//------------------------------// // Story 4: More of the Changeling Inquisition // Story: Mountie Python's Flying Circus // by Locomotion //------------------------------// Over on the other side of Ponyville, and completely related to the previous sketch (by no means whatsoever!), Hornette the changeling was cuddling and kissing with her unicorn coltfriend in the living room. World Comedy Day just so happened to be a couple of days before Locomotion's birthday, and he had been given additional time off work while his Motive Power Superintendent organised a surprise party for him. Hornette knew about it herself, of course, but she hadn't had the heart to reveal the details to her stallion. “Aw, Hornette,” murmured Locomotion, pulling back for what felt like the hundredth time, “how I love spending time with you.” “Me too,” sighed Hornette dreamily as she affectionately rubbed noses with him. “Anything special you want to do today, Loco?” The red stallion chuckled. “What could be more special than being with my favourite changeling?” he quipped. “Yeah...granted,” agreed Hornette with a wry smile. “I meant more along the lines of, say, lunch at the Clover Café, or a trip to the cinema. Or maybe a picnic up on your favourite hill?” “My thinking spot?” “Yes, that.” “Well, I...yeah, that's a possibility. But now you come to mention it, I wouldn't mind a spot of lunch at the Golden Dragon,” decided Locomotion thoughtfully. “They do a really nice buffet, don't forget.” “Yes, I still can't forget the first time you took me there. Oh, it was so wonderful, all that low lighting, all those beautiful Chineighse lanterns, the food...” “And all the love you could consume into the bargain,” put in Locomotion, earning a hearty giggle from the young changeling. “There's more to being a changeling than posing as other creatures and feasting on their love,” she retorted playfully. “I thought you were the one who taught me as much when I first came here – or am I mistaken?” “Nah, of course not!” “For all I know, you could just be a jealous changeling colt who's taken Loco hostage and tried to win me over!” Despite her best efforts to put on an accusatory tone, the cheeky grin on Hornette's face spoiled the effect with ease. “Oh yeah? Well, what does your Empathy Touch tell you, eh? Is this really another changeling sitting next to you? Because I don't remember ever being one – dearest honeybee!” retorted Locomotion smugly. “I...well, uh...” Hornette stumbled over her words, trying to come up with a smart counterargument. “Ugh, you got me, Loco!” she conceded at last. “You know me far too well to be an imposter.” “And only too glad of it,” put in her coltfriend, softening his tone again. “I never realised what I was missing from my life until I met you.” “Nor I you, tender heart,” agreed Hornette, planting yet another smooch on his lips. “Even your love of trains and railways...I can never understand how so few of your friends actively share it with you.” Locomotion shrugged. “Can't win 'em all, I suppose. Anyway, they do tolerate it at the very least; and let's face it, even if only my marefriend shares my passion for railways, that's more than enough for me. I mean, who else can say their better half is more than willing to learn about how a steam engine works? Or help a guy build a model railway in a shed in his back garden?” “Hmm...good point. I mean, I'd readily ask, but I doubt most railway enthusiasts would expect a changeling inquisition.” Hornette meant this in jest, of course; but neither she nor Locomotion expected three changeling stallions to burst into the room, let alone the jarring chord that punctuated their sudden arrival. “Cinders and ashes!!” shrieked Locomotion above the sound of the chord, as he and Hornette sprang apart in alarm. They looked up just in time for the tallest of the three changelings to utter those five ominous words; “Nopony expects the Changeling Inquisition!” “The what?! But...but I was joking!” squeaked Hornette, still in a state of shock. “And nopony jokes about the Changeling Inquisition either!” sneered the tall one. “Now, Locomotion and Hornette...” “How did you know...?” Locomotion broke off as he suddenly and very awkwardly remembered how he and Hornette had helped overthrow Chrysalis and bring Thorax to power. Of course the other changelings would know them after that event, he thought sheepishly. “...you're coming with us!” The leader frowned as if a thought had only just occurred to him. “Do you have a suitable dungeon or oubliette we could use?” “Well...there's our basement, but...” “Right! Cardinal Syn, Cardinal Puff Puff Puff...” Hornette and Locomotion looked at each other, bemused by the ridiculous names. The second one in particular sounded more like a drinking game than a genuine cardinal. “...take these infidels to the basement!” “What is all this?” wondered Hornette as Syn grabbed her in his magic. Truth be told, she was beginning to feel a little afraid. That was when a look of sudden realisation crossed Locomotion's face. “This must be something to do with that bit of creative writing High Score did earlier this year!” he remarked. “What was it?” “Something about a trio of changeling terrorists from an alternate timeline.” Subtitles rolled in front of them as Locomotion recounted what his gamer friend had written; In the early years of the New Age of the Changelings, to combat the non-existent threat of rebellion from supporters and sympathisers of Queen Chrysalis the Ruthless and Murderous Pretender, King Thorax of Metamorphia gave Cardinal Butterfly leave to move without let or hindrance throughout the world in a reign of violence, terror and torture that makes a smashing parody. This was the Changeling Inquisition! “You are well informed, Locomotion,” snapped