//------------------------------//
// A Matter of Life and Death 
// Story: Mind and Matter 
// by Sixes_And_Sevens 
//------------------------------//

Fluttershy frowned as she accompanied Discord and their daughter to the hospital. “Oh dear… is your friend alright?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, Lucy’s great. She’s just... er…” Screwball trailed off, embarrassed.
“Oh, tell the story, Screwy!” Discord grinned. “Ooh, it’s a good one!”
Screwball winced. “Par, no,” she implored, but it was too late. 
Already, the chaos god had summoned out a collection of photo albums and was gleefully flipping through them. “Now, here’s Screwy when she was just born… and here’s her first birthday… first day of school…” 
“Par, stop.”
“Wasn’t she just the sweetest thing? Look, here she is in her school play.” Discord pointed at a picture. Fluttershy looked. She stared. She could not stop staring. Her ears began to ring as cruel whispers echoed through her skull, speaking in a language that she had never heard yet somehow inherently understood deep in the back of her brain, whispering to her words of fear and power. She felt her eyeballs vibrating, about to liquify and burst. “She was the high priestess of Hob’r-fynkyll,” Discord said cheerfully. “And the filly next to her? That was her first friend, Screwloose. Her parents sold their souls to the Ancient Ones so that their family might live forever.”
“O-oh,” Fluttershy muttered, blinking rapidly. “Um, what happened to them?”
“Huh. I don’t remember,” Discord frowned. “I want to say… they went into politics?”
“And that’s the friend we’re going to go see.”
“In a manner of speaking,” Screwball said, closing the cover of the scrapbook firmly. “C’mon. I’ll bet she missed me.”
Turning, the pink mare strode briskly through the hospital doors, Discord and Fluttershy not far behind.




