The squishing beneath her hooves grew tiring, and though she had not gotten used to flying, Sunset kept herself flapping above the pink frosted ground. The Not-So-Bad-Badlands was certainly an interesting place. “This seems like the perfect setting to find Pinkie Pie. A dessert desert.” She found talking to herself was better than succumbing to loneliness. She missed the partnership that Sombra brought, though she did not miss the stallion. It was hard to be unhappy in a place so deliciously colorful, but somehow, Sunset found a way.
After tasting a nibble of muffin bush, a muffin in the shape of a bush, she found that most of the food-related scenery was edible, though some were tarter than others. She did not care for the bitterness that accompanied every swallow, but she forced herself to eat to keep well. The bump on her head from the pelting of beads had been an unpleasant experience. I don’t look forward to heading back north once I find Pinkie Pie. She didn’t know how she was going to locate the pink party pony, nor did she think to wonder if she would even recognize the mare. The Element of Laughter looked positively normal in the previous world, though her appearance in the first and third had been startling.
Crossing underneath a canopy of string cheese, Sunset made it to one of the many pillars transformed into ice cream cones. They were specifically waffle cones, though Sunset certainly didn’t recognize a difference. They were just as tall as she remembered, and would be hard to climb if she had no wings. Discord was nice enough to give me my magic, a pair of wings, and information on going back to the last world. If he is the same Discord, which I seriously doubt, then maybe he can be convinced to help me. If he’s not, maybe I can convince him to help me anyway. She trailed around the side of the cone pillar. In certain angles, she could look up and see ice cream scoops hanging partially over the side. If there was something up there, she needed to know.
A few hard flaps and she treaded up the cone, her eyes widening as she came across an open hole within the waffle shell. There had been caves cut into the red earth of the Badland’s pillars, and these Not-So-Bad-Badlands remained identical. Checking it out, she found the cave was surrounded by walls of ice cream, the inside was freezing cold. As she traipsed into the darkness, she remembered that magic was once again in her possession. “Ahhh, that’s better,” she said to herself, her horn filling the ice cream tunnel with light. She could even see her breath as it left her mouth, a trail of steam evaporating into the cold void.
The almost subzero ice cream beneath her hooves was a strong deterrent to going too far into the frozen tunnel, though she made it a fair distance into the heart of the pillar. When she gave up and turned around, she lit a wall that had gone unnoticed. On the side was writing. Not the kind you’d find in a sophisticated novella, but it was legible. Her eyes took to studying the chicken scratch, which was done with a spoon that sat dug into the wall at the end of the sentence. She read it aloud: “Burn the living room, burn the kitchen, burn the bedroom and the bathroom. What is left?”
“The attic? Basement? Hallway?” she offered a few guesses, but no answer came.
Confused and annoyed by the cold nipping at her hooves, she chose to continue out. When she reached the light of the outside world, she dimmed her horn and steadied herself on the edge. Looking over the land revealed no other life. No smokestacks, no moving bodies, no treading carts that meandered around a watering hole—though it would be a chocolate milk hole in this crazy land. Her eyes trailed up to the top of the ice cream cone, but a surprise jostled her back into the tunnel. When nothing moved after her, Sunset treaded cautiously back into the light. “Who are you?” Sunset asked the pony. However, she recognized the mare after asking the question. It was the pony who Discord noted when Sunset first arrived. Her swirly eyes stared back at Sunset, though she made no attempt to move. A sweet, rather disturbing smile ran from cheek to cheek. Most importantly, the mare somehow stood on the ice cream cone, a flat ninety-degree angle, all without wings or a unicorn horn.
The pony did not answer Sunset’s question, no matter how many times Sunset asked it. Sunset even asked several different questions, and though the pony did not seem to ignore her, she did not answer Sunset either. “Oh-kay, I’m just going to go now.”
Diving off the cave, Sunset glided as quickly as she could, hoping that the strange mare was not following her. Her shadow stretched over the land as she got used to flying. Heading for the next cone pillar, this time the tiptop, she hoped to find anyone, though she preferred someone who could speak. If there was no life in the valley of the Not-So-Bad-Badlands, then surely there would be atop the pillars. The cold winds struck her muzzle, chattering her teeth. Pistachio ice cream scoops were this pillar’s flavor of choice, the sea foam green coloring was offset by the orange and brown pretzel sticks that stood as tall as the Golden Oak Library. Of course, these pretzel sticks did not have the leaves the library did, so she could see that the entire pillar held about thirty to forty of the salted snack.
