//------------------------------// // Cutie Mark Crusaders Troll Fighting Division // Story: Ernest Saves Equestria // by Emerald Harp //------------------------------// Twilight slumped back in her chair, fighting down fresh waves of panic. Nightmare Moon’s resurgent voice was still echoing through her mind. Slowly, she reached forward and turned the radio off. “What are we going to do?” asked Spike. Dread creased the baby dragon’s terrified face. “What are we going to do?” repeated an artificial voice with an Irish accent. The speaker was currently holding a screwdriver against what passed for its head making small adjustments to its circuitry. To Twilight it looked like the robot was polishing its non-existent ears with a q-tip. “I’ll bloody tell ya what w---- *bzzt* ---na do.” The robot put down the tool and the blue screen that was being displayed on the construct’s monitor refreshed itself. The yellow "Have a Nice Day" face turned grim after the quick reboot. “We commandeer all the cow-juice we can lay our hands on, hunker down, and hold out until the Crystal Calvary come galloping in at the last second.” "But what about all the little fillies and colts?" asked Spike. "They'll be coming after them to make more trolls." The robot's metal fingers balled into fists. "I know, lad. We gotta keep them in a spot that can be defended until Christ comes back or Hell freezes over. How many wee ones are in this town anyway?" Spike counted on his talons. "A couple of hundred." "Sweet Jaysus," muttered the construct. A slow laugh rolled from the adjoining room. "Yeah, if I was in your shoes, I’d be praying. Not that it’d do much good.” “Quiet, you,” growled Willey. “I’m serious. That Pony of Shadows is an evil bitch. She will take this town apart and move on to the next, and the next, until someone grows a pair of big brass ones and knocks her the F out for good.” The troll sighed. “Too bad Worell got himself eaten. He could have stopped her. He stopped my dad and he was the meanest *#$(-sucker on the block.” “But I thought you wanted this,” said Spike, his voice dripping with contempt. “Didn’t you want to take over Equestria and enslave everypony?” “Sure, I still want that. But this Pony of Shadows, or Nightmare Moon . . . whoever the hell this horse is, is bad for everyone. She’s only using my cousins. She’ll get rid of them like yesterday’s snot rag once she’s won.” Twilight glanced at the small oaken table with the six wooden dolls on it. She could not bear to let her eyes linger on the horrified faces of her friends and quickly looked away. The baby dragon followed his mentor’s gaze. “How about I put those . . . our . . . ,” Spike struggled to find the right words for the dolls without calling them dolls. “How about I put those away?” “Put them in the safe for now. Thank you, Spike.” Her assistant nodded and hesitantly approached the table like he was about to lay a dear friend in a coffin. Before he could take another step, Spike felt a metal hand on his shoulder. The little dragon looked up at the robot. “It’s alright, lad. We’ll bring em back.” Without another word, the robot reverently picked up five of the six dolls. “Just show me where you want them kept safe.” Spike nodded and fought back the tears stinging his eyes. He wrapped his talons around the doll that was left. “Thanks, Willie. You’re alright. Bring them over here to this room, and if you don’t mind, could you look away while I open this.” “Sure.” Twilight watched the exchange between her assistant and Ernest’s creation. It was still proof that the magic of friendship was just as powerful as ever and that there was still hope. Steeling herself she turned herself to face the troll. “He’s not dead.” The troll blinked. “What?” “Ernest is not dead,” Twilight repeated. “He’ll be here with my brother and the rest of the Crystal Guard to put an end to this nightmare.” Rotnart chewed on this new revelation for several seconds. “Why am I not surprised?” murmured the troll. “I should have known Discord was pulling my leg. I don’t think Ernest can die to begin with.