“-is not blue smoke, but a mix of Poison Joke!” comes Zecora's warning, far too late.
"This is so cool!" the three fillies chorus, wide eyed stares right at the rapidly expanding cloud of blue smoke. In the blink of an eye it completely envelops them, their world reducing to a whirling haze. They giggle, only Apple Bloom having any luck finding the others in the obscuring mist.
Their joy, however, is short lived. They cough on their second breath in, sputtering as they try to get out of the choking gas. Their eyes water as they listlessly flop around, flailing hooves clocking each other and everything around them as they desperately try to regain their bearings.
"Help!" they try to cry, but merely opening their mouth in the smoke results in a hacking, coughing fit that wracks their small bodies. Their struggles grow weak, one succumbing after another and slumping to the ground.
*
“And you’re sure they’re okay?”
“Yes, Applejack, they’re okay. Just recovering.”
“Doug, Ah-” Applejack’s voice cuts out before dropping down, barely audible. “Doug, Ah told you-”
*
Apple Bloom groans as she slowly comes to, the dull light filtering through her eyelids painfully bright. She tries closing her eyes even more tightly, then rolling off her side to burying her head in the cloth next to her. That helps, if barely. She tentatively cracks an eye, holding a hoof up against the blinding light. "Owww," she moans, her head trying to split itself open, and going back to clenching her eyes shut and rolling back onto what she comes to recognize as her sire's backpack. Not that it helps much.
Then her nostrils are assaulted by the stench of unwashed filly hide mixed with the sweet aroma of unwashed filly heinie. Accompanied by the loud squelch of very wet hoof on the floor, like somepony just stepped out of the bath. And then the awkward passing of gas.
“Daddy?” comes a soft, whimpering voice from Apple Bloom’s side, “Am I going to be okay?”
“Yes, Sweetie Belle, you’ll be okay.” Doug's voice, calm and reassuring, rings out. “Just keep drinking, okay? I know it feels weird to drink so much, but you have to.”
“Okay,” comes the resigned reply, an occasional glugging sound now accompanying the wet splooshes.
Apple Bloom feels a hand on her mane, gently rubbing up and down. Apple Bloom snuggles up against the comforting fingers while keeping her eyes firmly squashed against the backpack. His soothing voice again, “Don’t worry, Apple Bloom, you’ll be fine. How are you feeling?”
“The light hurts,” she grunts out, trying to keep the crying from her voice.
“Okay, Bloom, we’ll see if we can do something about that.” His hand tries to pull away, immediately stopped by her grasping hooves. “It’s okay, I’m still here. Hey, Trix, can you?”
“Fine,” comes Trixie’s voice, the unicorn irritated about something, but Apple Bloom isn’t opening her eyes to find out. A moment later and the lights click off, the searing headache along with it. Apple Bloom opens her eyes, able to see everything in the room in a weird gray-scale. Except for just under the door - the light streaming out from over there hurts her eyes and washes everything in a white that all blends together. With an occasional shadow that gets eaten up as quickly as it arrives. The entirety bursts into light as the door opens, a slight southern twang, “Trixie'll try t' find somethin' t' help y'all.”
“That better?” Doug asks as the door closes behind Trixie, the oddly textured darkness where his face should be looking down at her. Apple Bloom can faintly make out features, and the same is true for her sisters. Scootaloo is laying with her head on her hooves, her miserable frown turning to a scowl every time her tail flags up and another fart comes out. Sweetie Belle somehow looks even worse, her normally curly mane laying straight and flat against her head, doused in some sort of liquid. Speaking of, the floor around her is covered in a damp towel, another set nearby. What is hopefully sweat drips off of every available inch on the filly’s body as she forces down another glass of what is hopefully water.
“Yeah.” Apple Bloom says shakily as she gets up, facing away from the closed door, her body already acclimating to the twin terrible smells. “What happened?”
