Somewhere that wasn't, Cheerilee ignored the fallen stack of knocked over papers and the laughter of her class. For a moment, the walls seemed to be shadows, and someone she didn’t know (her brain screamed in disagreement) was whispering to her.
“Time to play the game,” the voice said with a chuckle.
Somewhere else that shouldn't be, Red Glare was distracted by the screaming of the class, the smell of the exploded rocket, and the prone form of his recent volunteer. As terrified students ran out of the school yard to find bandages (or a blanket, if they were sharp-eyed enough), Red saw a smiling face peak over the horizon.
“Time to play the game!” It declared in tones that shook Old Canterlot, or at least this version of it. It was altogether a a different "Old Canterlot" than Cheerilee was currently in. Here, what passed for Cheerilee was a depressive mess made of taffy that quarreled with Red constantly and left town without a forwarding address or died almost as often. She had just finished volunteering for a demonstration, and was now lying on the for next to (and among) the pieces of a rocket that a more awake and aware Red would have certainly realized was overstuffed with gunpowder.
As the echoes of the face’s voice faded away in Red’s ears, he forgot it (and all of that panic that had seemed to come from nowhere) within seconds as the class quieted down, ready for the demonstration, and Cheerilee helped him steady the rocket.
“Remember to step away when I light this,” he uselessly reminded “Cheerilee,” unable to see the marionette strings that held her together. “We only get one shot at this.”
___
Somewhere, in a house that sat on the corner of madness and laughter, six young ponies opened their eyes hurriedly as a voice screamed mirthfully into their ears.
“It’s all about control, my little ponies, and if you can take it.”
As Scootaloo and Screwball’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, Snips and Snails blinked in the sunlight and overgrowth, and Applebloom and Diamond stood up in the sand, all of them heard the same declaration ringing in their mind.
“I am the game, and I want to play!”
___
The sound of groaning machinery filled Scootaloo’s ears as she lifted her head off the floor, All around her pipes bulged and gears crumpled against each other, screaming their protests into the claustrophobic spaces. The room was dimly-lit, illumination filtering in through cracks in the machinery, but she just could make out Screwball, already on her hooves and inspecting the area. Celestia, she adapts quickly.
Standing up with an unconscious wing flap she’d never admit to, Scootaloo coughed in the smoky-spicy air. “Where are we?”
Screwball kicked around some of the gear and screws. “Me am absolutely sure.” Her eyes spun as she huddled over the pile of pieces, limbs and mouth moving quickly and with purpose.
Scootaloo paced the enclosure, a chill moving up her spine as she watched a kaleidoscope of light rays visibly flicker in the steam. The back of her brain had an inkling of where they were, but the middle had shouted it into silence. If that thought had gotten to the front, the whole thing would’ve shut down.
“Okay,” she said while coughing, poking the closed walls with her hooves. “This stuff is garbage.”
“Me thought it was very well made,” replied Screwball as she worked over a mass of rusty metal.
Rolling her eyes, Scootaloo pointed at a wall of gears. “No, Screwyball look at this. I’m a mechanic, remember? This stuff doesn't make sense. It could never run for very long with breaking the whole thing.” She whirled around, pointing a hoof at a wall of chains. “Those should have rubbed themselves into pieces against the gear teeth ages ago, and certainly not stuck around long enough to get rusty. Heck,” she said as she started to turn in a slow circle, “I think someone’s actually replacing parts when we’re not looking.”
Screwball looked up and sniffed. “Me have no idea why me are thinking of a play.”
“Yeah,” Scootaloo agreed as she examined a particularly intricate rectangle of pipes, “this is for our benefit. Now, I think we can get through this way. The stuff on this wall doesn’t move, and there’s a space for--”
A massive, patchwork collection of bits in the shape of a key was dropped in front of her.
Scootaloo poked it, pushing it over. All of the pieces fit into each other, locking in place like jigsaw puzzle pieces.
“Screwy,” she said with a grin, “you can come hang out in my garage any day.”
While Screwball bounced happily, Scootaloo lifted the rusty object into a matching hole and turned it. With a click, all for walls fell away, taking the ceiling with them as they splashing into churning liquid.
“Me know where this is,” Screwball said as her eyes played amongst the girders and walkways. When no response came, Screwy looked at Scootaloo. The normally-confident and unflappable pegasus was silent and shaking. “Scootaloo, what isn’t this place?”
Screwy gestured below them to the multicolored vats of liquid that made up the entire floor. Not a single patch of solid surface lurked below their level. Looking down revealed churning pools of every color, bubbling over the thin separating walls as pipes pumped unidentifiable masses into them much too far down for Screwball to identify. Scootaloo wished she didn;t suspect what they were. The enormous room was an unsafe labyrinth of walkways, switches, and levers, suspended over the brilliant vats of sickly shades. At the end, prismatic clouds belched out of a gigantic furnace.
Screwball leaned onto Scootaloo, slightly nuzzling her neck. Scootaloo responded with a jolt, breathing heavily as the touch brought her back from whatever mental box he had hid away in. She looked into Screwball’s trusting, curious eyes and knew that she would have to give voice to her fears. Until then, it was only a suspicion, but she knew the moment she said it’s name there was no turning back.
“It’s... it’s nothing. Just an old story pegasus foals tell each other to scare themselves. It’s a story ab-b-bout where the bad and the u-useless get sent.” Scootaloo swallowed, steeling herself for the moment of truth. “I never believed in the Rainbow Factory, anyway.”
“Really, Chicken?”
Scootaloo’s eyes went wide at the familiar voice, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn around. She stared at the floor as hard as she could. As Screwball squinted in confusion above them, Scootaloo saw the shadow of a hovering shape around her. Wings drawn tight against her body, Scootaloo looked up at the hovering pegasus.