Crossing to the closest pretzel trunk, she ran a hoof across the ‘bark’, feeling the tough shell. Sunset thought about taking a bite, but she preferred the soft pretzels you’d see sold on sticks at sporting events or medieval fairs. As she debated, a voice yelled at her. “Don’t you eat my home!” the male commanded, causing her to throw a look in every direction. A set of peppermint candies whapped her in the face, forcing her eyes to the sky. She realized then the salt that clung to the sticks were nothing more than mirages. Her brain had seen the transparent, round windows and assumed they were large bits of sodium, which sparingly coated pretzel snacks. “Go away, freak!” he yelled from the window, and Sunset barely managed to dodge another handful of peppermint candies.
“Hey! Excuse me!” Sunset called, floating up to the window. “I’m looking for my friend and was wondering if you could help me.”
“Nice trick—I’ve heard that one before!” The voice caught a lump in its throat halfway through its sentence, causing an extravagant amount of coughing. Sunset tried to peer in through the window to see the person, but the voice had moved away. However, they did not lock the window. Pressing into the frame, Sunset peeked her head into the cozy room that sat within the pretzel stick house. There was no one. With her body half in, half out, she took a look at the décor. Licorice carpeting, a dresser made of chocolate chip cookies, a wafer floor lamp with a candy bar lampshade, and a bed made out of half of an avocado—the pit was missing. Whoever lived here would surely never starve.
A few sharp pains in Sunset’s rump caused her to yelp and knock her head into the window frame. Rubbing her new bruise that sat only inches from her old, she pulled away to see what stung her, only to find a bipedal creature throwing peppermints at her. “Depravity!” he yelled, an arm swinging more of the minty candies.
“Would you stop that? I’m not here to hurt you,” Sunset said as she sailed down, avoiding more of the after-dinner sweets. As she came closer, she realized that, much like bead country, the creatures here were made of the same things as the world.
A snout of string cheese dug into a cantaloupe head, leading down a neck of more cheese to a torso of powdered doughnut. His eyes were odd, a pair of round potato chips with salty brows. Two wings made of caramel were visible through the hole in his torso. The legs and arms were omelets, and Sunset was not about to ask what recipe they were. “Yeah? You seem normal enough. Horn and wings? You a princess?” the doughnut creature asked.
“No, I’m—” Sunset cut herself off. “Yes. Yes, I am,” she said more sternly, grinning on the inside. Technically, it’s not a lie. What makes a princess if not purely being an alicorn? Boy, I wonder what Princess Twilight will say. Her heart suddenly hurt, the thought of telling the story of Sombra freshened itself in her mind.
“Thought you princessy types were Discord’s playthings.” The way the creature spoke reminded Sunset of someone else, but the features were all wrong. “Well, except the pink one. Heard she’s playing a forced part in that theater group up in the Crystal Empire.”
“I’m not from this world, but I’m going to do my best to stop all this chaos. How exactly do you—uh, hear things?”
The creature shrugged his omelet shoulders. “Hear things from others who travel. The world may be in chaos, but life goes on. Gossip doesn’t stop traveling down the grapevine.” He had meant the literal grapevine that most travelers used on the west side of the Not-So-Bad-Badlands, though Sunset hadn’t seen it, coming in from the north.
“I meant more of, how you hear, but okay.” She shook her head. “I’m looking for my friend, actually. She’s supposed to be here somewhere. I need to locate all six of my friends in order to win Discord’s game, stopping all this chaos.”
“Your friend a pony?” he grumbled.
“Yeah.”
“Well, there’s only one pony here in the Not-So-Bad-Badlands. The leader of those fiends, the cannibals. She ain’t one of us, she’s a pony, and she convinced a bunch of us dragonuts to start eating more than just the environment.”
