Captain Spike sat relaxed on Cutler’s Point. The dread pirate took a deep breath, inhaling the strong salt air of the sea. He gazed out over the gleaming sapphire of the waves as they rhythmically lapped against the sparkling white sands of the shore. Closing his eyes for a just a moment, he listened to the gentle sound of water running over edge of the beach. The dragon sighed. It was good to be the pirate king.
“Captain?…”
A sweet, melodic voice washed over the captain’s ears. The dragon looked over to his right. His eyes fell upon the form of a beautiful mare sitting beside him. The calm breeze ran through her brilliant indigo mane, making it waver across her flawless, alabaster face. Her eyes were the same marvelous blue of the sea, and they gazed into the young dragon’s very soul.
“Yes, Madame Rarity?” crooned the chivalrous pirate. The mare batted her eyes at him, inching herself closer.
“I just wanted to thank you again for saving me from Admiral Blueblood,” she said, “I would have been at that scoundrel’s mercy had it not been for you…” Her eggshell white face reddened a little, and for a moment she averted her gaze.
“It was nothing, my dear,” replied the dragon as he gently placed his hand over her hoof, “I would give my life to keep you safe.” He felt the unicorn take his claw in her grasp.
“I’ve…never met anyone so kind,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. She slowly moved forward, until she was only inches away from the pirate’s fetching face. Spike gave a boyish smirk as she lifted a hoof to his cheek.
“What a handsome…mustache,” she murmured, her mouth drawn in a stunning smile.
“Thank you,” breathed Spike, “I hope it would not be too bold of me to say that you have the most beautiful mane I’ve ever seen...” They both grew quiet, just staring into one another’s eyes. The cool breeze whispered in the background, as if speaking to the gentle roar of the ocean. At last, Madame Rarity’s voice broke the silence.
“Spike?”
“Yes, my darling?” replied the pirate.
“Spike?”
“Um…yes?”
The lovely mare suddenly grabbed onto his shoulders with a surprising vise-like grip and began shaking him back and forth. The dragon flailed his arms in surprise and confusion.
“Spike! Spike!” called Madame Rarity, unceremoniously slapping the pirate king across the face, “Spike, wake up! SPPIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIKKKE~”
******
Spike’s eyes suddenly snapped open to see a mare’s frowning face right in front of his own. It took a moment for his mind to register that it wasn’t the divine continence of Madame Rarity, but rather the comparatively mundane visage of Twilight Sparkle. The unicorn’s mouth was drawn in a worried frown, and there was a dangerously anxious look in her eyes. Spike recognized that look, and figured that he about fifty-eight seconds to intervene before the mare descended into total panic.
“Uh…Twilight?”
“Tarpan’s gone!” cried the unicorn as she gave Spike another shake, “Spike, he’s left the library!” Something clattered out of the dragon’s basket, landing at Twilight’s hooves. The mare’s look of desperation vanished as she glanced down, her eyes happening upon a paperback book. They narrowed suspiciously as she read the title aloud.
“…The Pirate King of Cutler’s Point?” She looked from the dog-eared novel to the dragon, who was suddenly not making eye contact. “Spike…”
“It’s not mine!” blurted the reptile.
“I know,” huffed Twilight as she snatched up the book in question, “That’s because it’s mine.” Spike’s eyes widened for a moment.
“…Really? Huh. Never woulda figured you liked romances…” His eyes grew even wider. “I mean, not that I’ve read it, it’s just I saw the cover and thought--”
“Just forget it,” sighed Twilight, “Come on, we’ve got to find Tarpan!” Spike’s body was suddenly enveloped in a pink aura as he was levitated onto the mare’s back. He barely had time to hold on before the unicorn bolted out of the bedroom.
“But what about breakfast?” cried the dragon as they descended down the stairwell.