“Seems to me, you’ve always known that you’d end up here,” Rainbow Dash said with a smile.
___
Apple Bloom spat the sand out of her mouth as nudged Diamond Tiara. “Wake up. We’re here.”
Diamond rolled onto her hooves, coating her legs in the sand. “Where would here be, exactly?” As she rubbed her eyes, she heard Apple Bloom draw in a breath.
“Well now, It’s something of a right surprise.”
Diamond Tiara opened her eyes see the looming form of a swing set. There were several things wrong with this, she knew intellectually. One, the Ponyville Schoolhouse swing set had been replaced years ago. Two, it shouldn’t have been that big.
It was when she looked into the familiar eyes of the scared, blank flanked Apple Bloom that she knew where she was.
“Why...is it recess time?”
Apple Bloom snaked a limb around Diamond Tiara’s neck, pulling her off-balance. “C’mon. We gotta get out of here.” Apple Bloom’s voice sounded higher and scratchier to her, but she shrugged it off and focused on the danger at hoof. “Discord’s going to notice us any second now.”
Diamond blinked, trying to shake off a haze that clung to her head. “Discord? That sounds...”
“...quite unlikely,” said her tiara.
Apple Bloom scooted back a step, bouncing her rump on the iron swing bar. She blinked, and the tiara blinked. Each of the five rounded tips of Diamond’s tiara had a face on it, and they all smiled back at her with the same face.
“Hello, Apple Bloom,” they all said together. “How wonderful to have play time with you today.”
She took several unsteady steps toward the talking tiara. “Diamond,” Apple Bloom said as she tapped her on the forehead, “tell me that you hear that?”
The tiara shook it’s head, and Diamond Tiara followed suit.
“She didn’t hear anything,” the faces said smugly.
“I don’t hear anything,” Diamond declared as she stuck her nose in the air. “Except maybe a blank flank whining and touching me.”
“Oh, she’s good,” one of the faces said.
Another nodded. “I know she’s improving, but she barely needs directing as it is.”
Apple Bloom cast her eyes around the playground desperately.
“Call out for Miss Cheerilee,” her hairbow suggested.
“Miss Ch--”
She snorted, yanking the ribbon out of her hair. Apple Bloom started to stomp on it until a forceful shove sent her onto her side.
As Apple Bloom, spit sand out of her mouth, she searched Diamond Tiara’s face for any signs of resistance. All she saw was the predatory smile that had haunted her dreams for years. “Come on Diamond, wake up. You’re better than this.”
Diamond leaned forward until their noses were almost touching. “You got it wrong, hayseed. I’m better than you.”
A chorus of giggling sounded from Diamond’s head, and Apple Bloom heard chuckling erupt all around her.
“Good work,” said all of the Silver Spoons as they surrounded Apple Bloom.
___
The jungle smelled wrong.
The scent’s curdled Ponce’s stomach. The plants sent a sickly sweet smell down Ponce’s nostrils, bark included. The rising mist crystallized onto the trees, and even the insects smelled like the strange food the Pink One delivered, the kind that had made Ponce sick when the Brave One had tried feeding her some.
Ponce stalked onward through the treeline, her foot-claws slicing through the gelatinous grass. A small thing rushed out of the underbrush, and Ponce snapped it’s head off in an instinctive flash. She retched the squirming thing back onto the ground, gagging. The insides of the prey were a solid white with black liquid inside. Ponce kicked the noxious thing away and ran on.
Hours later, she was starving and exhausted. The Brave One was nowhere to be found, and the squirming, shiny treats from the pond the Brave One gave her were also missing from the water. Ponce had tried to drink from it, but it had only been a solid mass of fruity gunk. She was on the verge of collapse now, weakened and frustrated as she lay on the side of a hill.
Then she heard the Brave One.
The Brave One was on the top of the hill, with the Squeaky One and She Who Builds. They were smaller now, as small as when they had first found Ponce. This time, the Three Who Were One Pack were baring their teeth at Ponce.
The Brave One had always been kind, but she was laughing at Ponce now. The Three raised pointed sticks, and the Squeaky One threw one of the sticks at her with her glowing head point.
Ponce decided that if the Three wanted to eat her, she would let them. She was too tired. She closed her eyes. Perhaps in the Time Beyond, she would see her original pack.
As the wind shifted, a smell jolted her eyes open. The Brave One stood over Ponce, raising the pointed stick, but the Brave One smelled wrong. Instead of oil, sweat, laughter and regret, she smelled of candy, the wretched and awful candy that was everywhere. She Who Builds smelled sweetly-soured, and the Squeaky One stank like a block of the white that is held over fire.
Ponce leapt at her, snarling of anger and endings.
___
Snips heard the voices as he came down the stairs.
“He is a little on the heavy side, darling.”
“Have you seen the way he looks at me, Rarity?”
“Sweetie Belle, simply everypony has noticed. It’s by far time that we--”
They stopped as Snips entered the kitchen of Carousel Boutique. From the bottom of the landing he spared a brief glance at them both before ambling past into the kitchen. The two sisters shared a guilty giggle, averting their eyes.
That was why they didn’t see the scissors until too late.
“Hello, Snips,” Rarity said while averting her eyes. “You’re late ag--”
A glowing pair of fashion scissors flew through her tail. After a moist, sucking sound, Rarity’s tail fell onto the floor in a single, bouncy mass.
She sprang to her hooves as Sweetie Belle screamed. Snips turned to her, sweat running down his face in rivulets as he lifted a hoof to his mouth. “Hold still.” In the history of Equestria, that statement has worked fewer times than a bubblegum- based suit of full plate, and its track record improved not a bit as Sweetie Belle bounced across the kitchen floor.
