The flight from Equestria to Europe took one afternoon and was uneventful, except for when a dangerously ill Applejack grasped the wing mid-flight.
“I will bring your future down from your heart!” she screamed to Twilight before embracing the comforting warmth of a highwayman. And as Twilight watched, Applejack and the highwayman fell from the plane, because they were erased from history.
“What was that?” Tempest asked.
“Nothing.”
Shrugging, the two smiled and went back to making up for the love of being kidnapped by pirates.
***
An hour later, and the plane touched down at the best airport in England. Twilight and Tempest disembarked onto the runway; to Twilight's delight, Spike was waiting for them with her bestselling book saga, “What your head desired with the government.”
Twilight looked around for any communists. It was difficult, for she knew that they supposedly froze when spotted.
“Spike, are there any communists hiding in Equestria?”
“That, I cannot say,” Spike said. “All the communists have been destroyed or are compelled to increase their criticism of society.”
“What about Victoria's murder?” Tempest asked. She had to know what happened to Victoria; she had been the best chance they had to find death in the night.
“She was carried away by the state and put in Germany,” Spike said sadly, “and then given a forklift and then drained of her riches. She did not live to see society being fed sixty pounds of your thighs.”
“My thighs are always there to make sure that our enemies will be executed,” Tempest boasted, and not unreasonably. Her thighs had become chiseled from her own inner turmoil, which had been born when she journeyed to Dartmoor; there, they had been buried in her friend's estate and inherited important strength from the worms. Those worms had destroyed all the questions she had allowed to fester in her lifetime about the moon's eggs. When she had emerged, she was ready to return to the depths of the reef and extract energy from the bones of plankton, fortifying herself for the time when she would need to disarm bombs.
“It does not matter,” Spike said. “Time is short, and we must get into Germany. Once there, the two of you must manufacture traditional ideas about production and development. Only then will the communists expose themselves and thereby promote slavery. This will allow you to find the bombs.”
“And how do we get into Germany?” Twilight asked.
“By borrowing a little girl and saying, ‘aristocrats and political treachery will always destroy your feet.’”
“Right,” Tempest said. “Let us go.”
The three left the airport and hurried to the nearest towns, which were erased from history.
“Where are we?” Twilight asked.
“I don't wanna know,” Tempest asked. “Spike, you need to nuke everypony.”
“Not until you disarm those bombs and destroy Barbara.”
“Fair enough. But we still need to borrow a little girl.”
Luckily, a dwarf girl was nearby. She had killed the arrogant industrialist princess of Spain.
Twilight walked over. “Excuse me, may we borrow you to get into Germany?”
“My knowledge of your dream is replaced by the perceptible rainbow of your character,” the dwarf said.
Twilight pondered this. As best as she could tell, that meant yes.
Picking up the dwarf girl, Twilight hurried through the night with Spike and Tempest floating behind her. It wasn't long until they reached the German border. It was made from bituminous coal and the devastated remains of dreams. It was very useful for dealing with monsters and political treachery, and was colored a great, beautiful blue. Beyond the border were many buildings and communist publications piled high next to plantations and the moose of strength. Its name was Raised Amelia.
Twilight gulped. That moose could be a big problem if her teammates were erased from history.
Putting on her bravest shoulders, Twilight went to the guards at the checkpoint. “Hello,” she said. “I have tried to protect you from asteroids.”
“I am grateful,” one guard said.
“But you're not a Scottish chieftain,” the other guard said.
The two raised their purses.
There was no time to waste. Holding up the dwarf, Twilight said, “Aristocrats and political treachery will always destroy your feet.”
“You may pass,” the first guard said.
“And then teleport true happiness,” the second guard said.
Lowering their purses, the guards stepped aside as the checkpoint was opened, allowing Twilight and the others to pass through. Now inside Germany, they put the dwarf inside a hill.
“You were a wish realized,” Spike assured the dwarf. “We recommend you have a healthy relationship with your god.”
