//------------------------------// // Muddying the Issue // Story: Good Clean Fun // by TimeBomb0 //------------------------------// “…And then she nearly gobbled up my backside!” “Really? That’s crazy!” You reply. “I wish I could’ve been in Ponyville on Nightmare Night. It sounded like a lot of fun.” “It sure was,” says your tan-coated friend with the patchy brown spots. “Don’t worry, I’m sure the next Nightmare Night will be a lot more fun. Maybe even twice as fun!” He stretches both of his forelegs to the sides to bring the point home. “I sure hope so,” you respond, adding a couple chuckles to his enthusiasm. Not a cloud hung in the sky as the two of you continued walking down the streets of Ponyville. You had spent most of the morning and afternoon playing and having fun with your friend Pipsqueak. What made today especially fun was that it happened to be Saturday. This meant not having your plot planted in a desk all day while you had to learn boring stuff like the multiplication table or what some old stallion did a really long time ago. No, today you are free from all that, and can do just about whatever you want on this wonderful day. “So what do you want to do next?” You ask. There must still be a couple hours of daylight left. “…erm, actually,” he starts up, looking at the sky to see where the sun is. “I need to get back home. My dad is holding a dinner for his new boss and wants me to be there to help impress him.” He turns back to you, giving you a sad face showing that he didn’t want to go. “Sorry.” “That’s okay,” you sigh. You couldn’t be mad at Pipsqueak; parents could be the ultimate killjoys whenever they wanted, after all. “Same time tomorrow, then?” “Of course!” he replies, his chipper voice already coming back. “Maybe we can play pirates and search for hidden gold again! That’s always fun!” “Maybe,” you laugh. Pipsqueak sure liked anything to do with pirates. He even wore the same costume he had for Nightmare Night the last time you played his game. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later,” he speaks up. You look around and notice that you had reached the street he lived on, which meant that your playdate had come to an end. “Okay, catch you tomorrow!” you reply. “Bye!” he calls out before turning around and walking off towards his house. You stand there and wave until he gets about halfway to his house before you head off on your own. You sigh and turn off onto another street; you have no idea how to spend the rest of today. It’s a rare weekend that Ms. Cheerilee doesn’t assign any homework, even rarer still that the weather is so nice as well. You want to take advantage of it as much as you can, but with Pipsqueak unable to play, you’re not sure what else you could be doing outside. Maybe I’ll just go home for the rest of the day, you think to yourself. After all, you have plenty of toys in your room to play with as well as several issues of The Magnificent Misadventures of the Mysterious Mare-Do-Well that you could read. You could also make yourself a quick snack or two before dinner time. Yeah, that sounds like a plan. Checking your surroundings, you turn and head off towards your home. As you walk, you notice that most of Ponyville’s citizens are out and about, talking to friends, selling goods out of a cart (like that nice orange mare who gave you a free apple when you first went there), or just going about their regular chores. You smile a little to yourself as you see everypony smile while they work and chat with hardly a care in the world. When you had first moved from Witherton, you thought you would never adjust to life in Ponyville. Sure, it wasn’t that different, but you had friends and knew how things worked back in your home town. To be forced to give all of that up and live someplace where you didn’t know anypony was just plain crazy to you, but you had no choice. You remember your worries quite clearly. What if you couldn’t make any friends? What if nopony liked you? What if you became the newest pet of some super-mean bullies? Fortunately for you, it turned out many of your fears were unfounded. It wasn’t even halfway into your first day of school when Pipsqueak offered to be your first new friend, an offer you gladly accepted. By the end of the week, you had finally gotten over your nervousness, and while you wouldn’t consider yourself the popular colt, you were able to at least have nice talks with the rest of the other students. Well, except for a few: Those two rich fillies who seem to have nothing nice to say to anyone else, for starters. Honestly, you never understood how having more money than somepony else automatically