The scissors flew through Sweetie, leaving a taffy-like chunk of tail at Snips’ hooves as she ran out the front door.
Snips breathed a sigh of relief as he regarded the second piece of candy and starting scanning the room, slowly stepping towards the door. Dozens of fashion scissors and (even a pair of garden shears) shined brightly as they slowly orbited him, points facing outwards. His composure cracked just before he stepped a hoof out the front door when Rarity called out, “Snips, please don’t leave me.”
He sighed, turning around to see her sprawled on her fainting couch, forelimb thrown across her brow. “Snips, darling, what brought you to perform such violence?”
“Well,” he said as he peeked out of the doorway, “I f-f-figured I’d better test...Wait, why am I talking to you?” He shook his head a few time. “Whoooh. Gotta watch that.”
As his hoof hovered over the welcome mat, Rarity stood up, whipping her mane around her in a way Snips could never forget. “I am appalled to think that, after all I taught you, you could you possible treat me like that.”
Kicking the doorframe in frustration, Snips whirled on “her” with gritted teeth. “L-l-look, we’ve been dancing around it quite a bit, but let’s come clean, sister. You’re a marshmallow. Y-y-you’re made out of marshmallow.” He breathed in as she advanced on him. “Y-y-you're just a d-distraction. I can’t hear you, la-la--”
As "she" grew close a strange look gleamed in “her” eyes, and the marshmallow-thing made a smile that could have sold a line of perfume. “I could be much nicer than real.”
“What.”
“I could be such a sweet, soft marshmallow,” it said as it gave his face a fluffy nuzzle. “I hear once you stick them and warm them properly they just melt for you.”
Snips blinked. After thirty seconds of harsh metal slashing noises, he turned his back on the quivering pile of white parts and walked away. Just as he reached the door he stopped, looking back around with a snort. High on confidence, he shouted back at the bouncing pile of white cubes.
“My future sister-in-law is a proper lady, Discord.”
His head held high, he strode onto the front lawn, squinting at the horizon. Bladed instruments still spinning around him, he paced back and forth as he considered it.
“O-okay, so this is a play, right?” He kept talking to himself, knowing that he was only putting off the moment of terrible suspense that lurked ahead. “But instead of a budget of bits, you got one of concentration. I-I b-b-b-b-bet you fake some stuff. You can’t keep your attention on everything at once. Like that sunset over there. I bet it’s not that far off after all. Just small and really close.” He smiled. “After all, you probably expected that I’d be too busy...”
Snips closed his eyes and pawed at the ground for a second, then stopped. He opened them and stared at the distant, inconsistent trees with a still rage.
“My name is Snips,” he said as he took a step forward. “I cut things. My cutie mark is cutting things.” He was jogging at a good trot by then. “If I met Queen Majesty on the road,” he shouted, “I could cut her.”
Eyes wide open, he ran full tilt at a setting sun that did not move away.
“I will cut that wall. I will cut that sun! Discord, I’m g-gonna cut you out completely!”
Snips ran at the horizon until he cut the sky.
___
Four blue hooves landed on the girders, shaking the entire infrastructure of the room. Rainbow Dash flashed a toothy smile at Scootaloo and Screwball as the metal bridges vibrated over the bubbling pit.
“Well, Chicken,” the Rainbow-thing said, “looks like the floors aren't so stable.” She started walking forward, heavily slamming the metal underneath her with every step. “What’re you going to do when it collapses? Fly?”
Scootaloo stood still, shaking more than the ground could have caused her. She felt the girder lighten, and a quick glance behind assured her that Screwball had leapt onto a higher walkway a good ten hooves away. Typical, Scoots thought. They all leave.
“Aaaaand... you’re alone. Taking on the awesome and disappointed Rainbow Dash maro y maro.”
She was almost within a wingtips reach of Scootaloo. Rainbow started snorting and pawing the the metal lacework of the overhang as Scootaloo stared back at her.
“You know the legend.” Dash reared up in glee. “Useless fillies get turned into--”
A swinger girder slammed into Rainbow from the side, knocking her into the air. Her wings became a blur as she blinked and worked to right herself.
Scootaloo glanced up to she a grinning Scewball hopping from pipe to pipe like an acrobatic ballerina. As the bridge under Scoots started to dip, Screwy winked at her and started to tighten bolts seemingly at random. She paused a second to give Scootaloo a wink.
Scootaloo swallowed and nodded. Okay. If I’m trapped in a metal crazyland being knocked apart, it just may be a lunatic I’m looking for. “Good work...uh...screwing things, Screwy! Keep this place together while I deal with the thing.”
Screwy hung upside from a steam-pipe and saluted before whipping back up to the metal rafters. Just as she did, a prismatic flash slammed into the side of Scootaloo’s bridge. She felt the bridge drop to an angle, and grabbed the railing with both limbs as it steadied.
“You may want to stay right there,” Screwball cried from above.
As a shadow fell across her, Scootaloo turned and ran for a dead end, galloping towards a gigantic lopsided wall of pipes.
“You can’t outrun Rainbow Dash, you cheap imitation,” she heard as the suspended floor shook again.
Scootaloo slid to a halt in front of the pipes. “You know what’s interesting about the Stalliongrad number seven pipe nexus joint?"
“Bored now.”
Scootaloo could feel the hoofprints getting closer. Suddenly she spun around, wielding a pipe in her mouth. The Rainbow-thing shrieked as the metal connected with her left wing, crumpling it.
"The interesting thing," Scootaloo said as she flipped the pipe into the air, catching it with her mouth, "is that it screws out of a frame so easily."
“What the hay did you do?” The Rainbow-thing squeaked out, quivering.
