//------------------------------// // "What's the worse that can happen?" // Story: An Extraordinary Saturday Night // by Mr Unidentified //------------------------------// Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo, now in their adult years, lie separate from each other staring at a television. Sweetie belle laid sideways as she inclined on her back in a lounge chair, her forelegs draped lazily over her torso. Scootaloo laid on her backside with her wings tucked to the side, limbs dead in weight as they hung off the side of the sofa that was summoned by Sweetie Belle. The Television in question was showcasing some odd and obscure movies that ranged from moderately interesting to downright boring. It was late at night in Equestria, about a few hours after Luna had raised the moon. Past midnight, if one were to guess. There was something oddly profound about watching some obscure movies with a friend so late at night. The Crusaders had planned to hang out a little more now that they’ve reached adulthood and moved on to their adult lives. They even decided to get together back into the old clubhouse they shared as fillies. The group got together fairly easily after word got out and they had a decent time for the most part. Much to the jubilation of Scootaloo... for a while. Sweetie Belle and Applebloom took their adult lives fairly well. They seemed to live happy and (relatively) normal lives. But for Scootaloo… While her career was fine, she was still dissatisfied with life. Her years of adulthood mainly consisted of her battling physical and mental disorders with limited success. And whatever fleeting joys she had acquired in her early life simply faded into obscurity as she grew older. The sense of foal-like wonder had come and gone, leaving only a bitter fondue of emotions bubbling beneath a facade of indifference. For Scootaloo, nobody told her that getting to adulthood would be short and bittersweet. She wasn’t ready for it when it had arrived under her nose, and she still isn't ready to face it now. Nobody told her adulthood would suck. It wasn't that life itself sucked. Life in Equestria was a happy one. But she never felt she could be who she really wanted to be. She never knew how to fly with the same level of grace and talent as she fondly fantasized of having, like Rainbow Dash. Oh, she tried. But the wings themselves were refusing to do anything right. They grew at a much smaller rate compared to most Pegasi. She remembered from years prior that doctors would constantly say the 'Ulna' bones were not growing with the normal level of metabolism, thus her inhibiting wingspan and flight. Combine that with the dread that you will never be as good as your Idol because of something that is beyond your control, and the result is an ugly concoction of dreadful debilitating depression. The early day of the get-together for the retired Crusaders was going fine for the most part. Applebloom had brought a card deck of a popular game from down in Appleoosa called "One." It was confusing at first for Scootaloo, but it was actually quite fun. The goal was to place cards on the discard pile from your hooves if both cards either share the same color or number while trying to lose all the cards in your hooves. There were also other cards that influence the game in mischievous ways to mess with your friends, such as "reverses", "skips", or "draw" cards. That was fun for a while. Then they got to drinking and talking about life in general, and that's when things took a sour turn for Scootaloo. See, Sweetie Belle and Applebloom had their lives set up and all fine. But hers was a downward spiral of ailments. They would talk and talk and talk about them a lot, but when it came to her, she would bat the subject away with an expert social parry by discussing her past life, not her current life. The other two didn't seem to notice her lack of current-time stories or experiences and simply went along with it, much to the relief of Scootaloo's anxiety. She didn't want to have to explain to her friends that her life sucked. At least it was good back then, before adulthood. that she could say for certain. As the day soon turned to evening and then night, the party (if you could call it that) was starting to fade into a lull. Applebloom hung out with the group for a little while before reluctantly heading off to bed. Still living with the Apple Family on their farmstead, this consequentially meant that she was still stuck on a curfew -- of which she was not happy about. That left Sweetie and Scootaloo alone with the TV and their thoughts. Something Scootaloo dreaded. Scootaloo hated thinking. It made her mind wander down memory lane. And so she distracts herself. “I wonder why they always show Cowponies vs Aliens this late at night?” Scootaloo asked nonchalantly. “I dunno,” Sweetie answered with just about the same level of interest. "I guess the niche is popular these days." “... I wonder if it's offensive to say cowpony to an apploosian now?” “Snkrt - yeah you better be careful.” Sweetie Belle snickers. “You wouldn’t want to offend Applejack or Applebloom.” “Do you think if the Aliens actually came to Equestria, they would actually want to go after the Cowponies first? Wouldn’t they, like, go after Canterlot, the seat of the government first? Or Manehattan? Any big city, really? It doesn’t make sense. And why would the Cowponies have any chance of winning?” Scootaloo’s question eventually turned into a rant, and Sweetie could only groan as her movie and her