armor an' weapons, comin' up," the weasel said, before running off in a brown blur.
Pinkie took the candy that the wrapper came from out of her mane, and popped it into her mouth.
"Meanie-pants," she said, after Ripov left.
"Well, he did say he was gonna help us out. An' I suppose he's only as good as his word," Goofy said.
Unfortunately, Ripov didn't have such a good word.
"Here ya are!" the weasel said, as he returned in another blur with an armload of supplies. "Armor fit for a champ. Try it on, stud. Impress the crowds. Make the champ reel. Ya might even woo a mare or two."
Goofy picked up a piece of the armor and examined it carefully.
"Hm...Sum'n wrong here. Ain't this a washboard?" he asked.
"Naw, naw naw. That there's er...a chest plate. Ya know: for protectin' all your squishy parts from outside hazards,'' Ripov answered.
"That's funny. 'Cuz all this armor looks like yuh jus' got it from that phony booth yuh set up."
"Look pal, I can promise ya, on her grave--" Ripov said, pointing to Pinkie, "--that stuff is the best protection you're gonna get this side of a Sherman tank. Lemme show ya."
In the blink of an eye, Ripov whirred himself all around Goofy as he fitted him with the scrapyard armor. When he was done, Goofy was clad head to toe in household supplies.
His chest was covered by a washboard, and his back was covered by a metal washtub. Tin soap dishes adorned his shoulders. Scouring pads and sponges were taped around his elbows and knees. His hands were covered by a pair of leather work gloves. As for his legs, only his shins were covered by what looked like umbrella stands with the bottoms popped off. Finally, a metal bucket was plopped over his head, but not completely, as his nose was allowed to stick out.
Then came the weapons. Goofy was given all manner of tools for combat: a mop was placed in his hand. A box of powdered detergent was stuck into his pocket. A broom was stuck down the back of his shirt. Finally, a plunger and a feather duster were stuck into his belt.
"Voila! There's our future champ," Ripov said.
"Where? I don't see him," Goofy said, as he groped about with his hands.
"How's he supposed to see with that thing on his head?" Pinkie said.
"Hm..." Ripov pondered.
The weasel took a pencil out of his pocket and set to work drawing a pair of misshapen eyes on Goofy's bucket. Not an elegant solution, but it was no skin off his back.
"Alright. That's that. You goofs follow me to the lounge with all the other chumps--er, challengers," Ripov said, before snickering suspiciously.
Pinkie walked after the weasel, while Goofy used his mop like a blind man's walking stick. It did no good as he ended up walking into a wall anyway when he missed tapping the corner with his mop. Pinkie doubled back and guided Goofy by his hand.
The two of them were led down the halls toward a door with a heavy padlock.
"Hum...Bit of a roadblock here. Hang on," Ripov muttered, as he took a bent paperclip out of his pocket and started picking the lock. There was a quiet click and the lock came undone. The weasel opened the door and motioned for the others to go in. "Head on in. An' be careful around some o' these new recruits. They're kinda sensitive and prone to crying."
As he walked in, Goofy hit his head on the low doorway.
"D'oh!!" he yelped.
The door was closed behind them, and Pinkie found them both in a room that hardly looked like any lounge she was in when she visited Applejack or Rainbow Dash before their competitions. The floor and the walls were made of gray concrete. There were weapon racks on the walls, along with mounts for armor to be placed, and many benches. Sitting on those benches were a number of other ponies. Pinkie recognized some of them as ones she saw departing from the metal carriage earlier.
Some of the ponies were scraped and bruised, like the kind of injuries one expected to see from a jousting match. Others were completely battered, broken and bedridden. They were likely the ones who had challenged Rex. However, most of them were completely unharmed, but looked extremely frightened.
At the end of the room, Pinkie heard a sound like pounding hooves. Looking to the source, she saw a familiar blue pegasus with a rainbow mane beating against a locked door.
"You can't keep us in here! As soon as this door opens, you jerks are going down!" Dash shouted.
"Dashie!!" Pinkie shouted and ran across the room.
Dash turned around, and smiled for the first time since she was put in that room.
"Pinkie!" Dash greeted, as she received her friend with a tight hug.
"Rainbow Dash!" Goofy called when he heard his friend's voice. He tried to walk forward, but as he was still blinded bumped into the edge of a bench and fell over forward. He ended up landing upside-down, with the bucket on his head planted firmly on the ground. But, that didn't stop him from reaching out and hugging his lost friend. "Dash, we found yuh!"
"Uh...my name's Bullseye," said the stallion Goofy was embracing.
"Oops," was all Goofy said, as he released the pony, "Could yuh point me to a blue birdie-horse with a snazzy mane?"
"Over here, Goof," Dash said, as she gently rotated Goofy to face her and greeted him with a hug. After the reunion, Dash and Pinkie tipped the goof over so that he was sitting on the ground. "Another bucket? How do you get into these things?"
Dash and Pinkie went about trying to pull the bucket off of Goofy's head, while the crowd of ponies looked on at the strange dog-like creature in the room with them.
"What is that? A diamond dog?" one pony asked.
"No. He looks too goofy to be a diamond dog," another pony answered.
"He looks just like the other one," one of the ponies said.
The bucket had just started to slip from Goofy's head when the room began to shake.
"He's coming!!" one of the bedridden ponies shouted, before taking cover under his cot.
There was a loud rumbling noise and the wall began to crack.