It had all transpired in the dead of night. The wicked Miniblins, sent by their evil leader, Scootaloo the Warlord, had snuck into the castle of the fair Princess Sweetie Belle and stolen her away. Now she was trapped in Scootaloo’s evil fortress, and only the great warrior Applebloom could save the princess. And thus, the young farmpony-turned-hero found herself approaching Scootaloo’s castle. Though the sun shined brightly upon the land, Applebloom knew that its warmth would not reach the cursed stronghold of the wicked warlord.
There! She could see them now.
Scootaloo herself stood on the battlements, flanked by her ever-faithful Miniblin guards. Princess Sweetie Belle stood high up on the left tower, catching sight of her savior. Putting a hoof dramatically to her head, Sweetie Belle wailed, “Oh, great hero Applebloom! Save me from the clutches of this heartless tyrant!”
Scootaloo’s eyes fell on her enemy as well, and she cracked a menacing grin. “Ah, if it isn’t the mighty warrior Applebloom! Come to save the Princess, did you? Well, I’m afraid that all you’ll meet today is your doom! Get her, my faithful minions!”
The Miniblin entourage cackled in sinister glee as they rattled their pitchforks and began climbing down the castle wall towards the ground. “Unleash Tartarus if ya want!” Applebloom bravely shouted back. “But Ah’ll never stop fightin’ ‘til Ah’ve rescued the princess and run ya through with mah blade ‘a justice!”
Scootaloo laughed coldly. “We’ll see about that!”
The first of the Miniblins soon approached her, cackling evilly as it leveled its trident at her. Applebloom grinned and got out her sword and shield. “Ya want summa this?” she challenged.
“Nyeh na!” the Miniblin answered, thrusting.
Applebloom parried with her sword and moved in, beaning it on the head with her blade and caving in its skull. The monster dropped like a sack of potatoes as two more approached. Emboldened by her first kill, Applebloom charged her opponents, swinging left and right. Though her foes were many, their skill was poor, and she was driven by a righteous cause. None could hope to stand against the great warrior. The Miniblins cried out in despair as they were cut down one by one, hopeless against their more-experienced enemy.
The Warlord Scootaloo sternly looked on as her minions fell to her enemy’s sword. How useless they all were. She would not fall as they did. None could dare hope to slay the greatest of all warlords! Soon Applebloom was surrounded by the lifeless bodies of her enemies, glancing up at Scootaloo with a grim “I’m-coming-for-you” smirk. Scootaloo scoffed. “So, you managed to beat my minions. Good job, I guess. But you’re wrong if you think you can defeat me!”
Applebloom responded by flinging her grappling hook onto the wall and pulling herself up to meet her nemesis. Scootaloo did not bother to push her off; so confident was she in her own impending victory that she didn’t even feel the need to use such an underhoofed tactic. Once Applebloom reached the top and got into battle position, Scootaloo smirked, flourishing her own trusty sword, her legendary blade said to have been responsible for the doom of many a brave warrior before Applebloom. “You little foal! You think you can gut me with your silly little ‘sword of justice’? I’m afraid you got it the other way ‘round, chump! I’ll be the one to run you through! Prepare to die, Applebloom!”
“Have at ya!” Applebloom cried, raising her sword.
Hero and villain clashed, Princess Sweetie Belle looking on with bated breath. Both opponents were greatly skilled, showing off every feat of swordplay they knew in an effort to gain an advantage. After a few minutes of sword-fighting, they locked blades and pushed against each other. “Ngh…ya won’t win, Scootaloo,” Applebloom vowed through her exertion. “Ah’ll make sure of it!”
Scootaloo smirked fiendishly. “That’s what you think,” she replied.
Without warning, Scootaloo spread her wings and took to the air, causing Applebloom to nearly lose her balance. She had barely managed to avoid tumbling off the edge of the battlements when Scootaloo dove in for the kill. Defending herself, Applebloom raised her shield. Though the shield absorbed Scootaloo’s blow, saving the young warrior from a premature demise, the force of it knocked the shield out of her hoof. Applebloom’s eyes widened as Scootaloo laughed. “It’s just a matter of time, Applebloom!” she boasted with a grin. “I’m the greatest warlord of them all! My blade’ll rip through your gut just like it did with every other warrior who tried to rescue the princess before!”
Applebloom gritted her teeth. “Yer wrong!” she declared, throwing all defensive strategy out the window as she pressed her attack, forcing Scootaloo on the defensive.
The two ponies traded blows relentlessly, the sounds of their grunts of exertion and the clash of their weapons ringing in the air. Scootaloo was not going to go down easily, though, and she pushed back, utilizing all her skill to turn the tables on her opponent. Thus they reached a standstill in the center of the battlements, dueling relentlessly, neither willing to move an inch further.