frustration was drowned out by the sound of Scootaloo griping. “I don't know and I don't really care much for it. If you don’t like the concept, why don't you change the channel?” Sweetie interjected. “Because nothing else is good! All of them are boring shows about old ponies buying pawn items or some crappy reality TV shows. Boooooring!” “sigh -- Well, then I don’t know what to tell you. Just enjoy whatever there is to enjoy.” Sweetie deflected. The innocuous repartee had ended as quickly as it began. Scoots opened her mouth to speak, and nothing emerged. Deflated, she sunk back to her couch in defeat. Staring at the screen, she continued to reminisce about how stupid this all seemed in hindsight. How her boring adulthood led to her wanting to make this get-together happen. How being reunited with her old friends would hopefully put some spark back into her boring, monotone life. She had hoped that this get-together would do…  Well, something. But she got nothing. Just a quiet evening, with one of their friends opting to go to bed early. Scootaloo couldn’t win, it seems. And she finally admits defeat with a guttural groan. “Lemme tell ya, Sweetie Belle,” Scootaloo mumbled atonally with a hint of self-deprecating mirth. “This is not how I imagined life would be.” That got Sweetie’s attention. Her vision yanked from the movie, Sweetie turned her head to Scootaloo. The statement, in particular, wasn’t thought-provoking, but coming from the mare whom Sweetie expected to be full of life and energy, now seemingly despondent; it definitely hooked her. “... Well, What do you mean? 'Not how you imagined it' -- W-What does that mean?” Sweetie asked, genuine curiosity in her tone. Scootaloo traded a glance with her. For a moment, she contemplated. Contemplated whether or not this conversation was worth pursuing in the first place. Whether or not this get-together was worth it in the first place. Whether or not this stunt on finding the ignorant bliss of youth was worth it in the first place. She had already been willing to accept defeat. She felt that her attempts of seeking this fleeting moment were all for naught. Her anxious mood nowadays crippled her ability to believe that she could find joy now. A seemingly innocent question that sparked a tsunami of jumbled half-thoughts in her mind. One of them shouted louder than all the others. 'Is it worth it now?' Scootaloo noticed that Sweetie was still staring at her, somewhat incredulously, but otherwise waiting patiently for an answer. And with such little Agency, she seemed to be stuck in the least desirable position she could imagine. She glanced down at the wall behind Sweetie Belle, seemingly trying to find a way out. She didn't want her friend to worry, yet she now had her undivided attention on her problems in life. She wanted nothing more in the world than to just say 'nothing' and just pretend it was something the alcohol forced her to say. Or come up with some shallow backstory about how she had a bad day at work or... something. She looked back into her eyes again, and saw them still waiting patiently. Crap. She couldn't just say nothing. She felt forced to answer, and she struggled to find the right words. If she was gonna answer though, she might as well say it right. She deserves that much. “... Well, apart from the crippling anxiety, the debilitating loneliness, the soul-crushing and inhibiting physical disorder I got preventing me to fly... It’s… also incredibly boring.” She finished lamely. “I mean, here we are, a couple of young ponies; it’s Saturday night, and… we’re just sitting here. Watching TV as we waste time in the dark.” Sweetie felt her brows raise a little at such an unexpectedly remorseful answer. Sensing Scootaloo's frustration and another incoming rant, she attempted to lighten the mood, “We’re young ponies?” the unicorn lightheartedly jaunted. “Well… we’re kind of young… and... I guess kind of old too.” Scootaloo responded with deadpan humor. “Okay, but I don’t get it though,” Sweetie rolled her body to a more comfortable position, sitting on her haunches to face Scootaloo, “You wanted us to get together, and we did; we had some party games, and we drank a little; Then Applebloom left, you turned on the TV and tuned it to this channel to sit down on the couch to watch; and now you’re complaining about it?” “Because I would very much rather we do something else.” Scootaloo griped with a huff. “Well, like what?” Sweetie Belle Suggests, which only annoyed Scootaloo. “I- agh, I don’t know Sweetie Belle! Whatever it is that young ponies do!” she flared her wings in tandem to her outburst. “Like what?” Sweetie presses forcefully, knitting her brow. “Oh for- You know the things that they do Sweetie Belle, they- they go to concerts, or they- they go on road trips, or to music festivals, to the carnivals, or on hikin' trips!"  Scootaloo’s voice grew more and more wistful as she continued down the list, "Going to the beach with your friends, sittin' by the bonfire, telling stories, making memories, falling in love…” She stops with a painful tug at her heart. As she blinked hard, her tiny smile falters as her wings folded neatly to her sides. “... And I never got to do any of that stuff," she continued with a small whimper, "I was so busy getting my Cutie Mark for half of my foal hood that I never stopped to ask myself what would happen after I got it.” Sweetie Belle raised a brow, “We… kind of already answered that.” “I mean besides helping other ponies get their Cutie Marks. I mean about adulthood in general, young adulthood specifically.” Scootaloo seemed to have sunk deeper into the couch. “You only get to be young once, and... and I blew it.” She finishes with a hint of melancholy. Sweetie could see Scootaloo's ears droop to the sides of her face, her eyes longingly staring at the TV. She wasn't expecting such a sour turn from an otherwise normal night. She attempts to salvage the situation once more with her presence. “You know,” Sweetie Belle interjects, “I’ve been to music festivals before, and let me tell you: Hoofchella is not great. 