Night had fallen. As Flim and Flam pushed Spike's rolling cage across a large clearing surrounded on all sides by trees, he could make out several dimly lit objects around a pair of campfires, which were several yards apart from one another.
"What's that?" Spike asked, gripping the bars and squinting at the approaching fire.
"Where we've made camp, of course!" Flam said.
"One fire marks where we've pitched our tents and stored our supplies, and the other will be keeping you and your fellow assets warm through the night!" Flim explained.
"Fantastic." Spike sighed, seating himself for what little remained of his bumpy ride, his chin supported by his elbows and hands.
"Look lively, everypony!" Flam declared. "Your newest co-star has arrived! Meet... uh... Dragon!"
"My name's Spike," Dragon said flatly, rolling his eyes.
"Spike?!" two familiar voices shouted in unison. Spike's jaw dropped as he caught sight of the faces of his fellow captives. The two who had spoken his name were, without a doubt, Zecora, a zebra friend of his who lived in the Everfree Forest, and the "Great and Powerful" Trixie, a showpony whose presence had twice wreaked havoc in Ponyville.
"Zecora?! Trixie?!" Spike exclaimed, his eyes darting back and forth between them.
"Um, I'm here too, thanks for noticing," another voice added. Spike's gaze shot over to another cage containing Gilda the Griffon, who had caused some small commotion in Ponyville years earlier.
"Yeah, I remember you," Spike said, unenthused. He looked over at the final cage and was shocked that he hadn't noticed that one first. Contained within it was a large, muscular Minotaur with a silver nose ring and formidable goatee. "Who's this guy?" Spike asked Zecora, turning away from the behemoth and pointing towards him with a thumb.
"'This guy' is Iron Will!" the Minotaur shouted, causing Spike to yelp. "Iron Will does not appreciate you speaking of him as though he isn't here beside you!" He flexed his biceps inward as he said this. Spike noted that all four of them wore collars identical to his.
"The Great and Powerful Trixie has grown weary of hearing you refer to yourself in the third person, Minotaur!" Trixie said as Spike shifted his vision toward her.
"Look who's talking!" Iron Will extended his arms toward Trixie, catching Spike's attention again. "Iron Will pulls it off, unlike somepony!"
"Oh please," Trixie replied, "when you do it, it sounds positively narcissistic. The Great and Powerful Trixie refers to herself in the third person ironically. Hmph!" She snorted, turning her nose up at Iron Will.
"You don't know the meaning of irony!" Iron Will roared, shifting his stance and displaying some impressive footwork in the process.
"I beg your pardon?!" Trixie shouted, bringing a hoof to her mouth and leaning back.
"Irony denotes something that is contrary to what was expected!" Iron Will said, loudly and rapidly. "But for those of us who have never met you before, we have no expectations!" His voice almost seemed to echo as he began punching the air repeatedly.
"And if we have no expectations regarding your manner of speaking, whichever manner of speaking you ultimately utilize is contrary to NOTHING!" Iron Will slammed his fists together as he shouted the final word even more loudly than he had the rest of his tangent, causing everyone to stare at him, wide-eyed.
"A literary lesson, we do not need," Zecora said. "Instead we should focus on getting freed."
"Oh great," Gilda said, rolling her eyes. "The zebra rhymes. 'Cause, y'know, this stuff wasn't already a pain to keep up with."
"Gilda-girl, I take offense," Zecora said, putting her hoof down. "I have no patience for malcontents!"
"Are you truly this dense, Minotaur?!" Trixie said before Gilda could respond to Zecora. "The Great and Powerful Trixie's speech pattern is ironic because one would not expect a pony to refer to herself in the third person to begin with!" Trixie wrapped her hooves around the bars of her own cage and stuck her head out through them to glare at Iron Will.
"What careless ignorance!" Iron Will curled his arms above his head and turned his back to his sparring partner. "If we considered it ironic every time somepony did or said something unique because we didn't think to expect it beforehand, every unique action would then become ironic, thus cheapening the word itself!"
"For the love of—" Gilda smacked her forehead. "Who cares?!"