Dragonuts! It made sense. The way the creature was shaped, along with his deeper voice and arrogant personality, it should have been obvious that he was this world’s dragon. “Cannibals?” Being made of food was certainly a disadvantage, but Sunset didn’t want to ask about the biological needs that living food had. They eat? Well, life goes on, she repeated the dragonuts words. “So your kind is eating each other? Anybody ever take a bite out of themselves?”
“Oh, don’t even get me thinking about that! It’s bad enough we’ve had to start a neighborhood watch to look out for them eating our homes.”
“And the leader, she’s a pony?” That’s got to be Pinkie Pie. “Any idea where their base is at? Do they have one?”
“A base? Sure. None of us are brave enough to go around it, though. Don’t wanna get eaten,” he replied, scratching his cheese chin. “It’s down south. Lowest point of the Not-So-Bad-Badlands. If you’ve gotten to the place where everything’s got teeth marks on it, you’ve reached the area.”
“Is there anything else I should know?”
“You ponies always want to know more.” The dragonut tossed a few peppermints on the ground in front of her. “There ain’t nothing else to tell. Why don’t you go take on Discord yourself? Worthless ponies.” He continued to mumble as he stomped away, footprints sprinkled with scrambled egg were left within the ice cream.
Sunset glanced to the sky. Both the sun and moon were dipping low but in opposite directions. Great. Guess I have to hope I’m going south. She took a few steps and started to fly. Her comfort level in flying was starting to soar, but not enough to dodge and weave between pretzel stick homes. Flying above and over, she caught a glimpse of a few homeowners pointing up at her. Perhaps they’re worried I’m with Pinkie Pie. I wonder what’s gotten into her. Has she really been a terror?
Crossing over a river of chocolate milk, perhaps part of the same one that she’d fallen into, Sunset chose to take a break. Flying was a straining exercise not unlike attempting powerful unicorn magic. And landing was even harder. Stopping only inches from the muddy bank, she managed to keep a steady balance as she leaned over to drink. Instead of notebooks and school supplies, I should’ve packed a canteen and camping supplies. The river was like drinking pure cocoa, a bitterness coated Sunset’s tongue, leaving an awful aftertaste. While she was gulping down as much of the unpleasant milk as she could stomach, a voice called out to her, “’Ey! Outta the way!”
“Oh my gosh,” Sunset mouthed as she wiped the milk from her chin. Her eyes flexed over the creature, a bald-headed, fat rat floating on his back inside an inner tube. His skinny tail was flopped over the side of the rubber like a wet noodle. She got an even closer look as the floating tire bumped against the shore she was drinking from, his wet fur was matted with tangles and muck. “I think I’m going to be sick,” she mumbled to herself. The idea of drinking down the river from this unhealthy varmint was enough to turn her face a nice shade of green.
“Like what you see?” She didn't notice initially, but the bald rat wore sunglasses that he tipped down with his little claws. He was no bigger than Sunset’s head, and the glasses appeared too large for his stature. His eyes stared at her, bloodshot and full of sleep sand. “Catch you later, honey.”
Sunset shook her head in disbelief. She instinctively looked around to see if anyone else saw the talking, disgusting rat floating along like he was on vacation. Of course, there was no one else around. Hindsight, forget the canteen and camping supplies. A video camera or a smartphone would’ve been a better choice. Sombra’s betrayal? Believable. Floating rat yelling from an inner tube? Not a chance. She sighed and shook her head, the chocolate coloring of the milk now an unpleasant sight.
Her stomach grew tired of the snacks. Cavities are going to be the bigger villain instead of Discord, she chuckled to herself. Gummies made into the shape of pine trees stretched a portion south, and she could still see the cone pillar with the pretzel sticks to the north. From Ponyville to Appleloosa to here didn’t seem like such a far distance. Yet the Badlands, or rather, the Not-So-Bad-Badlands, is like a never-ending bastion of treats. Maybe this is what Discord meant in me making a terrible choice. Traipsing into the gummy woods, she glanced between the ‘needles’ of the pine, wondering just how far the forest went. There certainly wasn’t any foliage or life in the old Badlands, she noted, trying her best to see a positive outlook on the situation.