Doug pulls Scootaloo towards himself, rubbing the cringing filly’s mane, though his hand hesitates a little before petting Sweetie Belle’s damp curls. “So, the vial you had was an aerosol version of Poison Joke that Zecora keeps as a defensive weapon. Poison Joke being a, hmm, cursed magical plant that grows out in the Everfree Forest. The blue flowers are generally somewhat harmless, more of a ‘joke’ if anything, although Sweetie Belle could be in fairly serious trouble if we weren’t able to keep her hydrated. But, she’s keeping down the water and the headache is gone, so I think she’ll be okay.”
Sweetie Belle snuggles up against Doug’s hand when it presses against her, Doug slightly frowning before he forces a smile back to his mouth, now ignoring the disgusting squelch of sweat against his fingers.
"After the vial broke I pulled the three of you out of the smoke. Quite the effective deterrent that Zecora made, the gas was… extraordinarily unpleasant to stay in. Like tear gas, and fortunately you three recovered quickly once we got you out of there. Trixie needed some assistance, but managed to walk here on her own.”
“What happened to Zecora?” Scootaloo asks, looking around. “Is she okay?”
“Zecora was out of the blast, and she stayed just long enough to make sure we were alive before she hightailed it out of Ponyville. Supposedly she’s going to try to come up with a solution, but you three - well, four - might just need to wait for the effects to wear off in a day or so. Normally, in the case of Poison Joking, we would just dunk you in a bubble bath and it would clear right up. But, since you inhaled the gas, it won't work. I mean, we could drown you, just for a little while, but we fear that will potentially cause more problems than it will solve."
The silence is ripped by Scootaloo. "Sorry," she mutters. “If I try to hold it in too long, it’s even louder and the sounds from the party stops.” She grumbles as her head returns to her hooves, a forlorn look on her muzzle as her tail flags again.
“What about you?” Sweetie Belle asks, looking up at her sire. “Are you okay?”
“As far as I can tell? I’m not affected by it. I’m just a big ‘ole rock as far as the plant is concerned.” Doug sighs as he strokes Sweetie Belle’s soaked mane, the futility of washing out the grime since it will be replaced almost instantly by the hyper-sweating filly. “And, Trixie is very embarrassed about her reaction, so don’t ask her.”
“Okay,” the three sound off, everypony resigned to sitting in the dark room.
Trixie returns after another minute, levitating a few yards of dark fabric. Apple Bloom grunts in surprised pain as the light shines in through the briefly open doorway. But she’s slightly more used to it now, no longer blinding her but still quite painful. Trixie’s horn lights, the dark, heavy fabric twisting to a cowl around Apple Bloom’s head.
“You said something about a party?” Apple Bloom asks, her voice muffled by the fabric as she looks around at the room the five of them are in. Many boxes are lined up along the wall, holding bags of flour, pots, pans, or cupcake trays. Apple Bloom gasps as she realizes: they are in Sugarcube Corner! "There's no way we can go to Diamond Tiara's cute-ceañera now!" Apple Bloom frantically looks around, unable to make out much through the thick veil. "We'd be the laughingstock of the party!"
"We already are the laughingstock of the school," Scootaloo grumbles, letting loose another fart. "Not like this'll change anything."
"I'm with Apple Bloom," Sweetie Belle says, wiping her brow with her second towel, "There's no way this goes well for us."
"Alright you three, look." Doug says, a firm but loving smile leveled at the trio, "There are two ways this can go, right?"
"Oh, great," Scootaloo groans, "another scenario."
Doug’s smile grows even larger, as if he is deriving far more enjoyment from their precarious situation than he should. "I'm serious. So, if I let you three skip out on this, what's going to happen? You're going to learn that the best way to deal with conflict, or a situation you don’t like, is to avoid it. And maybe that plan works. This time. But what about next time? What about when you can't avoid the conflict, and you have no idea what to do because you've never had to deal with conflict in a reasonable, adult manner? You're going to get destroyed."
The three fillies sniffling is ruined by Scootaloo's loudest, longest fart yet. She sinks down, trying to hide her face with her hooves.
"You three are tough, right?" Doug says, rubbing Scootaloo's mane and getting her to look up at him with more than a little trepidation. “Never give up?” She beams as he continues, "So, what's the other way that it can go? What's the absolute worst that could happen to you?"
"We go to the party," Apple Bloom groans.
Sweetie Belle continues in the same tone, "And all the other ponies make fun of us."