******
“And in their gratitude, the entire tribe offered Trixie access to their most prized possessions. Of course, Trixie, being as noble and generous as she is, politely declined their offer.” Trixie glanced down again at the wild-stallion, who was still diligently looking up at her as she continued to work with the hopelessly tangled mess of rope. The azure mare had taken it upon herself to regale him with a bit of her history as undoing the knots was taking longer than she had hoped. Thankfully, after half an hour or so, her efforts were finally paying off. Although she had many more stories of her magnificence she could have shared with the mud-bound pony, Trixie was grateful that she was nearly finished.
******
Tarpan continued to listen to the pony as she talked, patiently waiting for her to rescue him. Though she was engaged in a time-consuming struggle with the cord, Tarpan could tell that she really was trying her hardest and appreciated her effort. He was also thankful that she, a mare who could apparently vanquish the most terrible of dangers, had stopped to help him when his plight seemed a mere inconvenience in comparison to her typical exploits. She spoke of defeating creatures that vaguely sounded like those he had seen before, one in particular sounding like a Star-Beast.
The Neighanderthal wondered if such a champion might have heard of the strange bug-pony that had tried forcing its way into a pony-dwelling last night. If she had, Tarpan would need to bring her back to Ponyville to help him dispose of it. No doubt it had snuck back into the town after leaving him trapped, and if it could change its shape…Well, the stallion hoped he could find its scent again.
His thoughts were suddenly interrupted when a worn rope flopped down in the mud only inches away from his face. Tarpan’s normally somber gray eyes lit up with delight as he looked up to see the brilliant azure face of his rescuer.
“Grab on, wild-stallion!” she cried, “The Great and Powerful Trixie will have you out in a moment!” Tarpan eagerly locked his jaws around the cord, grasping it in his hooves for good measure.
******
Trixie grinned as the wild-stallion grabbed the rope. Her end of the cord glowed a bright magenta as she took a telekinetic hold of it. Having had trouble with mud before, Trixie knew that the hardest part would be getting the stallion free from the mud, which acted like a suction cup. However, such a task would be easy for a pony as strong and powerful as herself. The magician prepared to charge forward, which she figured would provide the needed force to pull the wild-stallion from his earthy prison.
Seconds later her plan became a reality. Trixie was rushing forward, the rope trailing behind her. She braced herself for the moment the rope would go taut, strengthening her grip of the cord. A triumphant smirk spread across her muzzle as she ran. A little hard work was all that stood between her and a new and improved show.
However, the work would turn out to be harder than she thought, as the very next second the rope went tight. Trixie let out a yelp as her hooves flew out from underneath her, sending her flat on her back.
******
It was early morning, and as per usual Cherrie Tomato was the first one setting up shop in the market. The mare carefully unloaded her goods onto the wooden counter, placing them in evenly spaced rows, just as she did every morning. The day ran as clockwork to her, and she knew that she’d be sold out by noon. Then she’d go home, tend to her plants, get her tomatoes ready for tomorrow morning, and end the day with a long, hot, relaxing bath.
A midnight-blue figure suddenly caught her eye as she was stocking her stand. Cherrie paused in her work to see a stallion stumble out from around the corner. The pale-coated mare would have ordinarily continued, as she saw this pony every day. Noteworthy the street musician always passed through the market on his way to his corner, but this morning something seemed a bit…different about him. He looked exhausted; his mouth was in a pained grimace, and he winced every time a hoof touched the ground. Cherrie raised an eyebrow. Yesterday the same pony had been dancing on top of tables at the Merry Weather Café.
The tomato vendor sighed, and returned to her work. She didn’t really care why Noteworthy was suddenly so tired. It wasn’t any of her business. But she hoped that whatever it was, it might keep him from playing today. She wasn’t a big fan of his music. She wasn’t a big fan of his upbeat attitude, either. Cherrie didn’t like to think of herself as an old grouch, but the carefree way that he lived his life got on her nerves. He frivolously attended parties almost every night, spending his meek earnings left and right, and never seemed to have any problems.
