The Stages Of Becoming A Fanfilly

by WriterWings


Stage IV: Mania

"Apple Bloom! You in there?"

"Sweetie Belle, you've been calling her for nearly 10 minutes. She's not in there!"

"The clubhouse is the only place in Ponyville we haven't searched yet. She has to be!"

The two fillies stood outside the Cutie Mark Crusaders' clubhouse, shifting their hooves uneasily as they waited for the slightest sign of their friend. On a cold, thunderous, Saturday night, the last place anypony would want to be was outside in the icy rain, but ever since the news, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle had no choice.

"It's our clubhouse, too. Why aren't we going inside?"

The question, though obvious, hung in the frigid air unanswered. Yes, it was their clubhouse... but what with Apple Bloom's predicament...

CRASH! They yelped in panic as a bolt of lightning forked through the night sky, illuminating the fillies with a flash of blinding, deafening light, plunging into the ground mere inches away from where they had been standing. Through the rain beating down on their bodies, the stench of burnt grass filled the air.

"...I think we should go inside," Scootaloo muttered, breaking away from her shivering stance.

"Agreed."

It had all begun with the newspaper this morning. It was all over the front page of the Ponyville Express; even the Foal Free Press had decided to cover the story, headlining it in big, bold, capital letters. But no matter how clear the writing, how large the typeface... nopony could believe their eyes.


FILLY GONE MISSING OVERNIGHT, URGENT HELP WANTED

Last night, at approximately 10:35 p.m., the Ponyville Police received a chilling message, a cry for help from a family of which such a horrific tragedy has befallen. The call had come from the Apple family, residing in Sweet Apple Acres, regarding their youngest, a little filly named Apple Bloom.

"Our lil' sis is always running of ta places with her friends," the eldest sibling, Big Macintosh, informed reporters this morning. "But this... this we had never expected."

"When we went ta look for her in her room," the filly's older sister Applejack added, through tears she was struggling to keep on the inside, "The bed was made, and all that was missing were her laptop, her headphones and her saddlebags! We have no idea where she could be!"

When the matriarch of the family was interviewed, all she had mentioned was "a right spankin' once that filly gets home!"

Apple Bloom was last seen at 8 p.m. last night, leaving the farmhouse to take the family dog for a late-night walk.

To all the citizens of Ponyville: If you have any idea where this missing filly is, please alert the local authorities immediately. There is no time to waste.


Once they had forced the clubhouse door open, it didn't take that long for them to realise their mistake.

"Wha—" Scootaloo coughed and spluttered as she inhaled dust and debris into her lungs. "What happened to this place?"

What was originally a warm, welcoming treehouse, was now the opposite. Darkness shrouded the room, the only light coming from the pale moon shining through the open window.

Sweetie Belle noticed a candle on the table in the middle of the clubhouse, and, though it was unlit, went to put her hoof over it. Still warm. Somepony had been here very, very recently.

"Scootaloo!" She whispered to her friend. "The flashlight!"

"Right, right." Scootaloo heaved the flashlight out of her saddlebags with her teeth and flicked it on.

Sweetie Belle screamed.

"GYAHH! WHAT EVEN IS THAT?!"

She pointed to the wall of their beloved clubhouse, hoof trembling, the light emanating from the flashlight circling the horrific display that stood in front of them, taunting them with all of its crimson glory.

Scootaloo inched closer, sniffing the wall with her muzzle, then sticking out her tongue to lick the mess. "That's ketchup," she confirmed, "And that's supposed to be the logo of The Frying Pones."

Sweetie Belle gritted her teeth, hoping dried ketchup was easy to clean off wood. Nevertheless, the very smell would stay for weeks, a sour reminder of what the clubhouse had once become.

They continued to trudge around the clubhouse, gingerly avoiding the odd TFP trading card lying about. Posters and various fanart were plastered onto the walls with ghastly amounts of Blu-Tack: Dark Raven screaming into a microphone... Bright Blitz shredding a solo on his guitar... Oh, look! A photo of Apple Bloom's last birthday, which the Crusaders had celebrated together in the clubhouse. How nice.

Oh. Wait... Apple Bloom had photoshopped the faces of Dark Raven and Bright Blitz over Sweetie Belle's and Scootaloo's. Well, that hurt.

"Any sign of Apple Bloom?" Scootaloo asked, nervously peering inside a TFP snow globe. Because those exist, apparently.

"Nope," Sweetie Belle sighed. "You know, I kinda feel bad for not hanging out with her yesterday. Perhaps she wouldn't have run away if we were with her."

"Are you kidding?" Scootaloo raised an eyebrow. "I'm not gonna take the blame for all of this madness!" Then her ears perked up, hearing something.

"What is it?"

"Sshhh! Listen."

...filled with seeds...
...give... me...

"Do you hear that?"

Sweetie Belle nodded. Together, they made their way silently towards the music, making sure not to make any loud noises, for that might wake the beast that was Apple Bloom's fanfillying.

They found her huddled in a corner of the clubhouse, swaddled in swaths of blankets and quilts, her eyes glued to her computer so intently you could see Dark Raven's reflection head-banging in her gleaming irises. Her frizzled hair looked as if it hadn't been brushed in a month, her bright pink bow now drooping sadly to one side in a tangled sea of red, only parted by a pair of headphones turned all the way up to maximum volume.

The yellow filly hadn't heard them come in, nor had she seen them, so she carried on singing to herself as the next song began:

[PRE-CHORUS]
Can't find my hayburger
Where has it gone?
Searching for it, it's just murder
What did I do wrooooooong?

[CHORUS]
What good is a side
Of ketchup and some fries
If nothing ever seems to pull it together

I just wanna take a bite
So somepony tell me why
It's gone, my lost hayburger...

Apple Bloom chuckled to herself. "But what most Fryfans don't know," she mumbled happily, "Is that the hayburger signifies the love Dark Raven had for his special somepony, which was lost over the years because of a misunderstanding between himself and the previous bass guitarist! It's simple once you look at the lyrics, really... and ah bet I'm the only Fryfan in Equestria who knows that!"

She giggled maniacally and carried on watching the music video.

"...How does she know that?" Scootaloo frowned.

"Beats me," Sweetie Belle sighed, a wave of pity flitting over her face for her poor friend. "If only we never told her about The Frying Pones —"

"DID SOMEPONY MENTION THE FRYING PONES?!"

Apple Bloom had thrown off her precious headphones, her grinning face now cocked to one side, one eye staring intently at her friends, the other rolled off to the other side. "IT'S SO GREAT THAT YOU'RE HERE, GIRLS. AH KNEW YOU WOULD COME EVENTUALLY."

Perhaps overuse of her headphones had caused permanent hearing damage.

"IN FACT, YOU'RE JUST IN TIME! NOW SIT, AS WE BINGE WATCH THE TV SERIES BRIGHT BLITZ STARRED IN AS A FOAL!"

Before Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo could protest, Apple Bloom forced them onto two nearby beanbags and typed madly away into her laptop. "IT'S FIVE SEASONS AND TWO MOVIES! WELL, ONE IS A CHRISTMAS MOVIE, BUT IT'S ALREADY JUNE, SO WE'RE HALFWAY THERE, RIGHT? RIGHT?!"

"Apple Bloom, we're really not interested in —"

"OH, NO, YOU DON'T HAFTA THANK ME. IT'S MAH PLEASURE. NOW Y'ALL ARE GONNA SIT THERE AND WATCH IT WITH ME. CUTIE MARK CRUSADER FRYFANS! YAY!!!"

Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo groaned in resignation, dreading the night that was to come.

"Yay."