Yet despite all her skills, despite her determination to win, Scootaloo realized something awful: she was becoming fatigued. Her sword-arm was tiring, and though Applebloom was showing shades of fatigue herself, her years on the farm and the battlefield had given her an extra edge. Scootaloo simply could not compare in the end with Applebloom’s seasoned endurance. As the reality sunk in, Applebloom made a decisive blow, sending Scootaloo’s sword flying from her hoof over the battlements.
Tired and defeated, Scootaloo fell on her back, looking up into the eyes of her enemy…into the eyes of her own inevitable doom. “I…lost,” she breathed, her shock evident as Applebloom grinned in victory, lifting her own sword over her head.
“Yer reign ‘a terror’s over, Scootaloo the Warlord,” Applebloom declared.
Scootaloo was too exhausted to lift a hoof to defend herself or move away. There was nothing now that would stop the sword of her victorious foe from plunging into her defenseless belly and ending her once and for all.
Nothing except…
“Da-denk!”
Applebloom blinked in surprise at the noise that came from behind her. “What the-?”
Before she could turn though, the great warrior felt something sharp pierce deep into her back. Her eyes bugged out as she realized what had happened: a single Miniblin had stayed behind in the castle and had been waiting for the right moment to strike. Just when she had been about to kill her foe and save the princess, she herself had now been undone by one overlooked enemy.
“Ah…ponyfeathers,” Applebloom moaned as she slumped forward and fell dead on her tummy, the victorious Miniblin doing a dance over her fresh corpse.
“Da-dink! Na nyah! Nyeh nah!” it chanted.
Scootaloo just stared slack-jawed at her fallen foe, breathing heavily. And then her mouth curved upwards into an ecstatic grin as she dragged herself to her hooves. “I…I won…Ha ha! I won! See that, Princess?!”
She turned around and looked into the disbelieving gaze of Princess Sweetie Belle. “Your hero’s dead, Princess! I win! Your kingdom is now mine!”
Scootaloo stood upright on her hind legs, threw her head back, and laughed insanely.
Thunk!
Scootaloo’s laughter cut abruptly short at the noise. She opened her eyes and gazed down with disbelief at the trident now poking out of her tummy. During her overconfident burst of laughter, the princess had magicked one of the fallen Miniblins’ weapon over to herself and impaled Scootaloo while she was distracted. Scootaloo gripped the weapon with both hooves as she stared at a cold-eyed Sweetie Belle, who released her magic hold of the trident. “Are…you bucking kidding me?” Scootaloo wheezed in pained astonishment.
And then the warlord fell on her back, her eyes closing as death took hold. The last Miniblin shrieked as it saw its master fall, and then glared at the princess. Before Sweetie Belle could do anything more than stand on her hind legs in a vain attempt to back away, the angry Miniblin tossed its spear like a javelin, nailing Sweetie Belle in the spot right between her chest and tummy. “Aagh! Oh no!” she woefully cried as she grasped at the weapon of her demise. “My subjects…Forgive me…Your princess…has drawn her last…breath.”
And thus, Sweetie Belle slumped against the wall of the tower and perished herself, leaving the Miniblin as the last remaining survivor of this particular battle. It hesitantly glanced around the battlefield. “Nyeh?” it whimpered.
But then its sorrow faded as it realized something; it was now the new warlord! And then its sadness returned as it realized there were no minions left for it to command and no princess for them to steal.
At that moment, Sweetie Belle saw fit to open her eyes and let go of the trident she had been holding against her body to make it look like it was sticking out of her and looked over the tower at the scene. “Well, that didn’t go the way it was supposed to,” she said.
“Yeah, no kidding,” Scootaloo agreed from where she lay, letting go of the trident she had been poking against her belly as she sat up. She looked over at the surviving Miniblin. “Didn’t you know the good guy’s supposed to win and rescue the princess?”
The Miniblin nonchalantly shrugged. “Nyeh neh.”
“Well Ah think it made things a little more interestin’, at least,” Applebloom pointed out as she got to her hooves.
Seeing that the others were getting up, the Miniblins scattered all over the field stood up as well, chattering amongst themselves.
“Alright, fillies and gentlecolts!” came the sudden voice of Applejack as she trotted onto the scene. “Lunch is ready for y’all! Come an’ git it!”
And just like that, three hungry fillies, along with seven equally-famished Miniblins, rushed past Applejack as they swarmed towards the farmhouse, the elder farmpony chuckling in amusement as she brought up the rear.