"Iron Will cares!" Iron Will grabbed the bars of his cage with such force that the cart tilted sideways for a moment. Twin streams of steam shot from his nostrils. "Iron Will weeps for future generations when today's adults dismiss the importance of semantics!" His bottom lip began to quiver.
"Though our situation may be dire, because of your passion, I am inspired," Zecora said, prompting Iron Will to give a very aggressive thumbs-up and flash a sparkling grin.
"Dweebs." Gilda sighed, rolling her eyes.
"What did you call us?!" the other three shouted in unison.
"Have you guys been doing this the entire time you've been here?!" Spike snapped, having grown tired of bouncing his eyes around inside his sockets in an attempt to stay focused on whoever was speaking at any given moment. "We have bigger problems, for pony's sake!"
"Oh, this is just pure gold," Flim said while laughing. This reminded the four captives that he and his brother had been silently observing the altercation the entire time.
"Indeed it is, brother of mine!" Flam said. "This is going into the act for sure!" They turned and walked back to their own campsite before anyone could respond. The five grew silent and lowered their heads.
"So..." Spike sighed, looking back and forth among them. "How'd they manage to get you guys?"
"They approached my hut, gave my door a knock," Zecora began, massaging her forehead. "And clobbered my head with a rock-filled sock."
"A home-made blackjack?" Gilda asked as she winced. "Ouch. Now I'm glad they only nailed me with chloroform while I was helping them change a busted wagon wheel."
"They offered Iron Will five hundred bits to give a self-help seminar on being the figurative bird that escapes its metaphorical cage!" the Minotaur said. "They said that a literal cage would help to drive the point home!" He looked the bars up and down. "Admittedly, Iron Will should have seen this coming."
"What about you, Trixie?" Spike asked, turning to the showpony.
"They promised to make the Great and Powerful Trixie a star!" She sobbed, repeating the final syllable twice, tears streaming down her face. "How could she refuse?!"
"I'm pretty sure they mentioned having a manticore, too," Gilda added. "But I haven't seen it."
"Well, what's done is done," Spike said, standing up. "But if there's one thing I've learned from my best friend, Twilight Sparkle, it's that every problem has a solution. If we put our heads together, I know we can find a way out of this!"
"Righteous words, little sport—you can count on having my full support!" Zecora nodded.
"Yeah, that sounds nice and all," Gilda said, "but these collars around our necks give those vaudeville rejects complete control of us. Good luck finding a way to escape when we can't control our own bodies."
"Trixie just wanted to see her name in lights!" Trixie moaned, sniffling, her head buried in her hooves.
"Can't we just take them off when Flim and Flam aren't looking?" Spike asked.
"Iron Will already tried that," the Minotaur said, shaking his head slowly. "Even if the brothers aren't paying attention, the spell they cast on the collars automatically freezes us in place if we try to remove them."
"Darn." Spike hissed. I've gotta stay calm and collected, like Twilight always says. What would she do next? She wouldn't move on yet, she'd gather as much information as she could. Finishing his thought, he looked up at his companions again. "Okay, so, we can't take the collars off, and they give Flim and Flam complete control over us for as long as they're actively maintaining their magic link. So, let's say we just ran off into the woods and hid from them?"
"While they can't direct our bodies if they cannot see," Zecora said, "they can still compel our voices to scream."
"Right," Spike said, scratching his chin, "so even if we hid, they'd be able to pinpoint our location by making us scream, so that's out, too. Trixie, do you think your magic could disrupt theirs?"
"Trixie wishes," the unicorn replied, having regained her composure. "One powerful burst of unfocused magic would be enough to disrupt their focused control spell for at least a few seconds, but the collars seal away her magical abilities. Trixie would imagine they've done the same to yours."
"Let's assume that's true for now." Spike nodded. "So no hiding, no magic, and no ripping off the collars."
"In other words, no escape," Gilda said, cocking her eyebrow at Spike.
"We can't think like that," Spike replied emphatically. "My friends would never give up in a situation like this, and I won't, either. Give me some time to think of something. If there's a way out of this, I promise you I'll find it."
"Time is something we certainly are not lacking at the moment," Zecora said, bowing her head.
The prisoners slept restlessly through the rest of the night. All of them—except for Spike, who laid on his back the entire night, staring up at the moon through the barred walls of his cage.