Her answer was a faceful of pipe, and her response was to flip backwards onto the catwalk, gritting her teeth in pain.
“I know Rainbow Dash,” Scootaloo said out of the corner of her mouth as she approached the sprawled pegasus. The catwalk was stained with a dark purple, smelling like rancid blueberries. She lifted the pipe, bringing it down on the struggling candy creature’s other wing. The Dash thing screamed as the wing exploded into jam.
“She’s the closest thing I have to a sister.”
There was a squelching sound, and another scream. Screwball, watching from the rafters, closed her eyes and plugged her ears.
Scootaloo looked into two terrified magenta eyes as she stepped onto a hind knee that popped into jam.
“Lady, you sure ain’t Rainbow Dash. Rainbow Dash is loyalty. She would never do this in anyone’s wildest dreams.”
The half-splattered thing pulled it’s head forward, nearly detaching the neck in the process. “And you suck at being Rainbow Dash, groundpounder. You can't even--”
The head smashed into the side rail as a the sounds of metal pulping jam grew louder. Through her plugged ears, Screwball heard a voice screaming angrily through a mouth full of pipe, interspersed with squelching sounds.
“No, I’m not her! I am never, ever going to be like her!”
Something burbled through half-formed vocal cords as it was pushed into the bubbling liquid below, and screamed as it sizzled.
Scootaloo dropped the pipe onto the catwalk, panting as she leaned against the railing.
“And she’s still proud of me,” she whispered with tears in her eyes.
___
Apple Bloom huddled in the metal shelter under the slide as the sound of pounding rocks on its outside continued. She was lucky that the Ponyville Schoolhouse had replaced the old one with a fancy new four-legged model with a little room underneath. If they wanted to, she knew that nothing she could do would prevent a full dinner set of Silver Spoons from bodily dragging her out. The only possible goal they could have had was fear.
That just served to piss her off.
Bruised and aching, Apple Bloom leaned against the battered frame, edging close to the door.
“Diamond? Can you hear me?” The pelting of rocks died, replaced by the sound of (mostly identical) muffled giggling.
“What’s up, Hayseed? Going to beg me to let you out?”
Apple Bloom breathed in. Hay, if this doesn’t work I’ll take a few of ‘em with me. “Y’all know we’re not fillies anymore, right?”
Giggles grew into laughter. “Why should I trust a blank flank?”
The maniacal chorus of hench-fillies laughed in unison.
Apple Bloom banged her head against the metal wall in frustration as she hid in the dark. “I wish this was something I could fix with a hammer,” she muttered. Her mouth curled into a smile at the logical progression of that thought, but she shook it away. Even then, there were too many.
“What would Snails do?” Good luck guessin' that one. Heck, I don’t even Miss Twilight could think the way he does. “What would Applejack do?”
Apple Bloom blinked, then shrugged.
“Okay,” she nearly sighed out. “Here goes.”
Slightly sticking her muzzle out of the door, she drew a deep breath as she waited for the rocks. After a second’s peace, she hollered out, “Diamond? Y’all don’t have to be afraid, sugarcube.”
The Spoons stayed silent.
“What?” Apple Bloom could hear Diamond pace closer to the slide. “What are you talking about, farm girl?”
Apple Bloom closed her eyes and concentrated hard on the phrasing of her neck sentence, not noticing that she grew about three inches as she did so.
“Afraid o’ bein’ alone, ah mean.” Dangnabbit, I don’t talk like that anymore, she thought, growing another inch. I mean, unless I want to. “Ah...I mean, afraid of growin’ up.”
After a moment’s pause, one of the Spoons spoke up. “Hey, I know! Why don’t we--”
“Can it!” Diamond’s voice sounded closer. “Why would I be afraid of growing up?”
Apple Bloom drew deep breath. “You’re afraid of not being important anymore,” she said as she huddled in the cramped confines under the slide. “On the playground, you where the first filly with a mark and the rich guy’s daughter.”
“I don’t see a mark on you!”
Apple Bloom could hear Diamond’s closeness. She must have been right outside. After a moment’s hesitation, she squeezed through the slide’s legs and stood up. She shook her long mane out of her eyes and stared down at the tiny, surprised child in a tiara.
“Look again,” she said. “We all got our marks, Diamond, and we left this place long ago. I know Filthy wants you to take over the store, and Silver’s been hanging out with Sweetie more often. You can’t strut around as the biggest,meanest princess on the playground anymore. It’s time to grow up.”
“That’s not true!”
Apple Bloom flinched as the child pitched a rock at her flank, sharp pain running down her thigh. She bit her lip, then lowered onto her knees.
“If you had any other friends, why did you come to our treehouse for help?”
The crowd of Silver Spoons stood dumbly as Diamond Tiara sniffled. One moment she was a sniffling filly that could have rode Apple Bloom, and in the next she was a red-eyed, angry teen.
“You want me to cry, Hayseed?”
Apple Bloom steeled herself. She had faced down monsters, maniacs, and more, and this was the hardest thing she’d ever have to do. Applejack could do it, she thought. Then she leaned forward and hugged Diamond Tiara.
“You don’t have to do this alone,” she whispered into Diamond’s ear, and felt her shake.
As they held each other, one of the Silver Spoons cantered closer. “Come one, Diamond, buck her in the face!”
Diamond’s wet eyes snapped open. “Hayseed, you’re wrong about one thing.”
Uh oh. “Um, what?”
“I’m sick of doing Discord’s work for him,” she said with a grin. “It’s time to go on...”
Diamond kicked up onto her feet and bucked the nearest Silver off the ground and into the air. She knocked into a half-dozen others, sending them flying with the sound of clattering wood.