A set of words said by a stallion she wanted nothing to do with unexpectedly wrapped around her mind. “You said you wanted to stop being angry and pathetic, yet it’s the past that makes you feel that way.” She pictured the dark stallion, his charming smile, circular spectacles, and flowing cape. The Badlands were where he said that to me. Was it my past that made him realize he could use me? The day we went to the Castle of the Two Sisters. He said he wanted to help me, but he only helped himself. If Discord gives me a choice, what would be my answer? Pushing forward or going back? Maybe that isn’t the question I should be asking, though. I’d hate to admit he was right about finding other avenues… but there’s something to that.
As she got lost in her own thoughts, she failed to notice the sunset and moonset, both sides of the sky were dimming into a black void of darkness. The coldness on her back began to weigh heavy, her new wings did not provide the warmth one would have expected. When she saw her breath, she realized something was off. It’s cold in deserts at night, and this place is already cold enough, she gathered, her muzzle scrunching up as if to hold in her breath. Her march beneath the gummy pines turned into terror. I can’t burn this stuff—it’s not wood. How am I going to survive the night in the cold? Oh geez. Just as suddenly as her worries beseeched her, they were gone. Right. I have magic, she realized, slapping her forehead.
Darkness fell over the land, but Sunset lit her own path through the gummy trees. This darkness, the moon is nowhere to be seen. It reminds me of the true night. She exhaled, the light of her horn showing the leftover heat of her breath. Aside from the vicinity around her, she could see nothing but darkness. Her ears were more aware, especially when she heard the rustling of leaves, her head spinning in every direction. There’s nothing there, she reassured herself and utilized her new alicorn magic to extend the light further. She wondered just how far her new powers were willing to reach. To think, this is what I strived for all that time ago. To be… great.
Being alone gave Sunset the one thing she wanted to avoid. Time. Time to regret, to think, and to want. Now, instead of greatness, I’d give it all up just to be back at CHS with my friends. Maybe Tirek was right, I’m just a pretend hero. They’re the real heroes. They helped Twilight to stop me. They did most of the work in defeating the sirens. They even showed me what it was that we needed to stop Midnight Sparkle. They never gave up—yet here I am, wishing to not deal with any of this and to just run home with my tail between my legs. No! I can’t think like that!
She wiped her nose, the cold of the air causing an influx of drainage. She became so lost in her own thoughts that she ignored another rustling of leaves. It wasn’t until the third time that her mind began to amble from her own doubts and past. Wait. These trees don’t have leaves, she finally recognized. They’re not even real trees! She spun in circles, the sounds of rustling getting closer. Even with her brightened horn, she could see nothing. Backing beneath one of the gummy pine trees, she pressed herself to the gooey bark, hoping to shelter herself from whatever might be following.
The sound echoed above her, but through the dark green of the chewy candy, Sunset could not see what it was that made the awful noise. She sniffled and peered her head out, proving to be a mistake. A sudden screech deafened her in one ear, forcing her to duck back against the sticky bark. What in the world was that!? Her mind failed her. Was that lettuce? She bit her lip, there were more of the crackling echoes all around.
Sucking in her breath, she rushed out from underneath the gummy tree to the shelter of another, hoping to glimpse the creature that deafened an ear. She saw nothing, but the sound of rustling grew enormous. The gummy tree rocked and trembled as if a giant weight was sitting atop its gooey branches. Of course, unlike normal trees, the gummy tree slanted to one side, its bendy bark refusing to bear any burden. Pressing forward to the next, Sunset glanced back at the tree. That was when she caught her first full glimpse of the small creatures. Bats! They were not ordinary bats, however. The small creatures were made completely of lettuce. The rustling was nothing more than the crackle of lettuce leaves being swung as they flew through the air.
Oh, I get it. Like fruit bats except vegetables. The leafy air vermin swarmed the tree she sat beneath, its gummy branches trembling. Why are they coming after me? she wondered as she rushed to the next tree. When they followed, she chose to dim her light. In darkness, scampering to the next tree with a quiet canter, she noted that they did not follow. The crackling and crunching still swarmed the tree she had been at. Her heart raced as she listened, the noise eventually vanishing into the distance.