Cherrie’s nose wrinkled as she saw something that reminded her all too well of her own problems. A big, bandy-legged, brown and gray insect wiggled its antennae at her from atop one of her prized tomatoes. The mare narrowed her eyes and gritted her teeth. Stinkbugs. Only one of the many pests that plagued her garden. And where one appeared, more were sure to follow. In one swift motion, she swept it off the tomato and squashed it on the counter.
Cherrie didn’t notice that the exact moment her hoof crushed the insect’s exoskeleton, Noteworthy stopped dead in his tracks. His ears perked up and swiveled in her direction. He glanced over at her with a blank face before starting forward again.
Just as the tomato vendor wiped the stinkbug’s remains from the countertop, another crawled out from her display of red produce. Grunting in disgust, Cherrie disposed of it in the same fashion.
Noteworthy froze once more, his head painfully swiveling on his neck to look at the vendor. His golden eyes blazed fiercely at her as he turned, his broken gait beginning again as he headed toward her.
Cherrie looked up as she heard the sound of uneven hoof-steps approaching. A confused frown formed on her face. It was Noteworthy. He glared at her with an uncharacteristically stern expression as he neared. He finally came to a stop right in front of her counter.
“Can I help you?” murmured Cherrie as she ran a skeptical gaze over the stallion. His coat seemed a little duller than usual, and he had large, drooping bags under his eyes.
“Don’t do that…”
Cherrie raised an eyebrow.
“Uh…do what?”
Noteworthy’s powerful stare unlocked with her own and looked down at the mangled stinkbug carcass near her hoof. Cherrie glanced down at it for a moment before rolling her eyes.
“Oh,” she muttered, “The bug.” Noteworthy nodded. Cherrie narrowed her eyes in an accusing glare.
“Look, Mister,” she sighed, “What I do is none of your business. So sorry for trying to keep bugs outta my goods. If you wanna eat pest-ridden vegetables, go somewhere else, because you’re not gonna find ’em here.” Noteworthy coolly leered at the mare, not looking away as he reached over and snatched a tomato from her stand.
“Hey, what do you think you’re do-” Cherrie was cut short by the cold, calm voice of the stallion. There was something in his voice she had never heard before. Something that sounded terribly threatening.
“You know, I’m not really one for tomatoes,” he said as he tossed the tomato and caught it in his hoof, “But I do think they’re good for something.” Cherrie’s mouth remained open, but she found herself speechless as Noteworthy bore into her with a frightening stare. She only looked away when he set the tomato in front of her.
“I find they’re effective when you want to demonstrate what could happen to a miserable, unsuspecting little tomato vendor if, say a giant hoof came out of the blue and ended her existence.”
In the next instant he slammed his hoof down onto the tomato, splattering its red innards all over Cherrie.
“Of course,” he continued as he shook the red mess from his fetlock, “It’s unlikely that a giant hoof would just come out of nowhere. But I mean, you could get the same result if a large fruit cart tipped over on said tomato vendor, or maybe something like a…piano.” Cherrie gulped, and nervously followed Noteworthy’s gaze as he looked up at the sky. “Lotsa klutzy pegasai up there, I imagine.” With that, the stallion turned away from the stand, glancing back at her one last time.
“By the way,” he said with an insidiously friendly smile, “A tomato is a fruit, not a vegetable.”
******
After about five attempts at loosening the wild-stallion from the mud, Trixie’s patience was beginning to wear thin. The bedraggled mare let out a sigh through her gritted teeth as she limped back to the edge of the hole for yet another try. She forced her mouth into a hopeful smile as she caught sight of the wild-stallion. Much to her dismay, he was displaying an uncertain frown his mud-covered muzzle.
“Alright, this time Trixie will get you out for sure!” she called, her voice overly enthusiastic. The magician’s near-manic grin faded as she turned away, becoming something that resembled the wild-stallion’s doubtful expression. She couldn’t understand it. Despite her strength, which often claimed was great as her magical abilities, the pony refused to budge. She’d pulled her cart free from the mud at least a dozen times last April, and that was certainly heavier than a single stallion.