“...strike,” Diamond concluded. Her head was down, her nostrils snorting and flaring as she bared her teeth at the terrified mass of identical fillies. “Apple Bloom, right now I am the biggest, meanest princess on this playground, and it’s time we taught these skanks a lesson.”
Apple Bloom trotted by her side. How’s that for a friendship letter, sis?
___
Somewhere in an empty hallway, a banging sound behind a wooden wall became louder and louder. Suddenly the wall crumbled into dust, leaving behind a gaping hole with rusted pipes behind it. Bathed in a kaleidoscope of steam, Scootaloo and Screwball pulled themselves into the hallway and both collapsed, panting.
Scootaloo looked around at her surroundings. It reminded her of an old-style hotel, with wooden paneling and doors painted cherry red, chains drawn across them that met in a combination lock. If she saw this place on screen in the Ponyville cinema, it would be in black-and-white. As it was, the images around her were grainy, with an occasional flicker in the filmstrip of reality.
“Ugh,” she eloquently commented as she struggled to her hooves. “Okay, Screwy, you were right. It was that wall. I have no idea how this place makes so much sense to you.”
Turning around, she saw Screwball running her hooves along the doors, sniffing at the air. Screwball licked one of the doors experimentally, and Scoots didn’t bat an eye. She had grown up around Pinkie Pie, after all.
“Screwy? What’s behind the door, Screwy?”
Screwball stared at the chained face of door number two-hundred-thirty-seven-and-eighteen-elevenths. As she put her ears to the door, her beanie and spiral eyes spun wildly.
“This is a disaster,” she squeaked out in a familiar voice that made the blood from Scootaloo’s face drain. “You said you worked on this dress! They laughed me off stage before my first song ended. We had to refund the tickets, Rarity! We’ve lost everythi--”
“Okay, enough,” Scootaloo said as she wandered forward. So, everypony’s trapped behind one of these rooms. How do we get inside one?”
“You don’t, Discord said from down the hall.
“Run,” Scootaloo said, but Screwball was shaking too hard with fear to comply.
“So, the prodigal daughter returns,” Discord said, levitating down the hallway as he examined his nails with a bored look. “I’m overjoyed.” His gaze jumped to Screwy. “There’s new things I’d love to do with that brain of yours. What happens if I make your legs think they’re one the wrong side of your body?”
“Run, Screwy!”
Galvanized with fear, Screwball galloped after Scootaloo. At the end of their hallway it branched off into two directions. Behind them, the sound of chuckling drew ever closer.
Scootaloo panted in place for a moment. “You go left and stay clear. I can end this now.”
Screwy shook her head wildly. “Spitting up is a good idea!”
“I’ll be fine,” Scootaloo said as she ran down the rightmost hallway. “Cheerilee said so, remember?”
Biting her lip, Screwy ran away from the only friendly face she had seen since waking up, and found herself in a circular room of doors. As she turned behind her, a door that wasn’t there before slammed shut, cutting off her exit.
“Wonderful. Me thought this was a great idea to begin with.”
___
Down another path, Scootaloo pushed herself, straining her legs at the slim hope she had seen at the end of the hallway.
“Oh, Scootaloo,” she heard behind her. “I’m getting closer! Maybe we’ll play freeze tag. I’ll touch you, and you’ll freeze!”
Her last chance in sight, Scootaloo leapt out of the opened window into the black outside. Her heart stopped for a second as she sailed through the void into nothingness, but soon her hooves landing on the unseen ground outside the funhouse. It was glowing glaringly bright, she noticed, without actually illuminating any of the blackness around her.
She turned and grinned at Discord, peered at her from the window with a bored look on his face.
“One word, Discord. One word and I end this.”
“Really?” He leaned on the window sill, flipping and catching his detached head with one claw. “What would that be, pray tell? Eggplant? Antidisestablishmentarianism? Cellar door?”
Scootaloo drew in a deep breath. “This is only a dream, Discord, and you’re just the nightmare of my childhood. And I haven’t needed to fear nightmares in years.”
She closed her eyes, reared back, and screamed, “Luna!”
The edges of the darkness lit up with the light of angry thunderclouds. Scootaloo saw that she was standing on nothing as a brilliant, silver light burned away all of the shadows. With eyes of brilliant light, a dark and vengeful goddess descended from a gigantic moon that hung close to the funhouse. Her hooves crackling with lightning as she hit the ground.
“I got a dream buddy, Discord,” Scootaloo said to the shocked draconequus, “And now she’s gonna kick your--”
“I’m a pretty, gothy princess,” Luna screamed in a loud sing-song voice. “Would you like to brush my mane while we listen to emo music?”
“What.”
Luna’s head straightened as her eyes went dead, the sound of a zipper being pulled coming from her back. A seam opened up in her back, and the limp fabric “princess” collapsed as a second Discord drew himself out of the costume. With a smile he tugged in the air, and the sound of a click heralded a blinding glare. Scootaloo blinked until she made out the grinning draconequus holding the pull-chain of a ceiling light inside a bare, wooden room.
“I’m still in the freaking funhouse, aren’t I?”
He nodded, barely containing his laughter. “You feel for it! A self-contained mental subdimension, and you thought there’d be an open window!” He grinned at Scootaloo, leaning in close. “You didn’t really think it’d be that easy, did you?”
“You know,” she said with a smirk, “for a second there, yeah. I kinda did. Do your worst. I’m ready.”
“Oh, such a boast. Let’s put that one to the test.
___
Screwy paced the confines of her cage of doors, worrying running across her face as she passed the same padlocks again and again. The repetitive path took less time to walk with every go-through, and she was certain the room itself was shrinking.