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “We may have a shot after all.” “We?!” shouted Spike from the other room where the safe was. He poked his head out into the hallway and yelled, “You turned our friends into dolls. There’s no ‘we’ here.” “If you lose, I lose, genius. I’m not saying we have to be buddies, but I need you and you need me. Now I can turn one of your friends back to the way they were as a show of good faith. The rest are going to have to wait until you can get them inside that tree my brother took over.” Spike hesitated and looked at the doll in his claws. It was the Luna figure, darkly splendid in its frozen anguish. Willie looked at the baby dragon, knowing that he was considering the troll’s offer. The automaton then regarded the open safe with the five dolls in it. Seconds ticked by until at last Willie acted. He closed the door, spun the combination lock, and then re-hung a portrait of a white alicorn with a red mane over the safe box. Finally, Spike broke the silence and stared hatefully at the pinned troll, putting his body in-between the doll and the monster protectively. “You can’t expect us to believe a word you say.” “Actually, lad, according to what my memory log is saying, he’s right.” All eyes turned to the robot as he glided out of the safe room on his rubber wheels. “At least on the part about putting your friends in the tree and changing them back. Old Lady Hackmore did the same thing with some dolls that were a couple of hundred years old. Those kids walked out of the tree like they had just woke up from a long winter’s nap.” Twilight glared at the troll and asked, “Why can’t you change them all back?” “Because, ‘a’ I don’t want to. And ‘b’ I can’t.” “Why can’t you?” asked the alicorn. “I’d die. It’s as simple as that. That unicorn my dad used to work for made it so that it would be very hazardous to a troll’s health if he unmade too many dolls. It’s a safety measure just in case an enterprising troll such as myself ever found himself in a position like mine bartering for his life.” The Princess of Friendship regarded the pin-cushioned troll and said nothing. “Twilight . . . we can’t trust him,” stated Spike. The pony opened her mouth to speak, but before she could utter a syllable, the front door of the library burst open with a deafening “wham.” Twilight winced and fought the urge to blast whatever or whomever it was that had slammed open the entrance to the library. “Twilight? Twilight!” a hysterical pony shouted. “Over here!” called the Princes. The noise of galloping hooves reverberated off the walls until Mayor Mare skidded to a stop in front of the Princess and her friends. The Mayor’s jaw dropped in shock. She had heard that the Princess of Friendship had been hard at work. Rumor had it she was interrogating a captured troll and that Zecora had summoned something from a different plane. But hearing about it and seeing them were two very different things. “Well, hello there. My name is Rotnart, king of the trolls. What’s your name? Do you have kids?” asked the prisoner with fake jovialness. The earth pony’s eyes took in the pinned troll and the giant robotic biped and could not decide which terrified her more at the moment. The alicorn sighed, her patience running thin. “Ignore him. I’ll explain everything later, Mayor. Now, what is it?” The elder earth pony tore her gaze away from the twin curiosities. Panic laced her every word as she gave her message. “They’re everywhere. Monsters, little monsters are terrorizing the town.” To add emphasis to her warning, a troll smashed through one of the upper windows of the library. The pint-sized terrorist crash-landed into several bookcases, reducing some to splinters and damaging others. The troll shook off the impact and lunged at the baby dragon. Just as Spike’s would be assailant was about to tackle him, the troll was caught in midair by a metal hand. “Not today, freak,” muttered Willie. The automaton held the squirming troll in his grip long enough for two small cannons to deploy from a cavity in his dorsal housing. Before the terrified abomination could snap his fingers and escape, the troll was doused in milk. Nothing was left of the monster except a steaming pile of goo slipping through the A.I’s fingers. Other trolls tried to enter through the hole made in the library, but a few well-placed bolts of energy from the alicorn dissuaded them from entering. Spike covered his nose from the horrible stench. “Thanks, Willie. You might want to wash your hands th-----.” “Look out!” cried Mayor Mare. But her warning came too late, and one of the structurally compromised book cases came crashing down on top of the lavender dragon. “Spike!” shrieked Twilight. Before Willie or the Mayor could lift the heavy furniture off their friend, Twilight threw the case away down the hall with her adrenaline fueled magic. The bookcase crashed against the far wall and shattered. Twilight dug underneath the pile of heavy books and papers until she found her friend, breathing but unresponsive. She nuzzled the lavender dragon and fought against the rising panic thumping in time with her heart. “We got to get him to a hospital! Now!” Twilight yelled hysterically. “I’ll take him,” volunteered the Mayor, scooping up Spike and putting him on her back. The city official looked at Twilight. “Don’t worry about Spike. Protect the town; you’re the only one who