15,000 ponies all using the same ten port-a-potties at once; the music sucked; the food sucked; the smell sucked.”  She took a pause. “Although, I did hear the mud orgies are pretty fun.” “You’re missing the point, Sweetie Belle," Scootaloo angrily interjects, "It doesn’t have to be music festivals specifically; it doesn’t have to be any of those things.” The unicorn knitted her brow in confusion at the pegasus' words, “Well, then what are you talking about?” Sweetie asked, fed up at how his conversation was going nowhere. “I’m talking about fun!” Scootaloo exasperates, spreading her hooves out in an expanding motion. “Surely, you’ve heard of fun, right? Well, I never get to have fun! You can't tell me ponies out there aren't having fun! I know young ponies do it, I’ve seen it on TV and in the Movies and everywhere I go! I-I-I want to be one of those ponies, I want to be one of the funhavers!” Sweetie was taken aback by the sudden outburst but shook it off quickly, her mind working miles a minute trying to calm her friend, “Well… what is fun to you then?” Scootaloo opened her mouth to answer but the words found no voice. Her mind trekked back to all of the things that used to bring her joy; the red scooter, now gone and too small for her size--and even if she got another one, it never felt the same as it did in her youth; Flying was still taking practice, and she grew to dread it as days pass by due to her inadequacy; Hanging out with Rainbow Dash was more difficult as the element bearers move on with their lives. And that left with only this: The memory of Scootaloo trying to get the Crusaders to hang out in the old clubhouse, only for it to end in mediocrity.  After Scootaloo pondered this question for seemingly forever, a raucous sigh escaped her lips. “Ugh, basically nothing at this point.” She finished lamely. “Well, I don’t know what to tell you then," Sweetie shrugged, "I have no idea what you want, and it sounds like you don’t either.” Scootaloo sighs, limbs flailing with exuberance. She struggled to voice her wanton desires. “Agh, I-I want… I want to have… new adventures, new things to try, new experiences to explore… I-I mean, at this point, it could be anything. Frankly, I want it to be anything.” Sweetie Belle’s ears perked and stood at attention upon hearing the words “new experiences”, her eyes glued to Scootaloo. When she finished her request, Sweetie guffawed aloud with a belly laugh. “Really? is that all?" She guffawed again. "If you wanted new experiences, I can get you new experiences,” Sweetie emphasized her words, finishing with a sly expression on her face, "All you had to do was ask." Scootaloo had seen this face before. She had seen it far too many times on her friends who thought they had a good idea only for it to end horribly, horribly wrong. And this particular expression spoke to her profoundly; Sweetie Belle’s capricious attitude, and how her facial movement accentuated that suspicion immensely. It was the expression on her features that spelled out: ‘I’m going to do something to help you, and you are not going to like it.’ And it gave off several red flags for Scootaloo. “I… I’m not gonna be dragged into a herd of yours or something, aren’t I?” Scootaloo spoke slowly. “Wh- I- No!” Sweetie shouted, apparently appalled at the request… or at least, that’s what Scootaloo interpreted. Sweetie Belle planted a hoof to her face, “Oh for - sigh - Just wait here for a minute.” She quickly got up, her horn glowing until a sudden and bright pop of light temporarily flashed in front of her eyes, leaving the stench of ozone in the air. Where there had once been Sweetie Belle, now laid an empty dormant chair as she teleported away.  “Ugh.” Scootaloo groaned, sinking back into the sofa with that familiar sense of boredom drilled into her psyche. One she desperately needed to get away from. Her mind constantly ruminated on Sweetie’s answer on giving Scootaloo new experiences and wondered just what exactly she meant by that.  Dozens of scenarios ran through her head. Going skinny dipping, taking a ride as stowaways on a train, or whatever extremities she could think of. And none of it did wonders to her anxiety, causing her heart to beat a little quicker than she would like. Taking a few moments conducting a breathing exercise, she felt herself physically calm down. Mentally, she tried to stop thinking about it too much. It proved to be difficult. Her mind attempted to drift on to more positive thoughts. She thought of the briskness of the air rushing against her skin in her youth, riding around the red rocket scooter around ponyville to pass the time. The fond memory of the sweet, citrus-scented summer air pervading her nostrils calmed her down significantly. Sweet Celestia, what Scootaloo wouldn’t give to be able to fly at her full potential. Another sudden flash materialized in the air, startling scootaloo enough for her to fall off the Sofa. Sweetie Belle teleported back into existence