Experimentally, she tapped one of the combination locks. There were seven dials. It was a metal wheel of long numbers, and she stuck her tongue out of the corner of her mouth in concentration (a gesture she had picked up from her “aunt” Ditzy), as she gave it a few experimental spins.
The opposite side of the room bumped her in the rump. Terrified, Screwball realized she only had one shot at the lock. She extended her shaking hooves over it, then closed her eyes and spun the wheels as fast as she could. As a symphony of clicks reached her ears, she slammed a limb into the lock. It stopped moving, clicked open, and fell to the ground just as the shrinking room pushed her against the door. She shuddered as she considered what could have happened if she had picked the wrong number.
Screwball found herself lying in a tangle of grass. She thought that her lawn got tangled in summer when Red lazed off about mowing, but this grass was as wide as a board and taller than her twice over. Experimentally, she picked a direction that felt good to her and walked off. Her heart and hooves beat faster as she heard voices through the underbrush.
“A giant Apple Bloom with a salt shaker. Uh, that’s not very creative.”
“Shut up, twerp.”
“Honestly, it’s kind of obvious.” she heard Snails say as she raced towards the sound. “I have four guesses about what your wisecrack is gonna be.”
Screwball poked her head through the overgrowth, her jaw dropping open in shock at the sight before her. A bored looking caterpillar with Discord’s head reclined on a mushroom, staring bloody murder at a pony-sized snailshell with Snails’ head sticking out of it.
“Merciful Tirek!” Discord looked to be at his wits’ end. “Come now, how many clairvoyants can one little podunk town produce?
“One a generation, I’d expect.” Snails lacked limb, speed, or hope, but he was smiling. “I just know because you’re bein’ pretty transparent.” He gave Discord a bashful smile. “I expected better from your reputation.
In the bushes, Screwball was sweating. Me HAve SeconDS beForE thiNgS go GoOd. Me NeeD to NoT to ThiNK OF thIngs!
In a flash of light, Discord turned from insect to draconequus, hovering in the air with his talons on his mismatched hips. “No one like a know-it-all!”
Snails stared at him blankly for a second. “Hey, you’re omniscient,aren’t you?”
Discord’s chest puffed out. “The very closest thing to it in Equestria, my little snailly.”
“Ah. So that’s why no one likes you.”
A thunderclap sounded as the garden ground was pounded with rain, and Discord narrowed his eyes. He extended his his claws into the air. “When I snap my fingers, boy, you’re going to--”
And that was when, swiftly and bloodless, Discord’s thumbs rolled into the grass at the snip of two levitating pairs of scissors. He threw back his head, howling in pain and frustration before throwing his arms in front of his face to guard against a cloud of swirling, sharpened metal.
Snips leapt onto the mushroom and bucked the squealing god in the stomach, sending him tumbling head-over-tail into the grass. He turned to Snails with a smile.
“Did you expect this, good buddy?”
Snails shrugged as best as he could without shoulders. “Yup. You never let anyone bully you.” He suddenly started choking as her found Screwball forelimbs thrown around his neck.
“Me am so sad to see you both!”
“Me too, kid,” Snips said as he jumped down. "Now let’s get--”
Discord snorted as he rose out of the grass. “Now, you little butterball, I’m going to...going to...”
He waved his fingers uselessly, then dropped to his knees as he started rooting around in the grass.
“I’m going to make you so sorry once I find a thumb!”
The three teens responded with uproarious laughter, and Discord’s face darkened.
“No pony laughs at me.”
“Nope,” Snails said, shaking. “No matter, uh, how hard you try!”
Steam fell out of Discord’s ears before his face brightened up.
“Uh oh,” Snips whispered.
With the slow motion of a conjurer producing a rabbit from a hat, Discord dramatically lifted a thumb into the air.
“Run,” Snails said.
Screwy shook her head. “Me will leave you immediately.”
“Run! I can’t keep up, and you can’t carry me.”
Discord jabbed the severed thumb onto his hand, crying out in pain as it bent backwards. “Wrong hand! How did I even do that? My limbs are color-coded!”
“Please, Snips. Run.” Tears were running down Snails's face. “I can’t think of a way out.”
Screwball ran behind Snips and bit his tail, pulling him towards cut-out rents in the fabric of reality behind which a dingy motel hallway beckoned.
“First,” said Discord as he flexed his fingers, “I’ll take the slimy know-it-all and--”
A hail of scissors pelted him, cutting him into quickly assembling pieces that glowered with rage.
“Come on, Discord!” Snails shouted at him as he ran back into the funhouse. “Chase the doughboy!”
___
Diamond Tiara strained as she leaned on the boards holding shut a living room window. All around her the walls of the Apple family house strained inward under the timber wolves assault.
“Hey, Hammer Butt,” she screamed to Apple Bloom. “I need more nails on this window, pronto! Giddy-up!”
Across the room, Apple Bloom hammered frantically on an opposite wall. Beside her, Granny Smith rocked back and forth in her chair with the look of a pig farmer who came in last at the county show.
“Apple Bloom, I just want ‘cha ta know that everything that happened is yer fault.”
Biting the hammer so hard she left marks, Apple Bloom said nothing as she pounded away on a makeshift barricade. A wooden snout pushed in through a large knothole, and Apple Bloom drew a whimper from the owner as she nailed it into place.
“Yuh see, as the runt o’ the litter ever your parents--”
Granny’s head exploded into green gumdrop gunk as a Diamond Tiara kicked an iron spittoon through her forehead.
“Thanks,” Apple Bloom mumbled through a mouthful of hardware as Diamond joined her at the window, holding down a struggling plank.
“Shout if you need me,” she replied, accentuating her sentence by bumping her rump into Apple Bloom’s. “I’d hate for you to get left behind, partner.”
Ah am rightly never gonna get over that.