can.” She turned and looked at Willy. “And you, protect her,” the Mayor said, pointing at Twilight. “You got it, Governor,” the robot said. “Come on Princess, we gotta move.” Twilight took a calming breath, gritted her teeth, and galloped out of the library followed closely by her new bodyguard and the Mayor. The voices of his goalers faded until the huge oak door slammed shut. Rotnart considered his predicament. From his vantage point he could see the head of the Princess Luna statue poking up from the pile of books on the floor. Her horrified eyes were staring directly at him. He sighed, and said to the statue. “Don’t look at me like that.” ****************************** Utter pandemonium ruled the town of Ponyville. The chaos unleashed by Discord a few years ago was dwarfed by the invasion of the furry midget monsters from the Everfree Forest. Ponies and trolls were running and flying in every direction. Foals were being turned to dolls and taken into the forest faster than the monsters could be dispatched with milk. Floating houses, ice cream missiles, and terror filled the night as anarchy ripped the town apart. A tiny pony in a pirate costume galloped down the alleys and streets of Ponyville. His heart hammering in his chest, the pony knew he could not keep up this pace for much longer. He looked around him to make sure none of the trolls in the air or on the ground were paying attention to him. Spying a large lilac bush across the street in front of a sky-blue cottage, Pipsqueak took his chance and bolted straight at the plant. He breathed a small sigh of relief as the scent of the purple flower filled his nose. The foal’s respite was short-lived when two trolls landed on the roof of the cottage. Pipsqueak watched in horror as the hairy twitchy demons tore apart the house faster than a starving parasprite with their bare hands. The scared ponies inside mercifully did not have time to comprehend what happened next. One troll snapped her fingers. The adult unicorns froze and morphed into ripe cherries still bearing equine looks of terror. A second monster jumped down into the house, his massive tail twitching in anticipation. He pushed aside a large sofa to find a little pegasus cowering before him. “No,” Pipsqueak mouthed silently, and willed the pony to fly away with all his might. This was not to be. The troll leered at the pegasus for a moment before grabbing the pony by the hooves. The troll laughed as he forced the foal to look upon her warped parents. The tears forming in the youngling’s eyes froze when she was turned into a small wooden statue. Pipsqueak buried his face in his hooves and suppressed the sobs that wracked his body. He did not grieve for long. A twig snapped behind him. He whirled around just as a little troll only slightly taller than he was charged at him. With a yelp of terror Pip ducked under the laughing monstrosity. His pirate hat was grabbed off his head when the troll sailed over him. The hatless pirate scrambled out of his hiding place, trying to put as much distance between himself and the nightmare chasing him. The troll garbled something at him and tittered. Pipsqueak could hear the rapid stomping of the monster as it closed the gap between them. The pony galloped across a road, not caring what direction he was running. As soon as he crossed the street, he heard a deafening roar and then a loud crunch at his back. He turned and saw a welcome sight. The Cutie Mark Crusaders garbed in their talent show regalia had arrived in their new machine that Scootaloo had built. The troll’s convulsing feet were sticking out of the engine compartment. The new hole in the truck was ironically next to an older dent made by a large troll face. In spite of the dangerous situation he was still in, Pipsqueak could not help but wonder why Scootaloo had fabricated such an ungainly beast of a machine. It looked like it was made for something four times her size. “Hey, Pipsqueak, you alright?” asked a familiar voice The little foal tore his eyes off the truck and watched three fillies with waterguns climb out of the vehicle. “Uh, yeah. Thanks Crusaders.” Applebloom climbed up to the hood of the truck and shot the troll in the engine compartment. The troll bubbled and melted all over the motor. Scootaloo joined her and pinched her nose. “Celestia’s crown, those things stink. And did you have to shoot him there. This engine is fried for sure now with all that goo inside it.” The earth pony filly shrugged. “I’m pretty sure your truck was toast anyway with the crater that troll made.” “Hey, if you two are done up there, I could use some help.” Pipsqueak watched Sweetie Belle soak a brace of small trolls. The pirate rubbed his eyes. No, it was the same troll