The atrium of the Ponyville General Hospital was cool and bright, with white tiled floors and deep green walls. The hot pink mare stood out like a sore thumb. She trotted up to the desk. “I’m here to check out Screwloose,” she said briskly.
Nurse Redheart paused in the middle of her paperwork. “Excuse me?”
“Screwloose. The first patient this hospital ever had.”
Redheart frowned. “Well, even if she could be released to your care, I’d need your name and some proof of identification…”
“Of course. My card.”
Discord leaned close to Fluttershy. “What do you think? Playing cards or tarot?”
Screwball produced a small white business card. Discord's face fell, clattering as it hit the tile floor. Redheart picked it up and squinted at it. “This is very small writing.”
“It’s a very small card. My name is Screwball, professional force of nature with a degree in the fine arts. You might know my parent.” She waved a hoof at Discord, who was reattaching their face with Fluttershy's aid. “I was the one who checked Lucy in when I went away to college. Now, I’m here to pick her back up.”
The nurse set down the card and scrutinized Screwball. “You realize that officially, there is no such mare as the one whom you just named.”
“Not any more, no,” the pink mare replied.
“Unofficially…” Redheart raised an eyebrow. “Room 27. Follow me.”
Screwball nodded and set off after the other mare. “You have been keeping to the list of instructions I left, right?”
“Not personally, no,” Redheart replied crisply. "I'm not that old. But, yes, with some adjustments according to her medical needs over the last millennium, she's been cared for quite well. You're sure you can handle her?”
“Quite.”
Fluttershy glanced at Discord, confused. “What are they—”
“You’ll see.”
Redheart unlocked a door and let it swing to. Screwball smiled, and for the first time that Fluttershy had seen, it actually reached her eyes. “Hey, girl,” she cooed. “Hey, Lucy…”
There was an excited bark, and suddenly a blur of blue. “Whoa! Hey! Down, girl!” Screwball laughed. “No, no, not the tongue, not the tongue! Ack!”
Fluttershy stared, aghast. Redheart sighed, annoyed. Discord sniggered, amused. And Screwball sat up, rubbing a grey-maned mare behind the ears. “Fluttershy, meet Screwloose, the dog in the body of a mare.”
The yellow pegasus stared, processing this. “You mean… literally.”
“Yes,” said Screwball.
“Woof!” said Screwloose, thumping her tail against the ground.
Fluttershy thought about this for a long moment. “...Why?”
“Screwloose didn’t like the idea of being immortal,” Screwball said, rubbing the mare behind the ears. “I mean, it sounds great, but it’s not all that it’s cracked up to be. Think about it. You just live on and on forever, everything else dying around you. Pretty miserable.”
“Oh,” Fluttershy said quietly. She glanced nervously from one immortal to the other. “Um…”
Discord grinned toothily. “Oh, well, it’s not quite so dull for us, of course. We keep ourselves entertained, and so do the alicorns. But if you haven’t got phenomenal cosmic powers to play with, well…”
“She wanted to become mortal,” Screwball continued. “However, given that I was just about the only one she trusted to do that, and given that my powers extend only as far as the mind, there was only one option.”
Fluttershy frowned. “Switch her mind with that of a dog?”
“Yeah. I suggested a cat, but she liked the idea of being a dog better. Anyway, dogs really don’t have much of a sense of time, so they can’t really get bored with eternal life.”
The yellow pegasus absorbed this. “So… immortality. Is this a… common thing?”
“Not any more,” Discord replied. “Let’s just say I’m not the only one Sunbutt and Moon Moon sealed away, and I’m far from the worst of the bunch.”
Fluttershy frowned. “I—”
“But that’s a tale for another day,” Discord said quickly. They glanced over to the wall on their left. “Specifically, sometime in season two,” they hissed. "Hint, hint!"
Screwball sighed. “Parent. Must you?”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Discord sniffed, tilting their nose firmly toward the stratosphere.
“Your fourth-wall addiction is getting out of hoof and you know it.”
“I can quit anytime I want. I just don’t want to.”
Screwball stared at her parent for several long seconds, her expression weary. Then she shrugged. “Fine,” she said flatly. “You do you. Come on, Lucy, let’s go walkies.”
“WOOF!”
The blue mare bolted off, Screwball hot on her hooves. Discord watched them go with the sort of expression that suggested a hard punch to the gut. Fluttershy looked up at her friend nervously. “What’s wrong?”
“Wrong? Wrong?” Discord blinked. Their mouth twitched up into a grin. “Why, nothing at all, my dear Flutterduster. My daughter is home, her dog is back, and all is well with the world.” They threw an arm around the yellow pegasus. “I feel like lunch! Or possibly dinner. No, let’s just skip straight through to dessert, how about that?”
Fluttershy frowned. “We just ate,” she said. “Discord, tell me what’s wrong.”
“Hmph! If you don’t want dessert, fine! I’ll go to the ice cream dimension all on my own.” They clicked their fingers and vanished in a cold burst of air.
Fluttershy stared at the place he had been standing for a few seconds more, then turned away, her features stoic. One way or another, she vowed silently, I will figure out what’s going on… 