Across the room, something snarling smashed it’s jaws through the front door.
___
Snips felt his heart pounding almost out of his chest as he tried to keep up with Screwy down corridor after corridor. Finally, he fell to his knees. “Scr-sc-screwy. C-can’t. Run. F-fatboy, remember?”
Screwball turned, worrying in her spiral-surrounded pupils. She hopped onto one leg and spun in a circle, whipped her hooves across half-a-dozen locks locks. All of them fell to the floor in her wake.
“Don’t hide. Follow me. Me can’t lead him on.”
Snips raised himself onto one leg, panting. “I was kinda sorta s-supposed to be the d-distraction, Screwy!” Shrugging he listened to the wails of despair coming out of the doors. As the sounds of world’s ending endlessly filled his ears, his eyes jolted fully open at the soft, sad melody of one particular apocalypse. Snips leapt into that door.
Some time later, Screwball ran up a flight of stairs to find herself on the funhouse roof. Looking over the wooden fence showed her the house, hovering in the an endless field of stars. Ribbons of mist crossed the sky above her at odd angles. Screwball would have sworn that, for a brief second, she saw a door above open up out of nothing and close again.
“Well, well. Daddy’s very disappointed in you. He’s going to send you to your room, baby. My little walking, talking get-out-of-stone-free card has become very naughty.” He flexed his claws. “I need you intact, you know. Not happy.”
Screwball turned in time to dodge Discord’s outstretched arms as he lunged at her. As he flew at her again, she rolled across the roof.
“Don’t wait,” she said with a leap over him. “Why you not chasing me? Why you just snap fingers?”
He shot up into the air, grinning as his shadow fell across her.
“Something, my broken little experiment, you have to stop and smell the roses. Now, let’s--”
“Hey, Discord! I cut through the walls of your stupid, predictably, absolutely not wheelchair-safe funhouse!”
Rolling his eyes, Discord shrugged. “Can’t I get one uninterrupted gloat? Boy, I’ll deal with you later!” He lowered himself toward Screwball. “Now, where were we?”
“I cut some folks out of their dreams, Discord! There’s one or two people here who want to shake hands with you!”
Screwy saw Discord’s eyes catch fire and incinerate as the veins on his neck strained and popped, sending clouds of confetti into the air. He grew twice his size, spinning in the air to scream at Snips with seven horned heads. “Shut up! For one merciful second, just shut up! I don’t care what simpering child or weaponless Element you managed to--
A flurry of feathers and claws slammed into him from the side, kicking and screaming. The black-and-yellow bundle of rage shrieked as bits of Discord were sliced off like pieces of jelly. A cleanly severed hand bounced across the floor and snapped it’s fingers. Ponce stopped tearing into bouncy, candy torso as a cannon shot a pony-sized fireball candy into her, knocking her prone form through the railing on the opposite side of the roof.
“I,” Discord said as he reassembled, “Have. Had. Enough!” Her rolled up suddenly-appearing sleeves as he stalked towards Snips. “No professional can work under constant assaults from hecklers!”
And that was when the gigantic, scaly purple arm broke through the ceiling of the funhouse from below, rose high into the air, and slapped down on Discord, spiking him like a volleyball back into the building.
As the dust settled, Screwball peered down into the yawning hole Discord had disappeared down through dozens of floors with shock on her face. As a shadow fell over her, she looked up into the eyes of a gigantic yet slightly gawky dragon. It was giving her a thumbs up.
Spike squinted at her. “Screwball, right?”
She nodded, smiling up at the gargantuan teenage reptile.
“‘Kay. Makes sense, I guess. I can slap him around a little, but that ‘s probably more a fun way of drawing this out. Do you know how to beat him?”
She nodded, and Spike cracked his knuckles.
“Okay, then. Leave everything to “little Spikey-Wikey.” He turned around to Snips, who stood at the edge of the stairs next to Sweetie Belle. “You keep her safe, and find Twilight and her sister, okay?”
Snips saluted.
“All right then.” He placed his gigantic palms of the roof and leaned over the hole Discord had been flung down. “Hey, Discord! I’m here to eat gems and kick your tail, and I’m all out of gems!” The building shook as he dived into the hole, nearly splitting the roof in half. Snips stared dumbly at the fissure as Screwy walked over and hugged him.
“I-I-I remember when I was bigger than him.”
Screwball patted him on the head, then turned to Sweetie Belle. She stuck out her tongue and blew a raspberry before grinning, then shivered. Snips and Sweetie stared in concern as Screwy started coughing up something substantial-sounding. She swallowed it, whipped the blood off her nose, and smiled with bleeding gums.
“Hello, Sweetie Belle,” she said. “I’m Screwball. I’m a friend.”
“Are...are you okay?”
Screwy shrugged. “Didn't have an aneurysm this time. At least, not yet. I just needed to make you understand quickly. Stay here,” she said with worry in her eyes. “He probably won’t look up here for a while, and Snips and I have business downstairs.”
A yellow head poked up from the side of the roof and weakly asked, “Meep?”
“Ponce!” Snips hugged the bedraggled reptile tightly. “You’re okay!”
“Sqeeeeeeonk!”
“Snips,” Screwball said gently. “We have to go.” She nodded to Sweetie, then walked downstairs.
Eyebrows raised, Snips ruffled the feathers on Ponce’s head. “Okay, girl. I need you to stay here and guard Sweetie Belle, okay?”
His answer was a gigantic tongue licking his nose.
Snips walked to Sweetie, wiping the drool off of his face. “U-U-Um. I g-g-gotta go.” He sighed. “I’m really g-glad you’re safe. I w-w-was so worried.””
She nodded, her brow furrowed. “I was worried about everypony, too.”