"For the rest of our lives." Scootaloo snorts in amusement as she drops down to a racing stance, immediately ruining her moment with a wet farting sound.
"Yup," agrees Doug, now rubbing both Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle's manes. "You will forever be known by the affliction afflicted on you by that evil enchantress, Zecora."
"She's not an evil enchantress!" exclaims Apple Bloom. "And you said she's trying to help!"
"Yeah, it's not her fault," Scootaloo says, shaking her head though she can’t help but glance at Apple Bloom with a slight scowl. "We weren't supposed to mess with her stuff."
Sweetie Belle sighs, a wet 'schlorp' as she shifts around. "But we did anyway. And now we're paying the price."
"Just think of it this way," Doug says as he pushes the storeroom door open, Diamond Tiara's cute-ceañera well underway. "You three stood up to Zecora. Who else here can say that?"
The three fillies awkwardly stumble inside the main storefront of Sugarcube Corner, filled with pink, purple and white decorations. A blue crown theme is scattered here and there, though a couple purple candy canes are visible on the other side. Many of the ponies at the party glance over to carefully regard the newcomers to the party. Even the music player stops, silence filling the room.
Until Scootaloo rips one. Loudly.
First one, then two, then all of the fillies join in laughing with Scootaloo as she grins. “Heh, you should have heard me in there.”
“We did hear you in there,” grins Lemon, “and that one was nothing!”
Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom perk up at the giddy laughter and slap of hoof on hoof, happily walking with Scootaloo to some of the snacks set up. Sweetie Belle leaves soggy hoofprints wherever she walks, though she is trying to keep up with a towel dragging behind her. Apple Bloom can’t really get anything underneath her veil, not that she’s really feeling that hungry, and she wants to avoid the reflection of the light regardless.
Twist walks up to the three, cutie mark of two peppermint twists in a heart shape proudly displayed on her flank. “That wath tho cool, you three. I hope I can be ath brave ath you!”
“Thanks, Twist!” Scootaloo says, raising her eyebrows as she exclaims, “Your cutie mark! You got your cutie mark!”
“That’s so sweet!” Sweetie Belle exclaims, prancing around and flinging droplets of sweat everywhere.
“And it’s in a little heart! Aww!” Apple Bloom says, having to get close to Twist in order to inspect the cutie mark.
“Yeah, it is pretty nice,” Diamond Tiara says as she and Silver Spoon walk up, forced smiles plastered on their faces. “I mean, it’s definitely better than no cutie mark at all.”
“There’s only so much potential you can have before it starts being wasted, you know?” Silver Spoon sniffs a few times, her muzzle curling to a scowl. “Speaking of being wasted, what got in to you three?”
“Oh, nothing much. Just standing up to Zecora,” Apple Bloom smirks, her cocky grin hidden behind the dark veil.
Many of the nearby ponies ‘oooh’ at the mere suggestion that the three fillies had done so.
“Hey!” exclaims Diamond Tiara, “No upstaging me at my cute-ceañera!”
Apple Bloom shrugs, more exaggerated than she has to, “Sorry, DT. Maybe you can upstage us at our cute-ceañera!”
Sweetie Belle smiles, “Yeah! In fact, you’ll probably help us get our cutie marks! Just like we helped you!”
“Good luck with that,” Scootaloo says. “I mean, what are the odds of that happening, you know?”
Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon stare at each other for a few seconds before they both burst out laughing. “Yeah, that’ll be the day,” Diamond Tiara says between giggles.
“I mean, can you imagine?” Silver Spoon says, grinning. “I bet even Princess Celestia will be there when that happens, it’s so unlikely!”
“How about the Princess’s personal student?” Twilight Sparkle says as she walks up, Spike riding on her back. “What happened to you three?”
“Nothing much,” Scootaloo smirks, glancing between Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom as she rips another one. “Just being awesome.”
Spike snorts, pointing a claw and laughing. He motions at Scootaloo, "Oh, this is too great! You've got Pootaloo! And, um, Apple Gloom! And Sweatie Belle!" he falls to the ground, rolling on the floor, laughing his tail off.