Breathing hard, she exhaled one sigh of relief only to suck it right back in. A slimy, wriggly tendon trailed down her neck and rubbed against a nub of her wing. Jittering her head slowly, she could see nothing in the dark. With the softest light she could conjure, Sunset saw exactly what it was that skittered along her back. A large centipede the size of her foreleg was feeling around with its antenna, which were very skinny breadsticks. The arthropod was made of wheat, each piece of its body a bread roll. When the light touched the breadipede, it skittered away, rushing into the gumminess of the pine tree.
Sunset trembled with fear as she craned her head to look at the rest of the gummy tree. More bread bugs recoiled at the light, turning tail back into the trees they made their homes. With a short yelp, she backed away from the gummy tree just in time to see one of the vegetable bats swoop down and snatch a bread bug from a branch. Oh, I get it. The bugs come out in the darkness and the bats are able to get them. My light was preventing the bugs from appearing, so the bats attacked. Life goes on, I guess. Even if the creatures are horribly mutated.
It was too dark to go without light, but Sunset dared not threaten the bats again. With a bit of ingenuity, she created a dim ball of light, casting it out a few yards in front of her. Every few moments, the bats swung down to stop the glow, but they no longer targeted the new alicorn. Eventually, the bats gave up, their lettuce wings carrying them after prey elsewhere. At least, that’s what Sunset assumed at first. She soon noticed these gummy trees were not the same as at the entrance to the forest. Huge chunks of rubbery candy had been ripped off the branches. One tree even sat on its side, blocking Sunset’s path, a bite mark at the trunk was the cause of its downfall.
“Who did this?” she wondered aloud, crouching down to examine the teeth marks. The curvature of the bite had been large. She tried to picture the dragonut she’d spoken to, his cheese muzzle a rectangular snout. As she peered at the downed tree, she noticed some of the scuffmarks on the ground. Dropping to her front knees, the light of her horn struck the torn cake soil and illuminated a few strange strands of hair. They’re pink, she noted. They could be Pinkie Pie’s, though they’re a shade darker. The wind sucked the strands out of the air, and she decided to have a closer look at the area. Wait, this is the place that dragonut spoke of! Gummy trees sat chewed in half, rocks that were rock candy had been dug into, and a pond of chocolate milk now remained as a puddle.
In the darkness, it was hard to tell how much damage had been done to the environment. Sunset’s adrenaline caused by the swooping vegetable bats curved off, and the cold was numbingly harsh. If this keeps up, I may need to forfeit for now and go after one of the other girls, she thought, sniffling. As she followed the scraps of half-eaten snacks, she found a toppled cookie that sat against a cheese stick. The bottom half of the cookie had been chewed off, the sticky fudge center partially visible. Sunset took a second to look over the scene, a thought of shelter crossed her mind. With her magic, she dug out the cake dirt that sat between the cheese stick and the cookie, creating a hole in the center. With the excess cake and a bit of engineering, she managed to create a firm barrier against the elements. Though there was still room to see out, the cake was nowhere near as tough as regular dirt. I almost feel like a bunny rabbit, she mused, another scoop of cake in her magical grasp.
Her fur matted against the dirt as she laid down on her side. Shrugging her backpack off released a wave of relief throughout her back. “I didn’t think I’d be lying in a hole surrounded by cake when I woke up this morning,” she tried to joke with herself. It didn’t help. I also didn’t think I’d be betrayed by Sombra when I woke up this morning, yet here I am. She sighed, her head resting against her backpack. Sleep would have been a welcome commodity had her mind not began to wander. That dream returned. I hadn’t had one since… She tried to remember the last time she dreamt. She tried to remember her other dreams, the ones that didn’t consist of golden flowers and Midnight Sparkle.
She tossed and turned, her forelegs to her chest. The cold was not so bad beneath the cake and cookie, her frozen nose stifled its sniffle. A few shivers went their course before succumbing to a tired day. Her mind tried to race; to follow a path to a different dream. When golden flowers melted into her eyesight, Sunset could only sigh and accept it. Cross-legged, she sat amongst the flowers, plucking one by the stem. Lifting it to her nose, she took a big whiff. It’s better than smelling cake and frosting, she supposed.
There was never any sun or moon in this dream, but it wasn’t like the true night either.
“I was so angry at my father.”