bisected in half. The half with the arms swore and cursed at the white filly while its legs tried to run away. They did not get far. “Sweet Luna, what’s in those water guns?” Pipsqueak asked. “Milk,” answered Sweetie Belle. “They are very lactose intolerant.” “Here, catch,” said one of the Crusaders. Pipsqueak was nearly hit in the face with a pink water pistol. “You know how to work one of those?” asked Scootaloo. The small pony turned the girly toy over in his hooves. “No. We weren’t allowed to have anything fun in Trottingham.” “You see that orange trigger there? Just squeeze that,” instructed Apple Bloom. Pipsqueak obeyed and shot himself in the face with a stream of white liquid. “Face it forward. And don’t waste your ammo,” scolded the orange pegasus. “Sorry,” Pipsqueak said bashfully, his cheeks reddening. “So where were you three going?” “City Hall. That’s where everypony our age is hunkering down until this mess is over.” answered the earth pony. “That’s where Twilight and her robot pal are.” “Robot pal?” asked the pirate. Before the Crusaders could explain, a loud cry pierced the night. “Help! Anypony! Help!” The four foals looked at each other. “That’s Twilight. She’s at the library,” declared the white unicorn. “But, we just saw her a minute ago on the other side of town. How did she get back to her place so fast?” asked Scootaloo. “It doesn’t matter. We gotta move,” replied Sweetie Belle. ****************************** “Help! Anypony! Help!” Rotnart called, projecting his loud plea out the hole his cousin had made earlier. Using the lavender alicorn's voice to cry for help was most unbecoming of a troll king, but under the circumstances . . . . He also knew he was taking a risk by doing this, but he was getting tired of being pin cushioned to the table he was on. The troll looked down at his body, the long thin pins lodged in his hide glinted in the moonlight. He tried again to move his fingers and toes, nothing. And all the while the half-buried Luna doll seemed to glare accusingly at him. Rotnart sighed and drew breath to cry out again. “What’s the matter, Troll King? You seem to be stuck,” said a cold voice from above. The troll choked on the air that had gotten stuck in his throat. His ears perked up as he moved his head around the room. Seconds passed until finally a vaporous black cloud not unlike car exhaust floated down from the hole in the ceiling. Dark laughter echoed from the black mass of air as it hovered in front of Rotnart. "Greetings, mighty Rotnart. We meet again," it said. "Oh, sh!t," whispered the pinned creature. He recognized the voice, and the evil being it belonged to. The cloud morphed into a towering ebony monster that made the troll grow pale in dread. "I'm surprised you yet live. I would have thought either my spell would have ended you, or the ponies would have executed your filthy hide by now." Rotnart shrugged as much as the pins in his shoulders would allow. "Well, Twilight and her gang thought I was just so cute and cuddly and so very good at making little statues they decided to keep me as a gardener. This is a golden job opportunity for me. I mean being king is hard work; no vacations, on call 24/7, you gotta tell everyone what to do all the time. And since you were doing such a good job at backstabbing me and manipulating my brother, I thought to myself 'what's the point? She has all the qualities of a ruler. Why not just retire, and move to the country?' I mean, have you seen this place?" The alicorn nodded. "Indeed. But you see dear Rotnart, you're supposed to be dead. A martyr for the cause, my cause. I can't disappoint your brother and your vile kin and tell them you’re alive when they have gracefully accepted your passing. That would be so . . . inconvenient for all of us. Wouldn't you agree?" Rotnart licked his lips and tasted the sweat pouring off his brow. "I appreciate your position. But is there anything I can do or say to make you reconsider my well-being?" "I'm afraid not," the Pony of Shadow's horn glowed in black malice. "Any last words?" "Yeah. Eat $hi! and die, you fat F*#&king Cu*t W*#re." Rotnart would have flipped her the bird with both hands, but instead he settled on spitting at her. He hawked a big lugie her way, but he misjudged the angle, and the spit wad didn’t get anywhere near her. "Eloquent as ever," smiled the alicorn. "Goodbye, peasant." The troll watched as the ball of magic held at the tip of the pony's horn slowly came his way. He braced for his inevitable end. However, a white stream of liquid appeared out of nowhere and struck the alicon in the eye, breaking her concentration. The gathered energy dissolved like melting ice. The Pony of Shadows roared, "What is the meaning of this? Who dares