Scootaloo glares at Spike for a few seconds before a grin breaks out across her face. "Hey, those are pretty good!" She walks up to the dragon, smirking, "Want to try some more?"
"What?" Spike says as Scootaloo spins around, her tail flagging. “Noo!” he exclaims, jumping up and running away from Scootaloo.
“Oh, this is rich,” Scootaloo says as Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle join her. “Hey, maybe Diamond Tiara is right, you know?”
“About what?” Apple Bloom says, rubbing the veil now awkwardly clinging to her mane.
Scootaloo exclaims, “Our cutie marks! We really need to kick it into high gear. Like, how did trying out different stuff with Rainbow Dash go? Pretty awesome, right?”
“Um, it wasn’t… bad.”
“Huh.” Scootaloo glances to Sweetie Belle, nodding resolutely. “So, we’ll just have to take it into our own hooves, then!”
Sweetie Belle nods back, “We could totally form a club together! And hang out, doing activities to try to get our cutie marks!”
“But,” Apple Bloom says, “don’t we already do that kind of thing?”
“Huh.” Scootaloo pauses, her hoof stroking her chin thoughtfully. “Yeah, but it’s not the same as if we started, like, a secret society!”
“We’d need some sort of way to tell who is in!” Sweetie Belle adds, humming to herself as she looks around the party.
“You mean, like, a blank flank?” Apple Bloom deadpans.
“Apple Bloom," Scootaloo threatens, "so help me, if you don’t stop being a stick in the mud I will beat you with a muddy stick.”
“Ah’d like to see you try. You can’t hit the broad side of the barn Ah just built,” Apple Bloom retorts.
“Hey, maybe we’ll get our cutie marks in arguing!” Sweetie Belle says, smiling as she steps in between the two fuming fillies.
Apple Bloom snorts as Scootaloo says, “Wait, is that what we’re doing? I don’t want a cutie mark in arguing!”
“Okay, fine,” Apple Bloom says, “But we’ll need a really cool name for ourselves.”
“The Cutie Mark Wanderers?”
“The Cutie Marktastics?”
“How about,” Apple Bloom says, taking a deep breath, “The Cutie Mark Creative Responders Until Such A Day Everypony Really Shines?”
“What?” says Sweetie Belle.
“Are you talking lessons from Trixie in how you name things?” Scootaloo says with a smirk.
“Hey, y’all,” Trixie drawls, “T'ere ain’t no reason t' be like t'at.”
“Yeah, it’s a bit long.” Apple Bloom sighs.
“How about the Cutie Mark Crusaders?” Sweetie Belle says.
“I like it!” exclaims Scootaloo.
“Where’d you get that from?” Apple Bloom asks.
No longer running for his life, or at least his nostrils, Spike patrols around the rest of the party. He spots Trixie talking with the Apple trio and walks up to the blue unicorn, noticing how she is still wearing her hat and cape despite it being inside. "So, Trixie, what happened to you? Did you get hit too?"
Trixie turns, a curt stare at Spike. "Trixie did."
Spike raises an eyebrow, not seeing anything. "And, there weren't any effects?"
Trixie turns away just a little, "Trixie ain't gonna comment."
“Okay.” Spike stares at Trixie, rubbing his chin as he tries to decipher what could have happened. "Hey, Trixie, you've gotta be burning up in that cloak!"
"Noh."
"Come on, Trixie! I gotta know!"
"Noh."
Spike sighs unhappily, folding his claws in front of him. He finally raises one, "Okay, one hint. Give me one good hint and I'll leave you along."
Trixie pauses for a few seconds, "Trixie could share a moniker with a particular griffon band."
"Griffon band?" Spike sighs as he shakes his head, "Sorry, I don't know any griffon bands."
Applejack walks up, “Hey, Ah think Ah’ve heard of a griffon band. They’re really good, too! But…”
Applejack stares at Trixie, her eyes widening.
Trixie stares back at Applejack, barely holding back a malevolent glare.
Applejack’s eyes flick to Trixie’s cape, then back to Trixie’s face.
Trixie stares back at Applejack, her malevolent glare creeping closer to the surface.
Applejack walks away, her mouth set in a neutral grimace.