The sudden words sent Sunset jumping up, twisting around on her feet to see the squatting dragoness. “Ember?” she asked, holding her hands out as if to touch the cerulean dragon.
Another set of words came from a different voice, causing another turn for Sunset. “They captured and drained us till we were weary, and now all we have left is our fury.” She was surprised to see the zebra, Zecora, lying on her back with her hooves kicking freely.
“I lost my title, my ruler, and my freedom thanks to you!” This male voice was the only one of the three that spoke to Sunset directly.
“Blueblood? I don’t understand. What are you doing here?” The stallion stared at Sunset as if he was ready to charge.
“That’s right—it’s her fault.” Ember rose, her claws swiping off the tops of the golden flowers.
“She wanted to reform the queen who brought us so much pain! Her words and loyalty were nothing but a feign!” Zecora rolled to one side, crushing some of the flowers, her eyes pierced Sunset’s very being.
“If you had just reformed Nightmare Moon, we wouldn’t have had to resort to stealing her power!” Blueblood began to charge. Sunset had no way to dodge the rampaging unicorn without jumping into the clutches of one of the other angry apparitions.
“This is just a dream! A nightmare!” she yelled, trying to wake herself before the stallion could strike. It was too late, however, as the stallion reached her and knocked the very air out of her lungs. It hurt so bad that it woke her from the dream. Gasping for air, she sucked in cake by accident, which only caused her to choke more. When she tried to rise to spit out the cake, she clonked her forehead on the low hanging cookie she slept beneath.
Holding her forehead with her hooves and coughing violently, she struggled to find the desire to get up and greet the new day. The purple sky was partially visible from her hole, the cake had been shoved so high it made the perfect barrier to the rest of the world. When her choking subsided, she pushed the surplus cake aside and dragged her backpack out by the strap. “What was that about?” she wondered aloud. She rubbed the tears from the corners of her eyes, using the back of her hoof to do so—the underside coated in cake.
In the light of the new morning, her question evaporated—or more accurately, were trampled by several more questions. The half-eaten snacks she’d seen the previous night had just been the prologue to a very long and messy story. An ice cream cone pillar sat on its side in front of her, the bottom completely chewed off. Another pillar sat only a few meters away, leaning so far that it should have fallen ages ago. The pink frosting that covered the cake dirt like grass had all vanished, leaving behind potholes and rough mounds. As Sunset came closer to the downed pillar cone, she found all the ice cream inside had been eaten. Flying over to the lopsided cone, she noted that it too had its ice cream center gone. Someone ate the ice cream but left the cones? Well, that’s just rude. That’s like not eating the crust on the pizza. Who does that?
Sunset hovered in the air to get a better view, her backpack sat dangling in her hooves. Back north is the forest with those weird trees. West, there’s a triple threat of pillars, they look intact. East? She scanned the area to the east. For the most part, random assortments of candy based foliage and natural structures were the only thing she could see. There were also more cones, but they were too far away. South is the only place that’s not like the others. Destruction was the most appropriate word Sunset could have used for the cardinal direction. The forest of gummy trees extended further south, but the only signs that it had were a few measly stumps. The stretch of what seemed like miles laid with abrasions against the cake soil. It was as if a massive battle had occurred, and the winner was a stomach ache.
Heading in the right direction, Sunset flew south. Her mouth was parched, but even if she wanted to drink from a pond of chocolate milk, she was out of luck. The further she flew, the less she found. This is starting to look more like the Badlands I know, she recollected. Nothing but dry earth and pillars. After an hour of flying, another ice cream cone sat downed far in the distance, but that was not what caught Sunset’s eye. Four more pillars of cone sat slanted, leaning against each other at the fat of their rims. For a second, it reminded Sunset of the claw games you’d find in arcades. That was until she saw the smoke elevating from the inside.
Throwing her backpack over her shoulders, she rushed off to see what exactly it was that could create such smoke in this woodless wonderland. I could use some warmth, she groaned, rubbing her cold fur.
She came in on the backside of one of the slanted cones, the ice cream inside had not been eaten. Trotting around the side, she came face to face with a fence made of cheese sticks for the frame and pink taffy stretching across its center. Civilization! Flapping her wings, she hovered to the top, the fence was at least three times her height.
