//------------------------------// // Epilogue // Story: Scrappy's Heaps // by AlwaysDressesInStyle //------------------------------// Several months later, Scrappy, Nermal, Wheelie, and others were watching the series finale of My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic and cringing at what they saw. “Grogar is Discord? This is bad.” Scrappy paced back and forth. “There’s no bigger bad to defeat here. She’s smurfed.” “Hey! That’s not a grammatically correct way of using ‘smurf’. Like Papa Smurf always says…” “Yes, Brainy?” Nermal asked with interest. “I have no idea. Normally this is about the time the other Smurfs interrupt and toss me out on my head.” “Ohhhh! Pretty pegasus pony has a horn! Go pretty little pony!” “Elmyra’s smurfing for her. She’s so smurfed.” “I thought you said that was grammatically incorrect, Brainy?” “When you said it, it was. You did the inflection wrong.” “Meesa no like her odds.” Everyone ignored Jar-Jar. “And she’s a statue. Great job, DHX, I didn’t see that coming.” Nermal sighed. “What hit me?” Cozy returned to the junkyard with a thud. “Don’t worry, Cozy, you’re just stoned.” Nermal hopped up to his favorite perch atop the pegasus. “I liked you better when you were still soft and warm.” “I can’t move!” Cozy’s body had petrified even beyond the fourth wall. “How am I talking?!?” “You’re projecting your thoughts. That’s how Garfield and I talk – we can’t really talk in our continuity.” Nermal made himself as comfortable as he could. “And because they didn’t kill you outright, your body is reflecting your current state in your canon. The writing staff couldn’t have picked a worse way for you to end the series. Someone working there really doesn’t like you.” “Cute little pegasus pony! I’m gonna love you, and hug you, and squeeze you to pieces!” Elmyra wrapped her arms around the statue to no avail. “You’re not as squishy as you are on TV.” Scrappy pulled away from his computer. “Well, the good news is fans are ticked off that you’re a statue. #FreeGollyHorse is a thing. And amazingly, A better end for Cozy has more than twice as many tagged images than A better end for Chrysalis, a known fan favorite, and every single image tagged A better end for Tirek has you in it. Congratulations, you’re well on your way to becoming an ensemble darkhorse. The bad news is, if you get upgraded, you won’t be able to visit us anymore. And you’ll still be stuck as a statue.” “How do I fix this? This is awful! I can’t move! I can’t see anything! I can’t smell or feel anything except a hard shell smothering me. I can hear you and that’s it.” “Looks like IDW plans a run of comics to take the place of a tenth season of the show. So, uh, hope for the best?” Scrappy shrugged. “There’s not much we can do about it.” “There’s one thing we can do. Body of pink and hair of blue.” Wheelie grabbed the cans of spray paint they used to decorate all the vehicles going into the crusher. If it didn’t look like the Mystery Machine, it didn’t get recycled, period. It was Scrappy’s therapy. But on the plus side, it meant they kept a lot of paint on hand at the scrapyard. It didn’t take long for the Autobot to return color to the statue. Elmyra ran towards the immobile Cozy but Wheelie stopped her. “That’s as close as you can get. Remember, the paint’s still wet.” “If you guys smashed me, would I get a new body like you do, Scrappy?” “Yes.” “All right! Do it!” “And it would also be a statue.” “Oh, come on!” “That’s how it works. Sorry. I don’t have any control over that. Do you think I like coming back as a scrawny puppy every time?” “I give up! Grr, stupid stony body, I can’t even cry! Can somepony break something for me? I don’t care what, I just want to hear it smash really good.” Wheelie picked up the cans of spray paint and started working on a junked Scion tC. When he was done, the car was the same color purple as Twilight Sparkle, with the roof painted up like her mane. Scrappy nodded approval and Wheelie jumped into the air and body slammed the hapless car. It crumpled like tinfoil under the weight of the massive robot, metal screaming in protest as it deformed. “Yeah, that was good. But I’m still angry. Could you do whatever you did again? Please?” Wheelie nodded and started assembling a vaguely car-shaped hunk of metal. A front fender from a Cadillac was welded to the door of a Ford pickup, and the hood of a Honda. When the misshapen monstrosity was finished, he painted it to look like Discord. “Discord is the reason you’re in stone this season.” The Autobot picked up the hideous concoction and dropkicked it towards the crusher. It landed in an explosion of parts. “That helped. Thanks.” “Anything else we can do for you?” Nermal rubbed his head against the stony curls of Cozy’s mane. “I wanna go home. I want to bawl my eyes out and then eat an entire tub of ice cream. I want a hug. I want somepony to tell me they love me and mean it.” “Elmyra, I think this one’s all you.” Nermal hopped down and the precocious girl with a death grip wrapped her arms around Cozy’s barrel. “Feeling anything?” “I’m gonna love you, and hug you, and squeeze you to pieces!” “No. Is somebody hugging me?” “Yes. And if you can’t feel an Elmyra hug, you can’t feel anything. Be glad your ribs can’t be broken.” Nermal hopped back up on Cozy’s back and whispered into her ear. “I love you. For real. But don’t tell anybody ‘cause you’d ruin my reputation.” Cozy would’ve blushed if she could. “I can’t do anything about the crying or the ice cream, but you can technically go ‘home’ anytime you want.” “I think this is home now. Just keep the pigeons off me. And maybe bribe someone from IDW on my behalf…”