made them the better pony. And then there’s… …No. Don’t start thinking about that one. You don’t want to ruin the rest of your day focusing on her. She might not even be mean to you, but that doesn’t mean she won’t rudely intrude on your thoughts for far longer than you’d like. No, best to ignore that filly and just get back to thinking about what you’re gonna snack on while you enjoy the further exploits of Ponyville’s favorite masked he- “LOOK OUT!” Your daydreaming immediately comes to an end at this shout. You frantically turn your head every which way to find the source, but there’s no way you’ll be able to in this chaos. Every pony all around you is screaming and running in every direction, obscuring your vision and making you unable to find whatever it is you’re supposed to be looking out for. Just as quickly as they started running, all the ponies eventually scatter, leaving you in the middle of the street. You don’t spot anything down this part of the street, but you now notice a thunderous “splat” coming from behind you. You turn around as quickly as you can, but it’s already too late. Whatever’s coming up is too close for you to dodge. The only thing you can make out is something huge and brown-colored barreling towards you before- *SPLAT!* The next thing you know, you can’t breathe or see a thing, and are tumbling around in… something. Whatever it is, it feels wet and gross, almost like…like… You’re getting far too dizzy to focus now from both the lack of air and the spinning. If this doesn’t stop soon, you feel like you’re going to add some other gross liquids into this weird mess. *CRAAAAAASH!* Your trip inside the giant ball of something comes to a sudden end when it smacks into the side of a wall. All you know is that you’re now sitting down somewhere with your eyes firmly shut. You wait until the rest of Equestria stops spinning around your head before you dare open them, hoping to be in your bed after having a fever nightmare. That hope is shattered when you do finally open your eyes. Apparently, whatever that had crashed into you rolled onto an empty street and collided with the back wall of a vacant building, scattering its contents in every direction. You decide that checking your body for injuries would be a good idea. You give yourself a once-over and thankfully find nothing serious aside from a few sore spots. You are, however, nearly completely covered in…mud? Were you really picked up by a giant ball of mud? Just what - or who - in Equestria could be responsible for this? “WOO-HOO! LET’S DO THAT AGAIN!” There’s your answer. Right as you hear this, you spot a filly-shaped mass emerge from a pile of mud, her orange coat and purple mane barely visible through her new muddy coating. You know this filly by the name of… Scootaloo, you think. You wouldn’t consider yourself a friend to her, but from what you’ve gathered about her at school, she was always a troublemaker of sorts, especially when she was with- “SCOOTALOO, WHAT THE HAY WERE YA THINKIN’!?” Right on cue, another filly pokes her head out of another mud pile, this one sporting a pale yellow coat and a bow as red as her mane if they weren’t covered in the brown substance. You also know this filly from school. Her name is Apple Bloom, one of the nicer kids you’ve met since moving here. A bit stubborn at times, but you were still on decent ground with her. “Come on, Apple Bloom! You can’t tell me that wasn’t fun!” “Are y’all crazy? Even ah thought this plan to get our cutie mark was just silly!” “…what plan?” “Wait…y’all mean ya weren’t even tryin’ to get a cutie mark!?” Apple Bloom isn’t sure whether to be shocked or angry at this point, judging by the look on her face. “Well, of course I was trying to get a cutie mark!” retorts Scootaloo. “But who has time for plans? Earning a cutie mark is all about action, guts, getting dirty, and having a crazy amount of fun!” “Then how were we supposed to get our cutie marks makin’ a big ball of mud?” “I dunno.” the purple-maned pegasus shrugs. “But hey, nopony said our special talent couldn’t be making huge mud balls!” At this, Apple Bloom smacks her hoof to her face, making you snicker a little bit. “Scootaloo…” she replies, making the anger in her voice very clear. This argument goes on for at least another minute, with Apple Bloom getting madder and Scootaloo’s responses not helping matters. At this point, you’re kind of glad that they appear to have not noticed you in their bickering, which was now dangerously close to getting physical. Maybe it’d be best to sneak away while you still can before something really bad happens. “Oh my gosh! Are you okay?” Oh