the leader, whom Hornette guessed must be Cardinal Butterfly, “but your knowledge of the Changeling Inquisition will not save you now!” He and the other two inquisitors dragged the two teenagers into the basement, cackling all the while, and placed them with their backs to the wall on the far side. There they shackled them in place with colourful paper chains, with one end of each chain being held to the wall with sticky tape. “Now, Locomotion,” he continued, “you are accused of lust, greed and heresy against His Gracious Majesty, King Thorax of Metamorphia, on three counts – heresy by thought, heresy by word, heresy by deed and heresy by action...four counts!” he quickly corrected himself. “Heresy? Against Thorax?” Hornette, forgetting to be scared, looked at the three cardinals as if they had just declared Princess Celestia a certified lunatic. “But...Loco and I are very close friends of his! Why should he...” “And you, Hornette, are accused of treason against your king and kind, in hogging all the love for yourself, refusing to share said love with other changelings and generally behaving as if you came from another planet!” Cardinal Butterfly leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing. “Do you confess?” If Locomotion had been afraid himself, that fear had all but worn off by now, and he could only stare in mildly puzzled amusement at the three zealots. “What the flabberwocky kind of accusation is that?!” he spluttered, trying not to laugh. “Look, I don't pretend to understand what this is all about, Cardinal, but somehow I'm not sure you do either!” “HA! Then we shall make you understand!” Butterfly turned to the changeling in the stovepipe hat. “Cardinal Puff Puff Puff – fetch...THE CUSIONS!” Cushions?! Okay, now I know these guys are out of their minds, thought Locomotion with a smirk, even as the horrific chord rang out all around them – though where from, he couldn't comprehend. Neither could Hornette, who only seemed all the more bewildered by what was going on. “Here they are, lord,” declared Puff Puff Puff, pulling two cushions out of nowhere. “But...what's the good of using cushions?” wondered Hornette under her breath. “Unless they mean to start a pillow fight...” “Now, infidels, you have one last chance,” stated Butterfly. “Confess to the heinous sins of lust, greed, heresy and treason; reaffirm your allegiance to King Thorax and the Metamorphian Government – two last chances – and you shall be free – three last chances! You have three last chances.” “Look, you're wasting your time, buster,” retorted Locomotion, still smirking. “We're subjects of Princess Celestia, not King Thorax; and anyway, it's not like he'd accuse us of treason and heresy.” “RIGHT! IF THAT'S THE WAY YOU WANT IT!!!” Butterfly turned back to his subordinates, each wielding a cushion over their victims. “Cardinals,” he ordered, “poke them with the soft cushions!!” A brief round of Diabolical Laughter ensued, and the two other changelings began prodding the cushions into their prisoners' barrels as Butterfly screamed at them again and again, “CONFESS! CONFESS! CONFESS!” But no matter how much they poked... “It doesn't seem to be hurting them, lord,” Puff Puff Puff spoke up, ceasing in his poking. “Have you got all the stuffing up one end?” “Yes, lord.” “Well, of course it won't hurt us, you twits!” taunted Locomotion, who could now think of nothing better than to wind these changeling inquisitors up. “We ponies may be soft, but it takes more than cushions to harm us, you know.” “Does it indeed?” sneered Butterfly, taking Syn's cushion and examining it carefully. Realising how right Locomotion was, he threw it to one side in disappointment, Puff Puff Puff doing the same. “They're made of harder stuff; we'll have to break out the big guns,” he decided. “Cardinal Syn – fetch...the Comfy Chair!” The sound of the terrifying chord rang out again as Syn's face took on a look of sheer, untold horror. “The Comfy Chair?!?!” he gasped. “Yes.” Syn dashed off upstairs with fear apparent in his eyes; but Hornette was even more baffled, and Locomotion could barely hold back his laughter, even as Butterfly addressed them once again. “So – you think you are strong, because you can survive the soft cushions?! Well, we shall see!” “It's a rare creature who can't survive soft cushions,” quipped Locomotion flippantly. “And what do you plan to do? Sit us down and drape a few cosy blankets over us?” “I'm warning you, Locomotion,” growled Butterfly, “you keep mocking us, and we shall put you in the bubble bath – WITH THE RUBBER DUCK!!” He turned to Puff Puff Puff as Syn brought down Steamer's favourite armchair from the living room. “Cardinal Puff Puff Puff – put them in the Comfy Chair!” Both the other changelings tore the chains off of Locomotion and Hornette's fetlocks (literally!) and pushed them into the armchair. It was a bit of a tight squeeze for the two teenagers, but they were in too much of a state of bemusement to mind – indeed, they quickly made themselves as comfortable as if they were on an ordinary love-seat. “Now,” thundered Butterfly, “you will stay in the Comfy Chair until lunchtime, with only a cup of coffee at 11!” “Sounds alright to me,” decided Hornette, “so long as I've got my Loco.” “I'd rather do without the coffee, thanks,” grumbled Locomotion. “Can't stand the smell; and I doubt the taste will be any better.” “Alright – apple juice then!” Seeing that this “torture” method didn't seem to be working on the young couple, Butterfly looked across to Puff Puff Puff. “Is that really all there is?” “Yes, lord.” “Hmm – I see,” murmured Butterfly thoughtfully. “I suppose we make it a lot worse by shouting at them.” Unbeknownst to the three changelings, Locomotion gave Hornette a sly wink. He