“Mom, I’m home,” Scootaloo called, casually kicked the front door shut behind her.
“Hey, honey,” her mom replied from somewhere in the kitchen, “Did you have a good day?”
“Totally!” Scootaloo called back, folding up her scooter and placing it reverently in the corner, “We went and watched Rainbow Dash practice her stunts. It was SO AWESOME.”
“That’s great honey! Did you thank Rainbow Dash for letting you watch?”
“Yes, Mom,” Scootaloo poked her head into the kitchen and let out a frightened yelp, “Mom! Why are you cooking!? Where’s Dad?”
“He’s not getting home until late so Boo is in charge of dinner tonight,” Scootaloo’s mother replied.
“Here let me help,” Scootaloo said dashing into the kitchen, “No Mom! That’s rat poison, and how many times do I have to tell you that you don’t have to add salt to the pot to boil water!”
—-
Outside the average house a pair of fillies watched the increasing drama of Scootaloo trying to keep her mother from poisoning her family. After a few minutes things settled down inside and the pair ducked down from the window they were spying through.
“Why did we follow Scootaloo home again?” Sweetie Belle asked Applebloom.
“I wanted to see where she lived.”
“Why?”
“Well, she never talks about her family or about things happening in her house,” Applebloom explained, “I thought maybe was an orphan, or that maybe she was secretly raised by chickens or somethin’.”
“Applebloom, that’s terrible! Why would anypony think that?”
“I dunno…” Applebloom hemmed, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize to me, you’re going to have to apologize to Scootaloo tomorrow,” Sweetie Belle scolded, “Now let’s hurry back to my sister’s, Applejack was supposed to be there to pick you up like ten minutes ago.”
Applebloom let out a strangled yelp and the pair of fillies dashed off.
—-
Back inside Scootaloo stood on a stool stirring something in a small pot. She sighed and put the spoon down and carefully shifter the pot to a different burner and turned off the active one.
“Buckawk!”
Scootaloo jumped and tumbled off of the stool. She got up and glared at the oversized chicken standing in the kitchen. The chicken stared at the pegasus filly and scratched at the tiles of the floor with one foot.
“Mom!” Scootaloo protested, “You know the rule! I don’t ride my scooter in the house and you don’t wear costumes from work at home! You can use your character names and the third-person but no costumes! We all agreed.”
“Aw, but honey,” the chicken replied, “Boo wanted to rehearse for Boo’s part at work this week.”
“No costumes,” Scootaloo ground out, “Now put that away before somepony sees you and those stupid chicken rumors start circulating again.”