//------------------------------// // It's a Wonderful Death (Bridle Gossip) // Story: Scootaloo Dies a Bunch // by alexmagnet //------------------------------// Scootaloo, as she was often wont to do when she was feeling particularly bored or brave—but mostly bored—was wandering through the Everfree forest. She jumped over a fallen log, scrambled through some brambles, and popped out in a clearing. Most of the forest was cast in shadowy darkness, even though it was midday, but right here the sun fell in great swaths of light that illuminated the forest floor. A patch of blue flowers were growing around a pile of rocks that sat in the middle of the clearing. Scootaloo recognized them immediately. “Oh, right. Those are Poison Joke plants.” They’d learned all about Poison Joke in class last year when Ms. Cheerilee went through her botany phase. It was basically the annoying friend everyone has of the plant world. Scootaloo rolled her eyes at the plant. Smirking, she turned away, determined not to let it prank her. It was at that moment that Scootaloo realized the fatal error in her plan. Right as she turned around, she saw a pack of timberwolves surrounding her. She gave an exasperated sigh. “Timberwolves? Really?” The second word had barely left her lips when she was attacked by the wolves. Within a few seconds, she was completely dead, none of that ‘nearly’ dead nonsense. Her broken and maimed body lay out on the rocks surrounded by Poison Joke as the sun laughed derisively at her. What happened next, Scootaloo could never have expected… because she was dead while it happened. A zebra who serendipitously was wandering through the forest came across Scootaloo’s dead body and hauled it back to her hut. Along the way, the zebra got caught up in an epic adventure that involved dragons, seaponies, prophecies, and giant mountain snakes, but since Scootaloo was dead, she had no idea about any of this. The first thing she did have an idea about was why she was in a cauldron when she woke up from being dead. Scootaloo looked around the room she found herself in, utterly lost and confused. “What the…” “Ah,” said a voice, “it appears you are awake. Perhaps you’d like me to bake you a cake?” Spinning around, Scootaloo saw a zebra standing by a table covered in potions and potion ingredients. She was busy mixing up something in a bowl, but her eyes were on Scootaloo. “I was asleep?” asked Scootaloo. The zebra chuckled. “Well, no, dear pony, you were merely a phony.” Scootaloo raised an eyebrow. “Uhh… what?” Taking the bowl with her, the zebra approached Scootaloo and gave her a sweet smile. “You were dead when I found you, but the Poison Joke instead rebounded you.” Scootaloo brought a hoof to her forehead, massaging her temple. “So, you’re saying the Poison Joke brought me back to life?” The zebra smiled. “Indeed it did. Your death it did forbid.” “Why are you rhyming everything?” “It’s part of my heritage, don’t you see?” said the zebra, taking the bowl and pouring it into the cauldron Scootaloo was still inexplicably sitting in. “Where I grew up, all rhymed in three.” Scootaloo’s eyebrow rose higher. “But you’re rhyming in couplets… poorly, I might add.” “Don’t question my tradition, or I’ll send your life into remission.” Her lips curling into a sour frown, Scootaloo groaned. “You’ve been doing this your whole life and you’re still this bad? Ugh.” “What’s so bad about my rhymes? Are they not right on time?” Scootaloo mimed dry-heaving into the cauldron she was in. “Seriously, who taught you? Get a friggin’ rhyming dictionary or something. This is just painful.” The zebra’s eyes narrowed into thin slits. “You speak of pain, but you know not what you strain.” “Oh, sweet Celestia… that one didn’t even make sense.” Scootaloo rolled her eyes as sarcastically as she could manage, which, unfortunately for her, meant she was too preoccupied with obtaining maximum sarcasm levels to notice the zebra’s hoof before it collided with the back of her head. There came a knock at the door, just as the zebra was taking her first sip of stew. She looked over at the door, and said, “Come in, come in.” As the door swung open, Apple Bloom trotted inside, closing the door behind her. “Were you even trying that time?” she asked, shrugging off the saddlebags around her back and pulling out a bag of mushrooms she had gathered. “I got everything you were looking for, Zecora. You gonna be able to make that potion for my sister and her friends now?” Zecora set her stew aside and quickly gathered up all the mushrooms from Apple Bloom and set to work cutting them up. “The mushrooms were not for they, but instead because I was tired of hay.” Apple Bloom grimaced, then, realizing what Zecora had said, sighed. “Wait, so you mean I gotta go back out there and get some more stuff?” Zecora nodded. “Unless you want your sister to be forever small, the ingredients to me you will haul.” “Fine. Fine. I’m going.” “Good,” said Zecora, returning to her stew. “Leave me with my pony stew, and you go get those items few.” “Uhh, you mean stew for ponies, right?” asked Apple Bloom, raising her eyebrow. “Yes, Apple Bloom, if that is what you thought. It’s not as if I’ll be caught,” said Zecora, giving Apple Bloom a sly wink before she took a sip of stew, smacking her lips. “Riiiiiight,” said Apple Bloom, backing away slowly. “I’m gonna go now. Bye.” And with that, she threw open the door and disappeared off into the forest, leaving Zecora by herself with her stew. Licking her lips, Zecora brought the spoon to her snout. “Reminds me of my home,” she said. “Mother’s stew always had the best arom… a.” She frowned. “Maybe I should get a rhyming dictionary…”