no… Neither of the two arguing fillies said this, and you know that they usually have adventures with a third filly. Even without this line of logic, you could never forget the identity of the sweet, caring voice that just called out in concern for you. You turn your head and finally catch her galloping towards you: The white unicorn filly was also covered nearly head to hoof in dirt, her curly purple and pink mane all messed up, and her light green eyes opened wide in worry. Unlike the other two crusaders, you know this filly’s name all too well. “S-Sweetie Belle…” “We’re so sorry!” She finally says once she reaches you. She frantically looks over your body to make sure you’re okay. “Are you alright? We didn’t hurt you too badly, did we?” “U-um, n-no, I’m…okay,” you squeak out as if a unicorn had magically turned the volume down on your voice. “You sure?” she keeps going, “I mean, maybe the mud’s hiding some of your injuries or someth-“ “-and at least I’m not the one who messed around with Zecora’s potions to try and force a cutie mark! Now THAT was just plain dumb!” “Well, maybe if ya didn’t spend so much time chasin’ after Rainbow Dash, ya’d already have yer cutie mark!” “You say one more word about Rainbow Dash, and I’ll stuff my hoof down your throat!” Apple Bloom and Scootaloo’s arguing finally grows loud enough to drown out your conversation. You’re not sure whether to be scared or thankful that they’ve distracted Sweetie from examining you more than your doctor. “Excuse me for a second,” Sweetie calmly says to you before turning to her friends. “Hey, girls!” “WHAT!?” Like clockwork, the other two Crusaders stop their bickering and turn towards her, directing their glares from each other to her. Their glares immediately turn into shock when they finally take note of a young colt covered in mud and still in slight shock. “Oh, horse-apples!” Scootaloo curses. You hear Sweetie gasp a little at her friend’s sudden strong language while her comrades quickly run up to join you. “Y’all aren’t too hurt, are ya?” asks Apple Bloom, her anger fully replaced with worry. “N-no, I’m okay, just…shook up, is all,” you reply. That mysterious unicorn wizard must have turned up your voice volume a little. “Well, that’s a relief,” says Scootaloo, “I, uh…I guess rolling a giant ball of mud through town to get my cutie mark wasn’t such a hot idea after all.” She rubs the back of her head with her hoof as she speaks. Somehow, you feel that apologies are not her forte. “Yeah, I’m sorry, too,” Apple Bloom chimes in, “Ah shoulda been checking if anypony was hurt instead of arguin’ with Scootaloo.” “I hope you’re not too mad at us,” says Sweetie Belle, giving an apologetic face that seems to twist your insides into a knot. “It’s o-okay…I’m not really mad,” you force out at all three of them. You try to give a warm smile, but probably look like you’re hiding something instead. “So…what do we all do now?” Apple Bloom asks as she looks around the street. It’s been a few minutes, but there still doesn’t seem to be an adult in sight. You suppose that weirder things must have happened to this town for nopony to give concern to a mudball rolling through the streets after it’s over. “I say we get out of here before some grown-ups show up and make us clean this mess up,” suggests Scootaloo. “Wouldn’t that be kinda mean?” Sweetie Belle pipes up. “Do you wanna clean up this whole street?” Scootaloo retorts, pointing her forehoof down the rest of the street. Deep down, you had a feeling you would agree with Scootaloo if you helped her roll the ball into town. “Well, it is a pretty big mess…” says Sweetie. “Good, then it’s settled!” Scootaloo interrupts, not letting her friend finish her thought. “Let’s all split up and get cleaned up before anyone finds out we caused this! Later!” Before anyone else could say anything, Scootaloo leaps out of her mud pile and runs off, leaving a trail of muddy hoof-prints. You somehow doubt she’ll get very far before she is busted. “Sooooo…” Sweetie starts up again, turning to Apple Bloom, “Are you going to stick around and clean up?” “Well, ah would, normally,” she replies, looking around to assess the damage or maybe find all the possible exits, “but I’m kinda tired, and Scootaloo’s the one who pushed the ball into town, so ah think it’s her mess to clean up. Ah’m just gonna get goin’ and wash myself off before anypony starts askin’ questions.” With this, Apple Bloom gets up and turns to leave in a different direction than her orange-coated friend. “Ah guess Ah’ll see ya tomorrow, Sweetie Belle. Ah’ll make sure to have a plan that doesn’t involve us makin’ a huge