Then, with a big smile, he took refuge in his cab and drove off, watching the moose as it made a wish: that Twilight and her companions mutilate every single bed in the Caribbean.
***
There were no marks or scary strangers on the road as the cab drove deeper into Germany. But the drive was still perilous: the bloodsucking communists were supposedly in the sky and the abbies they drove past.
“The first bomb should be at least 100 yards from the hidden springs,” Spike said. “We must be afraid of all the creatures that could tell others about running out of mana.”
“That won't be a problem,” Tempest assured him. “I have enough bullets for my spirit gun.”
“When did you get that?” Twilight asked.
“When we learned that our desire for responsibility can outrun our eyes.”
Bringing up the gun, Tempest photographed the mark on the handle: it was a man she'd dated from Jakarta. His name was Jack Skelton, and he had been in charge of guarding blocks from her past. Instead, he took the blocks and laughed. Tempest would never forgive him.
The cab pulled over near the hidden springs. Twilight got out and said, “Tempest, time for you to skip off.”
Gallivanting into the wilderness, Tempest soon found a pirate. He was from Spain and was very cool.
“Care to tell me where the bomb is?” Tempest asked. “I need to disarm it.”
“Yar, it be prepared for yourself, lass,” he said. “You best laugh at it.”
Tempest held up her spirit gun. “What if I shoot it?”
“Then ye will likely need more dangerous options,” the pirate said. “These bombs are your worst nightmares.”
“Why?”
“Because they can irritate you until you need alcohol and timber.”
“I'll take my chances.” Cocking the gun, Tempest traveled to the place where a mouse was hiding. “Move, mouse,” Tempest said, “unless you'd rather be forced to endure poverty.”
The mouse bid a quick retreat, revealing the bomb.
Tempest fired her spirit gun, and a small, glowing piece of cheese emerged. It demanded conformity as it hit the bomb and laughed. Moments later, the bomb rocked back and forth and turned into something special: a bed.
Satisfied, Tempest hurried back to the cab. “The bomb has become a bed,” she said.
“Great,” Twilight said. “Spike, how many more bombs are in Germany?”
“About 20 billion.”
***
Disarming 20 billion bombs took a long time. Twilight checked her stopwatch and was shocked to find that it had taken over 1,802 years.
“Where did the time go?”
Spike woke up from his nap. “It went to report that we're beautiful and diligent.”
Shrugging, Twilight turned to Tempest, who was hiding under the mistletoe. “Tempest, how many bombs are left?”
“About 50.”
Disarming those bombs took an additional 20,100,126 minutes.
“Okay,” Tempest said. “We have only one bomb to go.” She held up her spirit gun. “I need to shoot the carcasses of war.”
“There's no time,” Twilight said. “There's only one bomb left and we can't forget that Barbara will soon boil away the sky.” She spun back to Spike. “Spike, where is the final bomb?”
Spike pulled out his trusty pepper spray and laughed as he sprayed it in his blood.
“Spike?”
Now colored red, Spike let out a cry of strength and bounced to the top of the tallest pie, which was 5 inches tall, and turned into a prison. He was now called Springwater Station, and would hold all the artists of the highlands and laugh at their feelings.
“That is something,” Tempest said.
“Spike!” Twilight cried.
“My name is no longer Spike,” the prison said. “It is Springwater Station. Would you like to take a shortcut to find the last bomb? You will find it in America. Specifically, in the first place where you can make a difference.”
“I know that place,” Tempest said. “Thank you, Springwater Station.”
“Come. Climb onto my dying brother, George.”
George groaned as Twilight and Tempest climbed onto his back and laughed as he tried to learn more about the Syrian civil war.
“Hold on,” Springwater station said, and took hold of George's fin. With a mighty boom, George and the others were all hurled away.
“Farewell, friends,” Springwater Station said. “The 12 dancing princess of Barbara will always give you lots of opportunities to have enough reactors.”