A Scoots in the Hoof

by Dave Storm


A Scoots in the Hoof

Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo were hanging out in their clubhouse. They had just concluded their third consecutive game of Monopony, and Apple Bloom had become sick and tired of Sweetie Belle hogging the hobo shoe playing piece; she had toppled the entire game board in frustration.

“Girls, how is this gonna get us any closer to finding our special talents?” Scootaloo exclaimed.

Apple Bloom pouted and stuck her tongue out at her friends. “I dunno, Scootaloo, maybe Sweetie Belle will earn her selfishness cutie mark!”

“At this point, I’d settle for that,” Sweetie Bell said, her face melting into a frown. Apple Bloom and Scotaloo, upon realizing they were in the same sad state as their friend, joined in her lamentation.

They were sad, sad ponies for a while.

Suddenly, Scootaloo’s face shone with determination. She paced around her two friends frantically. “Okay, board games got us nowhere. What’s next on the list?”

Apple Bloom pulled a list out of her pony pocket. “Since we finished all of our ideas, it’s time to ask one of the grown-up ponies for advice. Today we’re gonna go see Fluttershy in the woods.”

“That sounds like a nice, soft idea!” said Sweetie Belle.

Scootaloo and Apple Bloom nodded in agreement.

The three fillies put their hoof... blob... things together before shouting: “Cutie Mark Crusaders unsupervised forest adventure!”


After a brief trek through the fields and daisies and trees and stuff, Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo arrived at Fluttershy’s tree cottage. They banged their heads against the door frantically until it began to gently open.

“Hello?” They heard Fluttershy inquire.

“Miss Fluttershy, can we come in for uh visit?” Apple Bloom asked.

Fluttershy opened the door all of the way, and smiled at the three trouble-makers. “Oh, certainly, girls. Just be quiet around the animals, okay?”

“OKAY!” the three fillies shouted in unison.

Fluttershy went into the kitchen and took some pony Advil as several flamingos and a wounded aardvark stormed frantically out of her home. Meanwhile, the three girls made themselves at home on her sofa.

After returning with some bear milk, Fluttershy handed a glass to each Crusader before asking: “And to what do I owe your visit this afternoon, girls?”

“Well, we’re trying to find our talents!” Scootaloo ejaculated.

“Uh huh,” Fluttershy said.

Apple Bloom continued: “And we decided to ask a grown-up pony for help decidin’ what to do!”

“Oh, okay, uh huh,” Fluttershy encouraged.

“And uh, do you have any ideas, Ms. Fluttershy?” Sweetie Belle pleaded.

Fluttershy grinned. “Girls, this will be so nice. I have the perfect thing for you to try.” She flipped through several magazines on her dining table before selecting a pamphlet with a large “recycle” symbol emblazoned on the cover.

“Oh, here we go...” Scootaloo whined.

“Now, girls, give it a chance!” Fluttershy cooed. “My most favorite organization, Ponies for the Ethical Non-Hurting of Animals, is having a big 'Recycle Cyclone' event down at the dump tomorrow morning. The goal is to reuse all reusables and remove all hurt-ables. You might earn your environmentalist cutie marks!”

Apple Bloom shifted uncomfortably. “Mah sis doesn’t like me hangin’ around those types, are you sure it’ll be alright?” she winced.

“I’m sure Applejack wouldn’t mind if it would help, uh, animals, would she? I mean, she has a dog,” Fluttershy reasoned.

Apple Bloom smiled. “Yeah, that’s right, she does! Sounds good, then.”

“I still don’t wanna do iiiiiit!” Scootaloo moaned, sprawled out on the sofa in mock agony.

Fluttershy’s ears drooped, and she put her pamphlet back on the table. “Oh, um, well, you don’t, have to, that is...”

“No! Scootaloo’s just chicken.” Apple Bloom taunted.

“Nice try,” Scootaloo replied, more upset than she was willing to let on.

“Why do you want my sister’s cat to get killed by the dump, Scootaloo?” Sweetie Belle cried.

“UGH! Alright, I’ll do it, whatever,” Scootaloo mumbled.