On the inside, she could see teepees and wigwams made from the same taffy material the fences used. Fire pits were outside some of the teepees, though she could not see what exactly they were burning from her distance. The biggest building sat the furthest away from Sunset, a large longhouse that was built on oatmeal cookie stilts. Some of the residents stirred, and she noticed that they were all dragonuts.
A bell echoed out—which was made completely out of chocolate, so it didn’t sound very loud, but it did attract all the residents. The ringing came from the longhouse.
Sunset was too far away to make out the words, but she could hear yelling—and a pink pony was the cause. Pinkie Pie! Even from her distance, she could make out the furry pink body. The mare stood at the entrance to the longhouse, her head was wrapped in some sort of headdress. As she spoke, the dragonuts went to their knees. Oh goodness. What has Pinkie Pie gotten herself into this time?
Returning to her hooves, Sunset walked around the fence until she discovered the main entrance, an open gate. Two dragonuts stood guard. They did not look exactly like the one she previously talked to—these two had bananas for arms and legs and watermelons for heads. These two also carried polearms, which were made of lollipops. The hard candy had been cut in such a way that it actually looked threateningly sharp. “Who are you!?” they yelled in unison, pointing the ends at Sunset.
“My name is Sunset Shimmer. I’m here looking for Pinkie Pie,” she answered, in a generously polite tone.
“Ain’t no one here by that name. Get lost,” the one on the left replied.
“Yeah, uh huh. I just saw her on that big tent structure over there.”
“That ain’t no Pinkie Pie. That’s the queen. Ain’t no pony gonna get close to her. Get lost,” the one on the right replied.
“Yeah. Okay. I’ve had a really rough morning and I am so not in the mood.” With her magic, she sent the two dragonuts slamming melon first into each other. After they fell to the ground, Sunset stepped over the open holes of their doughnut torsos and entered the camp.
She went unnoticed for a moment by the rest of the residents. Their little tribe was shadowed beneath the four cone pillars, and all colors seemed to fade into pink or brown. Passing a wigwam, some of the dragonuts opened the flap, their potato chip eyes gawking at her. They chose not to stop her as she continued past a fire pit. Coal? Sunset ogled. Where are they getting coal? “A pony?” one of the dragonuts inquired. More of the food-body dragons were starting to become aware of the two she left at the gate. Some had even run up to the longhouse, the flaps still waving from when they entered.
The longhouse was the most impressive building by far. As Sunset gazed up at it, she noted that it was about as long as two full-sized buses. The pink taffy that accompanied all the structures of this civilization was more compact; thicker, and it was stretched harder than that of the teepees or wigwams. The cookie stilts matched the flooring and the steps up to the entrance. Smoke rose out from the center of the raised building, and a hole had been dug underneath into the cake in the very same spot.
Trailing up the steps, Sunset was stopped when the flaps opened up, both sides held by an arm from a different dragonut. They were not blocking her path, however, but opening the door for their queen. The pink pony trotted out from the shadows, her headdress still upon her cranium. It was definitely Pinkie Pie. Her dim blue eyes stared down at Sunset with a mighty disgust. The pink of her fur and hair—though she had no mane—was also a shade darker. The headdress she wore was made completely of rock candy aside from the strands of cotton candy that fashioned into feathers. In the shape of a pony skull, its triangular face was sapphire and the eyeholes were ruby. The cotton candy, a shade that would be normally Pinkie’s fur, was at the back pointing up.
“’Ello poppet,” Pinkie Pie greeted, though her fierce expression remained. “What you want?”
Sunset’s brows knitted together as she stared up at the Element of Laughter. “Uh, I was technically looking for you. You’re Pinkie Pie.”
“I am, I am, though I ain’t go by that name no more.”
“I’ve come to get you. I need your help in winning Discord’s game,” Sunset explained.
“Game, aye? Right’o, that’s all well and good but I ain’t goin’ nowhere wit’chu.”
“Why does your voice sound so… chipper?” Sunset tersely asked.
Pinkie Pie sighed and shook her head, the circlet barely moved. “I hate it when ponies show up. They always make fun of us for doing our silly accents,” she spat.