mess.” “Bye, Apple Bloom!” Sweetie cheerfully cries to her friend as she leaves, waving her limb even as she rounds a corner. It occurs to you that maybe now would be a good time to try and sneak away before Sweetie turns around and tries talking to you again. As quietly as you can, you get up and slowly tip-hoof towards an alley where you can round the corner and disappear- “Hey, wait!” So much for that. Sweetie Belle’s voice stops you dead in your tracks. You feel your heart climb into your neck as you hear her hooves clop along the ground, the volume for both growing as she steadily nears you. “You’re not going to go home like that, are you?” She asks once she’s almost right behind you. “Um… maybe?” You squeak again. Stupid wizard, you silently curse to yourself. “Oh… well, I don’t think your mom will be too happy to see you all muddy like that.” “Um…well, I, uh, guess so…” you reply. You don’t want to admit it, but she has a point. You had already taken a bath this morning, and your mother happened to be a neat freak of sorts. You aren’t looking forward to the stern talking-to you’re sure to get. “Well,” Sweetie continues, “It’s just that… I don’t want you to get in trouble for something we did. We already took you for a pretty bumpy ride.” Her voice trails off. You continue staring at the road ahead of you, not daring to turn around and face her. Whatever this filly is thinking, you have a bad feeling you’re not gonna like it. “You could take a bath at my house!” You wish you were wrong. “N-no, that’s okay!” you blurt out, trying and failing to make your legs move again. “I, uh, I’ll be fine…” “You sure?” she presses on, “It’s the least I could do for getting you into our mess.” “Um, I, it’s just, uh…” you stammer, keeping your head turned away from her. “Pretty please?” she asks again, “I just want to help.” Your only response is further stammering. What a time for your voice to fail you… You jump a little when you feel a soft, dirty hoof press onto your back. “Pleeeeeease?” Sweetie begs in a way that only fillies can. Against your better judgment, you turn your head behind you to meet her gaze. What little resolve you had instantly crumbles as you stare into her eyes. Her pretty green irises have grown nearly as wide as her eyes are open, and they shimmer in the bright sunlight. There’s no way you could turn this face down; to do so would be a crime punishable by banishment to the moon, or at least that’s how you feel. “O…okay,” you sigh, lowering your head in a defeated manner. “Great!” Sweetie exclaims, her soulful look immediately replaced by a big smile. “The Carousel Boutique’s only a short walk from here. My sister’s got a whole bunch of shampoos and stuff that’ll get you cleaned right up!” She lets go of your withers and runs in front of you, presumably in the general direction of the Boutique. “Come on! That mud’s gonna dry up if you don’t hurry!” she calls to you. With an incredible amount of willpower, you force your forelimb to lift off the ground and set itself down a few inches from where it originally was. Channeling all the drive in your body, you proceed to do the same to the rest of your legs until you find yourself walking again, directly behind the marshmallow-white filly as she leads you to what you hope will be a quick, private clean-up and a hasty retreat back home. ******************************* How does she do this to me? You’ve been trying to answer this question for quite some time now, and not just on the way to the Carousel Boutique. Ever since you first laid eyes on Sweetie on your first day at school, you always seemed to freeze up at the sight of her. No matter how many times you tried, you could never force yourself to talk like you normally would around your other friends whenever she was near. It always got worse whenever she was the one who tried to talk to you, always offering you to join her friends on another wild adventure. You could never accept her offers, though; it was like your insides couldn’t stand to see her and started twisting up to tell you to get away from her. The strangest thing was you almost always kept staring at her anyway, like there was just something... good? Bad? Horrible? You have no idea, yet there was something about her that just demanded your attention. You had nearly driven yourself crazy trying to figure this out, but the only other pony you dared to talk to about it was Pipsqueak, and he proved just as clueless. “Here we are!” Sweetie suddenly shouts, your concentration proving no match to her lovely voice. It’s at this point that you take note of a large and lavishly-decorated purple building in the shape