Snips bit down his immediate reply. Ah, Tartaurus. I taunted a god today. Might as well go for broke.
He leaned forward, kissing Sweetie Belle on the cheek. Her face turned redder than Big Macintosh as Snips pulled back and winked. “Be safe, okay.” He disappeared down the stairs.
Ponce leapt next to Sweetie Belle, purring.
“Yeah,” she said, wobbling on her feet. “I know.”
___
Screwy nearly limped through the cavernous halls of the funhouse. Her mind was screaming at her to run, but it was also screaming geometrical patterns, showtunes, and an ordered list of everyone she had talked to today, so she tuned it out. As she forced herself onward, coughing and running her head, she felt vaguely irritated that nopony had commented on how every angle in the place was at least seven degrees off, but let it slide. It had been a long day.
Snips followed behind, noting the trail of red, liquid breadcrumbs that dripped from her face. She had once fell to the ground on her forelimbs, and as she had turned back to him her face was a mess of tears and embarrassment. He had nuzzled her neck and wordlessly eased her back onto her hooves. After that, she had leaned on him for a while.
“Don’t hurt yourself on my behalf,” he whispered. “I can understand you find.”
She ran a playful hoof through his hair. “Nay, brave shearer of evil, I hurt not. Describing a dungeon’s layout is natural to Pearlshield, knight of Foamrider. I swear I will tax myself no more.
“Um. So, where are we going,” he asked, dreading the answer.
Screwball coughed. “Thirty-seven hooves ahead, them a left turn followed by a staircase down. After that...”
She trailed off at his incredulous face. “Snips? I’ve been there before.”
He nodded, noting a statue of Celestia being dipped in something molten and the distant, the shaking in the floor, and the constant sound of distant destruction. “Screwy, have you noticed that the layout of this place keeps shifting?”
Her spiraling eyes rolled upwards. “Verily. Forsooth, they’ve shifted slightly in the last minute. We’ll have to adjust our path after the third turn.” She snorted something up her nose. “The last twenty feet just shortened; we’re not close enough to see that yet, though.”
He decided not to ask. Once, after making a left turn, Screwball chuckled. “Okay, sorry, now it’s a right, turn us around.”
“Wait. Why didn’t we turn right to begin with?”
She shrugged. “Left was correct when we took it, my brave knight.”
He kept silent after that until they reached a hole from out of which poured steamed rainbows. Screwball pushed off of him experimentally and found sure footing on her own hooves. Placing a hoof in front of her lips, she crawled back into the Rainbow Factory.
Snips followed, sweating from a combination of the humid heat pouring off the color vats and the unsteady metal walkways. “So, h-have you seen Aby? She might have found where Snails was.”
Screwball shook her head, and Snips dropped his, sobbing.
“Screwball, i-i-i-it’s nuh-nuh-not f-f-fair. Why didn’t he get me? In these kinda plays, the fat funny guy’s supposed to...to...”
She as they dropped down onto a larger catwalk, she turned back, reaching a hoof to Snips as he stayed sprawled on the ground. He pulled onto it like a liferope, hugging her and snaking as he buried his face in her coat.
“I-I-I-I did e-e-everything I needed to. I fought a d-d-draconequus. I saved the g-g-girl.” He blew wet snort, and Screwball only hugged him tighter. “I want them to know! It’s not f-f-f-f--”
“Shhh.” She whispered into his ear. “Shhh.” A tear rolled down her face. “Me promise everything will be okay. Me just need to not find the furnace.”
___
Well into the parent conference, Cheerilee stared at the scars in her teacher’s desk through bleary eyes, her head in her hooves. The screams of the angry parents assaulted her senses from the other side of the desk. Why can’t they just converse normally? She nearly put her head on her desk as she felt another glob of the father’s spittle fly out of his mouth, landing on her neck.
Removing her hooves from her face, she smiled as she held onto her mask for dear life. She would not break down here. “Look, Mister and Misses Shinybrick, I know you have a point. I know Principal Placeholder agrees with you. I just think that--”
Discord slammed open the door of the classroom. His left claw massaged his neck as he staggered inside. “Miss Book Report, you have no idea what trouble your little special-ed student is giving me.”
“Discord?” Cheerilee pushed away from her desk. “Why would you be here? I’m not Twilight Sparkle or anything.”
“This is ridiculous,” shouted the red-faced father. “This conference is supposed to last until seven-forty, and I will not-
He pointed at Cheerilee. “You, Remember.”
She sucked in a ragged breath, then narrowed her eyes.
Discord waved his finger at red-faced Mister Lusterbrick. “You, shut up. You’re a taco.”
He was. His wife was utterly confused, but kept quiet due to years of matrimonial training. Discord nodded, levitating to the former Mister Lusterbrick’s chair. He carefully picked up the taco and handed it to Mrs. Lusterbrick. “Be a doll, and hold this. Be careful. He’s a little cracked.”
Turning back to Cheerilee, she noticed sunken bags underneath Discord’s red, raw eyes. She smiled genuinely for the first time in her memory. “How’s she doing, Discord? You look like you need a last-period-planning nap.”
.
He sighed. “Look, Miss ‘Save-Our-School', and listen closely. I’m going to see your daughter now.” He leaned backwards onto the corner of a suddenly appearing boxing ring, towel around his neck. A chihuahua in a trainer suit walked out of nowhere and pitched a bucket of orange baby alligators towards him. As they splashed against his face the wriggling reptiles exploded into liquid, after which Discord favored the dog with a thumbs-up.
“I’m not out yet, Misses Flower Rump. I’ve come by to pick you up for the main attraction.” He stood up as a bell sounded. “We’re going to see Screwball now. When we meet...” He smiled. “Well, it’s not going to be very funny.”