Screwball and Lucy drew a few stares as they trotted down the streets of Ponyville, but not very many. Most of the ones they got were only vaguely curious, and the rest were from fellow dog walkers. One grey mare with a beagle fell into step with Screwball. She glanced at the blue mare occasionally, frowning slightly. Eventually, Screwball spoke. “Something wrong about my dog?”
“Hm?” the mare blinked deep violet eyes. “Oh! Excuse me. I just thought I’d seen her around Ponyville before. But not you?”
“Yeah. College. No dogs allowed in the dorms.”
“Ah.” The grey mare smiled. “I remember my old college days,” she said wistfully. “Full of debauchery, drinking, and dancing… and then there were the weekends!”
She held out a hoof. “Octavia. Octavia Melody.”
“Screwball. This is Lucy. What’s his name?” She nodded at the little beagle.
“Forty. Short for Fortissimo, you see,” Octavia said. “So, you’re just back from college?”
“Yep.”
“Been away long?”
“A good thousand years.”
Octavia paused. “Do you mean that… literally?”
“Yeah. You might know my parent, the spirit of chaos and disharmony?”
The grey mare stopped midstride. “Discord. You’re… Discord’s daughter.”
Screwball screwed her eyes shut. Dammit, Par! I’m trying to make friends here! Why couldn’t you have been something normal, like a hippie, or a creepy janitor?
“That,” Octavia said slowly, “is brill.”
Wait. What? ***Screwball.exe_has_encountered_a_fatal_error***Redo_From_Start*** “Brill… that’s… good? Right?” she asked.
Octavia nodded, grinning broadly. “I’ll be honest, I wasn’t much a fan of theirs at first,” she admitted. “I mean, they did turn all my catgut strings into actual cats, and turned my tail hair into bowstrings.”
Screwball winced. “Oh. Uh. Sorry about that.”
“Ooh, I wanted to give them a punch right up the hooter, and no mistake!” A flash of some old vicious emotion crossed Octavia’s features for a second, and then was gone. “Ahem. Excuse me. Anyway, the second time they got out wasn’t much better. Not at first, at any rate. Then, once Fluttershy managed to reform them a tad, well, they became more amusing than anything.” She grinned. “I particularly liked the grand cloud ballet they put on for Fluttershy’s birthday.”
Screwball massaged her brow. “Oh. My. Nyarlathotep. And they claim they aren’t in love with her.”
Octavia punched her lightly on the shoulder. “I know! The whole town has a betting pool on who’s finally gonna confess, and when. Personally, my money’s on Discord in ten years. The wife says Fluttershy, on her deathbed, but that’s Vinyl for you. Sweet, but a tad... y’know. Her idea of Romance involves windswept moors and ghosts.”
Screwball considered this. “Where can I sign up for this pool?”
“Pinkie Pie is running it. She’ll be at Sugarcube Corner, I think. Even if she’s not, you ought to go see it. They’ve got brilliant pastries. Oh, and there it is!”
Screwball turned her head. Screwball stared. Screwball’s lip twisted. “My par’s work, I take it?”
“No, it’s always been like that,” Octavia said, smiling cheerfully. “Anyhow, I’d best get gone. Vinyl’s probably wondering where I’ve got to. Nice to meet you, Screwball!”
The pink mare watched Octavia go. Her lips twitched up in a smile. “Nice to meet you, too, Octavia,” she said softly.




Sugarcube Corner. Tacky name, tacky decor, but if what Octavia said was true, there would be some good food, as well as a betting pool and a mare who had earlier attracted Screwball’s attention. “What do you think, Lucy?”
“Woof!” said Screwloose, her tongue lolling happily.
Screwball smiled thinly. “In we go, then.”
There was a faint chime as they entered the shop. Screwball glanced around. The interior was marginally less cheesy than the exterior, at least. More importantly, however, the smell of fresh pastries was overwhelming and delicious. A frizzy-maned pink mare stood at the counter, clad in apron and toque. Her face lit up brilliantly when she recognized the customer. Or possibly that was her normal expression. “Hi, Screwy!” she called, waving her over to the counter. “Who’s your friend?”
A slim smile crossed Screwball’s face once more. “This is Screwloose. She’s my dog.”
“Woof!” said Screwloose.
Pinkie considered this for a moment. Then she grinned. “Okie-dokie-lokie!” she said. “Oo’s a good puppy, den. Oo is it? Is it you? Yes it is! Yes it is!”
Screwloose’s tail thumped firmly on the floor several times. “So, is this your bakery?” Screwball asked, glancing around. It certainly seemed to suit the mare’s personality.
“No, I just work here,” Pinkie replied. “The Cakes own the bakery.”
“The Cakes?”
“Yup! Mr. and Mrs. Cake, and the twins. Well, the twins don’t actually own the bakery, they’re too little. But they might one day!”
“Hm.” Screwball trotted over to the counter, absently dropping Lucy’s leash. “What would you recommend I try?”
“We~ll,” Pinkie said thoughtfully. 
Screwball’s ears pricked up as she heard a distant trumpet fanfare. Pinkie opened her mouth once more, much wider now. Screwball’s eyes went wide as the mare began to sing… 


The-e-e-re’s a lot of options on display, I hope that all will please!