of a carousel. You know this place to be the Carousel Boutique, Ponyville’s go-to stop for everyone’s clothing and fashion needs. It’s a store you wouldn’t be caught dead inside on any regular day - you are a colt, after all. Gotta keep up appearances! - but there’s no way you can turn back now. Thankfully, Sweetie leads you to the back of the store, where her sister’s living quarters are. This means you have less chance of being spotted by someone you know. You would definitely have to fake being sick on the next school day if that happened. “Okay, now we gotta be real quiet when we go in,” Sweetie speaks up as the two of near the back door. “Um, why?” you talk for the first time since you agreed to let her help you. “Because,” she hesitantly explains, “My sister really doesn’t like it when I get dirty and track mud into her house. We just gotta take our baths real quick and clean up our mess before-“ “SWEETIE BELLE!” You jump and take note of a few birds flying away in panic as this voice booms from out of nowhere. You nervously look around before you discover the voice’s source: looking out of a window on the second floor is a grown mare with the same white coat as Sweetie, her mane wrapped up in a towel and her coat shimmering in the sunlight. “Nevermind,” Sweetie sighs like she was told she couldn’t play with her dolls today. “Not another step, young lady!” The older mare calls out before bolting out of sight a mere second later. You hear the sound of hooves rushing down a flight of stairs before the door flings open and the mare stands before you, looking way more shocked than she should be. “Sweetie, look at you!” She speaks when she finds her voice again. “What in Equestria did you get up to?” “Nothing that I don’t normally get up to?” she replies with a cute look on her face. “Sweetie, you already had a bath today!” her sister exclaims, “And your mane was so clean and proper, too.” “But, Rarity, I-“ “No, no ‘buts’, young lady! You’re going to march right back upstairs and take another bath. You know our parents are coming to take you home tonight, and I simply can’t have you looking like you were playing in Applejack’s pig pens all day!” "Okay,” Sweetie grumbles while lowering her head. “But…my friend needs a bath too!” she suddenly continues, lifting her head back up to her sister. Finally noticing you’re there, Rarity looks at you and sees that you’re just as muddy as her younger sister. “Err,” she winces in disgust, “Can’t he just take a bath at his own house?” “Well, it’s kind of our fault that he’s so dirty right now,” Sweetie explains. “I just didn’t want his parents to be mad at him because of us.” “Sweetie, I just don’t think it’d be a good idea-“ “Pleeeeease?” Sweetie interjects, using the same soulful gaze that got you just a few minutes ago. It seems not even a grown-up can stand up to that face. Rarity tries to for about a second, but you see her expression crumble into a sad frown, and then into a soft smile. “Oh fine,” she relents, “I suppose he can clean up here.” “Hooray!” Sweetie shouts. “Thank you so much, big sister!” “I don’t think I could turn down a pony that needed a good cleaning, anyway,” she remarks, “But you both are going straight to the bath, and then he has to go right home. I’m afraid I can’t have two younglings running about my shop while I work on filling all these orders.” “We’ll be cleaned up before you know it!” Sweetie says as she starts to walk into the Boutique. She only takes a single step before her sister stops her again. “Ah-bup-bup! Hooves, please,” Rarity asks. Sweetie complies, presenting her forelegs to her older sister. Without warning, the towel upon Rarity’s head unwraps itself and moves down to Sweetie’s level, revealing her horn and deep violet mane. Now free from the towel, her mane falls to both sides of her head, hanging straight down and still with a little bit of moisture from the bath she had just got done taking. Working her magic, Rarity wipes off her little sister’s hooves with the towel, cleaning the mud off them so as not to leave a dirty trail in her house. “Okay, your turn,” she calls to you once Sweetie’s hooves are passably clean. You nervously lift your legs into the air and the towel immediately goes to work, firmly brushing each of your hooves to get all the dirt off them. It’s a bit rougher than you would have liked, but she gets the job done, leaving your hooves clean enough to walk into a fancy Canterlot ballroom if you needed to. “Alright,” Rarity says as she holds the dirty towel in front of her. “Go right upstairs and into the bathroom, you two. I want you both spic and span as fast as you can!”