Trixie shook her head for a moment, as if trying to loosen the creeping doubts from her mind. She could do this. She was the Great and Powerful Trixie. She wasn’t going to let something as trivial as physics or gravity stand in her way of rescuing the wild-stallion. The magician’s magenta eyes blazed with determination as they looked ahead. Her horn glowered as it levitated the rope into her mouth; locking her jaws onto it like a vice. The mare scraped her hoof in the dirt before her, preparing for a pull to end all pulls. By her combined magic and natural strength, she was going to get the stallion free.
Trixie shot forward like a bullet. She didn’t even slow down when the rope went taut and the wild-stallion was yanked out of the mud. Nor did she pause once he was dragged out of the pit. She was going to stop when she spotted the tree-trunk that seemed to spring up out of nowhere, but by then it was too late.
KA-THUNK!
******
Tarpan let out a tired sigh of relief as he felt grass instead of mud against his body. He was finally free. He could feel the warmth of the rising sun against his back. It felt infinitely better than the damp, cold confines of the pit. The Neighanderthal slowly stood up and shook himself, sending bits of earth and muck from his body. His barrel chest rose and fell as he took a deep breath and looked around for his savior, a gracious smile on his face.
The smile faltered as he spotted the figure of an azure mare a short distance away. From what he could see, she appeared to be in some kind of distress, as she was desperately kicking and pulling at a tree trunk.
“Hold on, wild-stallion!” she cried in-between frustrated grunts, “The Great and Powerful Trixie will be with you momentarily!” Curious and somewhat concerned as to why the mare was assaulting the tree, the Neighanderthal took several heavy-hoofed steps over to her side. The answer presented itself immediately--The mare’s horn was stuck fast in the tree trunk.
The blue pony’s strained grimace morphed into a sheepish grin as she noticed the stallion beside her, her cheeks turning a light pink.
“Ah…If you would please give Trixie a minute, she will--” Her words were cut short as Tarpan reached over and wrapped his foreleg around her shoulders. The stallion leaned backward, resulting in a loud pop as the mare’s horn was drawn from the tree. She stumbled back as he let go, giving her head a little shake before turning to him, looking even more sheepish than before.
“Um…Thank you, wild-stallion,” she said. Tarpan smiled and gave her a nod, gesturing over to the mud pit.
“Thankkh yew vurri mutch,” he replied, hoping the mare would understand his attempt at her language. She apparently did, as the sheepishness melted away and was replaced with an air of high respectability.
“You’re most welcome,” said the mare as she straightened her posture, donning a pleased little smile as she did so, “The Great and Powerful Trixie is glad that she could offer her services.” Her smile thinned out as her face went blank. “Did…did you just speak?”
Tarpan nodded.
“Oh…Well, that’s certainly interesting, a wild-stallion that can talk…” The Neighanderthal reached out and pointed with a hoof towards the edge of the forest.
“Kohm,” he cried, “Therr is bug-pony in Ponyville! Must Heghlp!” The mare’s eyes widened in confusion. Tarpan understood this, as he was not the best at pronouncing her words, nor did he actually know the name they used for the bug-pony.
“A what in where?” she asked as she raised an eyebrow. Tarpan nervously clenched his teeth for a moment, trying to think of a way to explain the problem.
“Big-blahck bug-pony,” he said, gesturing a foreleg in front of his mouth, “Long teeth, shighny wingks!” It was evident from the confused look on the mare’s face that his description wasn’t really helping. The relic gave another anxious glance over at the town in the distance.
“Foll-oguh me!” he said at last, turning and bolting out of the forest. The mare’s eyes widened.
“Wait!” she cried as she started after him, “Where are you going? Come back here! We don’t have time for this, Trixie needs to consult a publicist!”