We’ve got cakes made with chocolate frosting, we’ve got cakes made with cream cheese.


We’ve got cupcakes by the dozen and cookies by the gross


But I’ll search them all to find the treat that you would like the most...AH!



What would suit your palate best? Chocolate, vanilla, or fruit?


We’ve got berries from a hundred plants, and a good few more to boot.


You can eat ‘em raw, or in a pie, or with fresh cream more-ova!


But the way I think they taste the best is in a nice Pavlova!



We’ve got croissants, if you’d prefer, or eclairs filled with cream,


Napoleons and elephant ears, both taste like a dream!


Or if you would prefer it, I’ll rustle up some pies,


Choose your favorite filling, or else it’s a SURPRISE!



Try the cinnamon rolls, this morning all baked fresh.


Eat it with a maple cupcake 'cause the flavors really mesh!


There are cookies oatmeal raisin or cookies chocolate chip


Pink or yellow lemonade! Here, come and have a sip.



That’s all that’s on the menu, that’s all we have today,


I hope that you will buy something before you go on your way!


For we’ve cupcakes by the dozen and cookies by the gross


But the thing that I’d like most of all is to find what you would like the most.


There was a long moment of silence. “Uh… did you just come up with that?” Screwball asked.
Pinkie beamed. “Mhm!”
“I… wow.” She let out a light exhalation. “Jeez. I’m, you know, the personification of raw creative force and everything, but…Yog-Sothoth. That was impressive. I’ll have that maple cupcake you mentioned, I guess?”
“Okie-dokie!” Pinkie chirped. “Oh! Hi, Mrs. Cake.”
The rotund blue mare that had just exited the kitchen smiled warmly at the exuberant pink mare. “Hello, Pinkie. Made a new friend?” She suddenly fell silent at the sight of a grey tail sticking out from beneath a table.
Screwball smiled. It was a tight, slightly forced smile, but the effort was there. “Nice to meet you, ma’am,” she said with a nod. The smile grew more forced when the other mare didn’t respond. “Is… something wrong?”
Mrs. Cake’s face was a picture. Her emotions engaged in battle royale across her features. At length, her face as ashen as a fireplace, she whispered hoarsely, “Please leave my bakery.”
Screwball’s brow narrowed in confusion. “Why? What’s—” she followed the elder mare’s line of sight to Screwloose, who was sniffing at the trashcan, her leash dragging behind her. Her tail was wagging fiercely. “Oh,” said Screwball. “Ohh… Okay. Yeah, that’s my bad. I should’ve figured there would be a ‘No Dogs Allowed’ rule anywhere food is being sold. Sorry, I’ll go tie her up outside.”
Mrs. Cake’s face contorted. “In… public?” she gaped.
Screwball blinked. “Well… yeah. Are there any leash laws I should know about?”
“I— I—” The blue mare’s face went bright pink. She looked over at her employee for support. “Pinkie?”
The pink pony cocked her head thoughtfully. “...Nope! But there is a speed limit for tortoises, and something about not allowing rabbits to buy blunt instruments. Also something about arming bears? But, nope, nothing much about puppies. Does she want a biscuit?”
Screwball nodded. “That’d be good. Something with peanut butter. No—”
“No chocolate, I know,” Pinkie said. “Hoooold on.” She swooshed into the kitchen, leaving Cup Cake alone with Screwball and Lucy.
The rotund baker eyed the two. Screwball nodded. “I’ll get her tied up,” she promised. “Hey, Lucy! Luuucy.”
The grey-maned mare’s head popped up, her tongue lolling. “Come, girl! Come on. Come on!” the pink mare crooned, backing toward the door. Screwloose turned tail and galloped toward her mistress. Together, they trotted out the door. Mrs. Cake shuddered and trotted quickly toward the stairs. Carrot could come deal with this. She needed to lie down for an hour or two.