was already beginning to formulate a little tactic of his own. “Confess, infidels.” Butterfly started off calm and quiet at first, but gradually raised his voice further and further, trying to intimidate the two insolent teenagers in front of him. “Confess! CONFESS! CONFESS! CONFESS!!!” This worked only too well – but on completely the wrong creature. The louder Butterfly became, the more Puff Puff Puff began to bow under the strain, until at last he threw himself onto the floor and wailed out loud, “I CONFESS!!!” “NOT YOU!!” screamed Butterfly, exasperated. “ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT!!!” burst out Locomotion, pretending to lose his temper. “YOU WANT YOUR BLEEDING CONFESSION, YOU'RE GETTING IT!!” He turned to Hornette, gingerly wrapping his arms around her. “You know, honeybee, I never did tell you how much you really mean to me.” “You told...” began Hornette; but suddenly caught onto Locomotion's ploy, and quickly stopped herself. “Oh...you don't mean...do you?” “Ever since I first found you, all alone and abandoned in the Everfree Forest...how it pained my heart to see a creature like you so horribly hurt, and so terrified as well. I didn't even realise it back then, but now...” Locomotion leaned in closer until he and Hornette were sharing breath. “You captured my heart, Hornette; and without even having to seduce me like other changelings do.” “You too, Loco,” whispered Hornette, playing along in a breathy, husky tone. “From the day you saved me from those timberwolves, I'd always felt something for you – but I never truly imagined that it could be anything so strong as this. Now I know...” Of course, the two teenagers were really bluffing. This was by no means the first time they had shown such strong feelings for each other; but the inquisitors didn't know that. They all three watched in baffled curiosity to see where this would go. “I love you, Hornette,” murmured Locomotion, and closed the gap between them with a deep moan. Hornette purred as she kissed him back, but secretly kept one eye open a fraction to see what he was about to do. In that moment, a whole montage of suggestive images flashed before the inquisitors' eyes – a factory chimney collapsing in reverse, a space rocket blasting off, an express train plunging into a tunnel, a cow being milked, waves crashing against cliffs, fireworks exploding... It was all too much for the three changelings. All thoughts of torture and interrogation vanished from their minds, and they ran out of the basement, through the front door and on towards the Buckskin Mountains, screaming in anguish and shouting for somepony to make it stop! Only when he was sure they were well out of sight did Locomotion decide to break the act. Pulling away and gasping for breath, he whispered to Hornette, “Have they gone?” Mildly taken aback by the change in Locomotion's tone, Hornette opened her eyes fully, but found no-one in the basement but herself and her beau. “It worked!” she exclaimed in relief and amazement. “Loco, you clever steed! How in Equestria do you do it?” “Well...let's just say it's a good thing Uncle Steamer still has my granddad's old movie projector down here.” Locomotion chuckled and cocked his head towards the device in question. During their make-out session, he had discretely turned it on with his magic – it was this that had fooled the Changeling Inquisition into thinking things were getting steamy between him and Hornette. “Of course,” he remarked to the world in general, “I don't think I need to emphasise that nothing of the sort ever really happened.” “Nah, better to wait until we're married,” agreed Hornette. Deep down, she couldn't help wishing Locomotion would go ahead and pop the question someday, but didn't wish to rush him into it. “After all that, I think I could do with a nice cupcake at Sugarcube Corner. How about you, Loco?” “I'll say – but we'd better take that armchair back upstairs,” added Locomotion. “Uncle Steamer wouldn't like it if he found it'd been snatched out of his living room.” He picked up the armchair in his magic and, grunting with exertion, hefted it out of the basement and back to its rightful place. “Probably no point in telling him about this, though,” he finished thoughtfully. “I doubt he'd believe such a wild story as that.” “Yeah, it is pretty weird. Three confused changelings, trying to make us own up to such silly charges with armchairs and cushions? It beggars belief,” observed Hornette. “And to think they thought all that nonsense would be enough to make us confess!” scoffed Locomotion as he opened the front door. “Honestly, I...” “I confess!” Both pony and changeling stopped, looking around like a pair of startled rabbits. “Who was that?!” asked Hornette, a little more abruptly than she intended. Right outside their front gate stood a unicorn stallion in an outfit that resembled a police uniform. He had to be some kind of street performer, because instead of looking around for criminals, he just stood in place, uttering the words, “I confess!” every few seconds. Every time he did so, a sign hovered above him bearing the words “BE SEATED”, accompanied by the sound of a buzzer. He then attempted to sit down on a chair conveniently placed behind him – only for a disembodied arm to reach out and pull the chair away at the last second, causing him to fall flat on his back as the first few bars of a regal tune played out. Finally, he would stand up again, the arm would put the chair back, and the cycle would repeat. Both teenagers watched in disbelief until, after the seventh repetition, Locomotion grew disenchanted. As the musical excerpt played out once more, he rolled his eyes and shook his head; and just as it finished, he muttered resignedly to himself; “I give up.”