assault my person?" "Cutie Mark Crusaders Troll Fighting Division," howled four tiny costumed ponies armed with milk guns. The group of ponies emptied the contents of their weapons at the alicorn, but this was no troll they faced. The Equestrians soon found that out when the last drop of milk from their guns was fired and yet their target still stood. The four scared ponies and the amused alicorn stared at one another. “Tell me,” said the Pony of Shadows. “Did you bring me some candy for an offering so I don’t take your lives?” The black alicorn opened her mouth to reveal a set of very sharp teeth and a very long serpentine tongue. The Crusaders and Pipsqueak glanced at each other. All four shook their heads, too afraid to speak. “A pity,” the ebony pony licked her lips. “As much as I know Rabuf could use you four in his tree-hatchery, I can’t break tradition if candy is not provided.” As the alicorn advanced on the helpless ponies, a great wad of green phlegm landed on the side of her face. The area of her head that was not covered by her armor began to sizzle and cook. Nightmare Night gave an ear-shattering scream as she thrashed about the room in pain. The pony pawed at her face with her shod hooves. With a final hate-filled glare at Rotnart, she shot up into the air through the makeshift entrance in the ceiling. “This isn’t over,” she called down to the troll. Rotnart smirked up at her disappearing form. “It’s a date, bitch.” The troll turned his gaze back to look at his rescuers only to find his vision filled with water guns pointed at his face. “Don’t move, troll,” said the unicorn. The troll king gave the young pony a ‘Really?’ look but kept his mouth shut. He looked at the faces of his new captors until he found one he recognized. “Oh, hey, Pipsqueak, how’s it goin?” “Shut it, Rotnart. Give me one good reason not to pull the trigger on this gun I just learned how to use.” “Because you’re dry. I got a feeling we wouldn’t be having this talk if any of you four had any milk left in those Super Soakers.” “We can always get more,” said the earth pony through clenched teeth. She nearly had to bite off each word; she was so mad. “Honey, I have no doubt,” replied the troll. “However, I’d like to point out I just saved your lives a second ago.” “Yeah, so? We saved yours before that,” stated the pegasus. “If we’d known you were here, we would have let The Pony of Shadows do her thing. We thought Twilight was here. We heard her voice.” Rotnart squirmed under the scrutiny of the four children. “Yeah, that was me.” Sweetie Belle huffed her cheeks and stamped her hooves in frustration. She started looking into the various rooms and hallways. “There’s gotta be some milk in here somewhere.” “Check the fridge,” said Apple Bloom. “Twilight always keep some around for her cereal.” Sensing his life was about to be cut short, the troll started talking very quickly. “Hey, hey, no need for that. I got something better than milk. Pipsqueak, turn around. Princess Luna is on the floor right behind you.” “What?” asked the little colt. He spun around and sure enough, after shifting some books and papers, he found the alicorn doll. His eyes widened as he picked up his favorite Princess. The Crusaders drew in sharp breaths and stared at the sculpture. At this point the four foals took in the damage that had been done to the library. “What happened here?” asked the little pirate. “Why was Princess Luna left on the floor with the rest of this rubbish? And where are the other dolls you made?” “The others were locked up in a safe. I’ll explain all that later. The important thing is I can change her back,” declared the troll. “I can put Luna back the way she was, good as new. Just take these pins out of me.” The four ponies looked at each other and then looked at the doll cradled in Pipsqueak’s hooves. Seeing the Equestrians hesitate, Rotnart growled with exasperation, “By Trantor’s hairy sack, not this again,” the troll sighed. “Look, while we stand around and ask ourselves if this is ‘a good idea,’ and ‘will the nasty troll rape us when we let him loose?’ your buddies are being changed to dolls, and your parents . . . don’t get me started on the grownups. Now you can either stand around and let your town get eaten, you can leave me here to die, go out there and get turned to dolls by some really bad hombres, or you can let me help you and maybe have a fighting chance of pulling through this thing in one piece. I know which one I’d pick, but I’m not you. Just make a choice. I won’t hurt you. There is nothing for me to gain by doing so. I need friends, and I think you do too.” Sweetie Belle was the first to break the silence after the troll’s speech. “I’m still going to find that milk. I’m thirsty.”