“Can we still call you mum?” asked one of the dragonuts behind her.
“Aye, you two stow it back inner. This one’s a princess. She ain’t no threat,” Pinkie Pie commanded, and the dragonuts wandered back inside. “Come on now,” Pinkie said in a more normal vernacular for Sunset. “Come into the warmth.”
Sunset trotted up the steps into the taffy longhouse. Pinkie had been right, the warmth filled Sunset with a renewed energy. Chairs made out of crackers sat against the furthest wall to the left, the fire pit sat in the middle, and a large coconut table sat to the right with more of the same cracker chairs spun around it. The two dragonuts went and sat beside the door flaps while Pinkie dragged Sunset to the fire pit. “Thank you. My name is Sunset Shimmer.” She held her hooves to the coal, the heat a welcome change.
“Princess Sunset Shimmer? Haven’t heard of you before. There were only three princesses before this all started, weren’t there?” Pinkie Pie removed her headdress, setting it down on the sole chair in front of the fire pit. She then leaned down and picked up a hefty bag. Sunset couldn’t tell what exactly the bag was made of, but she assumed food, and she was more interested in the coal that Pinkie was pulling out from inside. “Two of the princesses are Discord’s playthings. Other one is up north. Why are you asking for my help? Shouldn’t you be needing theirs?”
“They can’t help me. To win Discord’s game, I need all six of the bearers of the Elements of Harmony.”
“Game. Second time you’ve said game. What sort of game? I like games.”
Sunset shrugged. “I’m actually from another world—I come from one where you and five of your friends used the Elements of Harmony to defeat Discord.” This world’s Discord might or might not be that same one, but she doesn’t need to know that yet. “He knows that the bearers can defeat him, so he’s imagined up this little game where I have to go collect you six. He thinks I’m going to give up at some point. Maybe believing in myself is something that he thinks I’ll lose, losing the game altogether.”
“So, collecting these bearers, they can be used to defeat Discord? The world can return to normal?” Pinkie asked.
“That’s right.”
“Then my answer is no.”
“What!? What do you mean no!?”
“Are you kidding? This world was meant for me!” Pinkie Pie lifted a piece of coal out from the bag and took a big bite, her teeth turning black with every crunch. “I love it! I’m queen here!” she said between chews.
“I can tell. You rule a bunch of tents and eat coal. What a fantastic way to live,” Sunset replied, letting her inner voice out.
Pinkie Pie then blew a bubble. “It burns and is bubble gum flavored!” She then spat out the chewed up gum onto the fire, creating a burst of flames. “Mock me all you want. We go where we want, we eat what we want, and we live how we want!” The two dragonuts by the door cheered the sentiment.
“Yeah, you eat other people too, apparently.”
The earth pony grinned, her black teeth a hesitant sight. “Some join us, that’s right. Some don’t. We eat them. You’re here, too, now. You should join us.”
Sunset was taken aback by the honesty. She had assumed the crotchety dragonut was exaggerating, or that Pinkie Pie had just been misunderstood. “You know these are dragons, right? They may look like food, but they’re real people.” She looked to the two dragonuts in the room. “How are you okay with this?”
“We leave the heads. We ain’t savages. Not like we need to eat’er nothin’. Just do it for fun,” answered one of the dragonuts. “They’re free to build up their bodies just like the rest of us. Of course, we’ll eat ‘em again if we get our mitts on ‘em. We will, we will.” The two then displayed a sort of eerie puppetry where one removed their banana arm while the other removed their bread arm. They then switched, attaching it to their strange doughnut bodies, and displayed that they worked just fine.
“Well then…” Sunset rolled her head. “As long as you leave the heads, I suppose that’s fine.” She blinked for a moment, her mind trying to comprehend her own words. “But if you’re happy here, Pinkie Pie, what will happen when you eat up all the food? Won’t you become bored?”
“You seen the Not-So-Bad-Badlands? It’ll take a few lifetimes to get through all of it. And trust me, the way I eat, this lifetime’ll be a short one.” The earth pony threw her head back with laughter, her darkened teeth on full display. The dragonuts hooted and hollered right along with her, but Sunset could only stand still, frozen in an awkward discomfort. These people are insane.