Fluttershy beamed. “Woooo!” she whispered.


Sweetie Belle couldn’t help but wonder how her sister would react to the layers of dirt and grime that now covered her lower legs. The three Crusaders had been frantically sorting through trash for two hours already, and had yet to receive their Environmentalist/Trash-sifting cutie marks.

“Girls,” she panted, “can’t we take a break? I think I see Ms. Cheerilee’s group on the other side of that trash heap.”

“No... breaks...” huffed Scootaloo, stacking a third toilet seat on her already colossal pile of toilet seats. “You guys made me come all the way down here, might as well do it right.”

"Okay", Sweetie Belle said, “I just wish there was an older pony in our group right now.”

“I said we’re big ponies, we’re doing it the big pony way, by ourselves!” Apple Bloom declared. She was busy frantically constructing a snowpony out of used cotton swabs.

The three continued their drudgery across their valley of trash until Scootaloo shouted: “Hey, girls, check this out!”

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle came frantically running.

“Would you look at that!”

Scootaloo was staring intently at a series of connected plastic rings.

Sweetie Belle tapped her friend on the wing. “Scootaloo, what’s so special about these? This plastic stuff just holds together the cans of grown-up soda that Spike and Rarity always take to their private dress design sessions.”

Scootaloo remained transfixed.

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle looked at each other in confusion.

“Well, uh, sounds good, Scootaloo,” Sweetie Belle said carefully, “If you want to start collecting these plastic ring thingies, I’ll take over the toilet seats...”

Scootaloo was silent.

Apple Bloom squinted at her friend. “Alrighty, then...” The two fillies left Scootaloo to her business and returned to trash sifting.

Moments later, their activities were interrupted by a strained wheezing sound coming from the other end of the trash valley. Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom turned around and shrieked in terror.

Running around in circles, gasping for air, was Scootaloo... one of the plastic six-pack rings around her neck.

“Scootaloo!” Sweetie Belle cried, “what happened!”

The little orange filly ran up to her, tugging frantically at the plastic, her eyes pleading for help. The horrible wheeze emanating from her strangled lungs became more and more desperate as the moments ticked by.

Sweetie Belle held her friend’s wing, crying uncontrollably, while Apple Bloom ran to the edge of the trash valley and began screaming.

“HELP! MISS CHEERILEE! FLUTTERSHY! ANYPONY, HELP! SCOOTALOO, SHE NEEDS HELP!”

No reply came.

Scootaloo’s face had begun to turn blue, her futile gasps becoming weaker. She leaned against an old tire for support.

Sweetie Belle had begun frantically cutting away at the plastic with the only object she could find: An old, broken spork. The spork, however, proved ineffective at cutting through the high-quality, injection-molded composite NASA polymer that makes up a set of six-pack plastic rings.

Scootaloo gnashed her teeth at her friends, lips curled back to reveal purple, oxygen-deprived gums. She knew she only had a little more time.

Apple Bloom had returned from her attempt to get help, and began tugging on the plastic rings while Sweetie Belle cut as hard as she could with her spork.

Scootaloo tried to cough as the sharp plastic was pulled even tighter around her neck. As her vision began to fade, the last thing that she saw was the teary-eyed faces of her two best friends.

It took the two fillies a minute to realize that Scootaloo had stopped moving. She was gone.

Sweetie Belle sat back in shock, staring frantically from her asphyxiated friend to Apple Bloom. She scooted over to Apple Bloom, hugging her tightly. Apple Bloom glanced over at Scootaloo and began to sob.

Sweetie Belle held her friend and closed her eyes. “I don’t know how, but Apple Bloom, it’s gotta... it’ll be okay somehow.”

Apple Bloom wept loudly. “No it won’t! You don’t understand!”

“Yes, I do,” Sweetie Belle whispered.

“No you don’t!” Apple Bloom yelled. “Scootaloo won’t last very long, and we didn’t have any breakfast this mornin’, and the nearest Popeyes is two miles away, and the nearest KFC is five miles away, but I want it NOW!”