moments later and was greeted with the sight of her Pegasus friend sprawled out on the floor face first. “Um… when you’re done kissing the floor, I have some good news to share with you.” Scootaloo’s response was a muffled groan as she got on her hooves, groggily standing on all fours. “What is it, and why is my gut telling me that I won’t like it?” “You will like it, but I need you to trust me. Do you trust me?” Red flag, Scoots thought to herself. “No. Not even a little bit.” Scootaloo answered quickly. “I have no idea what your intentions are, and you haven’t told me what you’re trying to do. And do you know just how many times scenarios end badly with the phrase 'do you trust me?' A lot. Like a lot, lot!" “I’m trying to help you,” Sweetie Belle innocuously assuaged with a dismissing hoof wave. She then prods a hoof at Scoot's chest. “You said you wanted to have fun, and here I am trying to help you with that, yet you’re still hesitant.” “Because I am terrified that you’re going to give me Poison Joke or something!” “Oh come on, I’m not Discord; I wouldn’t do that to you! And this is not going to change you in any way, shape, or form; physically, at least.” Yet another red flag. “You say that like I’m prone to not enjoy this.” “Ok then, do you really want to spend the rest of your life like this?” Sweetie extended her arms out towards Scootaloo, emphatic of the latter’s insecurities and crippling disorders. “You wanted to do something worthwhile, something to make memories from, and this is what I am trying to do; I know you will enjoy it, and I know you will get something profoundly valuable out of this. You’ve been really down in the ditch when it comes to actually having fun, but this I know you will like. So I’m going to ask you one more time: Do you trust me?” Scootaloo was about voice what would have been her obvious answer, but once more found the words dying on her tongue. She found herself idly staring at Sweetie Belle’s features; the Jade irises pierced through her psyche, tempting her to follow into whatever it is she beckoned Scootaloo to come. Like a Siren's call. She was a little lost in those eyes for a while, as her brain wrapped all the different outcomes and possibilities of her request in a stuffed package and taped it shut in her mind. Said brain was also screaming in tandem with a sort of gut feeling, deep in what felt like her heart but she wasn’t quite sure. It made her queasy, and a little weak in the legs. But the smile on Sweetie's face spoke otherwise. It was an immensely warm and comforting smile; one that would make Celestia herself blush at the cheeks, feeling a flush of heat on her own as well. It spoke volumes to the hyperactive mind that was Scootaloo’s. It told her, despite her gross indifference to the evening thus far, she really did care for Scootaloo’s well-being. And she wanted to help her. It was that last iota of reassurance that pushed Scootaloo over the edge. To dare to try for once, In what felt like a very long time. “Please don't make me regret this,” Scootaloo asked for nopony in particular with closed eyes, shaking her head. “You will regret it even more for the rest of your life if you don’t take a chance here. Don't you want to be happy?” That question stuck to Scootaloo. It's not like the question was convoluted enough to have the answer hidden from her; in fact, the answer was very obvious. Of course, she wanted to be happy, who wouldn’t? And yet, as paradoxical as it sounds, her brain refused to see the logic behind that request. The ambivalence of her expression was tempered by frustration and anxiety, cementing her brain to the idea that there was a catch behind her request, a cost to that happiness -- there can be no doubt about that. But what would it cost? At the present moment, she couldn’t answer that. It seemed out of her mental reach. Yet so prominently close at the same time, staring into her face in the form of one of her best friends. It was right there, just waiting to be taken. All she had to do was say 'yes.' In a rare, fleeting moment, Scootaloo had found her long-lost confidence. “Sigh -- Sure, hit me, what is it?” Whampf! “OW! Wh- What was that for?!” Scootaloo yelped, clutching her pained whither with a wince. “What? You said ‘hit me’ and I did.” Sweetie snorts. Whampf! "Ow. Okay, sorry." Sweetie apologized with a wince of her own, rubbing her foreleg. “You’re a jackass. You know that?” Scootaloo snarled. “Hey now, I think Cranky Doodle would take offense if he heard you call me that.” "Whatever! Just shut up and tell me what it is that I'm going to do before I change my mind!“ Sweetie Belle stared at her with a faux-serious face, as she struggles not to smirk. "Well, see, now that is a contradicting order. You say 'shut up,' then you say 'Tell me-'" "Sweetie Belle, I swear to Luna-" "Okay, okay; Sorry. Just trying to get you psyched up. Get you in the mood, you know? I want this night to go well for you." "... Maybe don't hit me then." She bitterly spoke, still rubbing her lightly bruised whither with a hoof "Are you ready for the best night you'll remember for a long time?” Sweetie declares with a dramatic grandeur that her sister would be proud of. “No, not really,” Scootaloo answered with atonal honesty, "I feel I like I'm in for a long night." “Don’t worry, I’ll be here for you every step of the way. But I feel like we're going to have fun!" Scootaloo didn't feel so sure about that. "Besides! What's the worse that can happen?" Oh, great! Another red flag! How many is that now?!