//------------------------------// // Chapter 9 // Story: Extra Equestrial Mayhem // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// “Lots of good results being returned on the centaur fillies CNA.” Rhubarb exclaimed. “CNA?” Buttermilk replied. “How did you make it through school?” Rhubarb demanded. “I don’t know.” Buttermilk replied. “CNA. Cutie Nucleic Acid. The polymeric macromolecular compounds that are the blueprints for all ponykind. The building blocks of life.” Rhubarb explained. “I can’t remember graduating, how puzzling. I have my diploma on the wall…” Buttermilk pondered, puzzled. “Cafe Mocha has earth pony CNA. Betelgeuse has pegasus CNA. Obviously. Bon Mot is the most curious. She has unicorn CNA but no horn.” Rhubarb said. “Shouldn’t things with CNA be cute?” Buttermilk mumbled. “Explains Cafe Mocha’s exceptional strength.” She added. “I’ve been meaning to ask,” Rhubarb said, asking, “about your cutie mark. It is a butter churn. How did a pegasus get a butter churn as a cutie mark?” “It showed up after I milked the manticore.” Buttermilk replied, scowling. “Oh… GROSS!” Said Rhubarb, her eyes widening. “Shut… up… Rhubarb!” Buttermilk demanded. “Everypony has something they're good at.” “Mine is a good sensible microscope.” Rhubarb boasted. “Bad news everypony!” Doctor Broadneck said, making his entrance with a suitable catch phrase. “The centaur foals have escaped!” The two mares stood silently, blinking rapidly, trying to take the news in. “Out into the public?” Buttermilk said, after a long moment of trying to comprehend this magnitude of failure. “Oh, we are all so very horned.” “Indubitably.” The doctor said. “I expect that Luna will move us to lunar research base thirteen for this foul up. I hope she remembers to close the airlock when she leaves, a real pity what happened to the last research team stationed there.” **Scene dissolve** It was a beautiful day in Canterlot. The sort of day that begs for mail to be delivered promptly and on time, bringing happiness and security to everypony, knowing that things like the mail can be counted upon. Derpy was not on time. But that was okay. Her smile was infectious and nopony could ever stay upset for long over late mail. She trotted down the lane, not bothering to fly, stuffing random mail into random mailboxes, sort of hoping that everything would sort itself out, like it usually did. She smiled and nodded at the ponies that she passed, her eyes merry and bright. And pointing in two different directions. Derpy paused, hearing screams. She stood there, wondering for a moment if she had done something wrong again, and she stood ready to defend herself with her usual catchphrase that was so adorable and cute that nopony could ever hope to stay angry with her for any length of time. Three almost ponies were charging down the lane. They had pony bodies, but from where the neck and head should be, there was something else. Something off. Derpy had no idea what they were, but, being the unflappably polite pegasus mare that she was, she smiled at them warmly and waited. The three strange creatures collided with her, hugging her warmly, tugging at her wings, squeezing her neck, and planting wet kisses all over her face and neck with their weird flat faces and odd protruding noses. Derpy giggled, as she found this quite pleasant. One of them had wings, like a pegasus. Derpy was thrilled. Love and affection without reservation was just what the pegasus had always wanted. The strange foals tackled her, pressing in on her, loving and smooshing her. And she hugged and smooshed and smooched back, reveling in the sudden surprise affection, huggles coming from every which way. “Uh oh!” One cried, dark blue, her voice alarmed. “They’re on to us! Scram!” She shouted. And Derpy was left lying there, covered in slobber, feeling very much loved and appreciated, enjoying what had to be the greatest moment in her life. She was going to have to go home and tell Dinky all about this over a muffin. With chocolate milk. **Scene dissolve** “Come back here you rapscallions!” Buttermilk shouted, hovering in the air, hoping to catch the foals. “She just called us a vegetable!” Cafe Mocha said. “All you ever think of are vegetables!” Bon Mot said. “I like vegetables.” Cafe Mocha said. “I like dragging my plot over the carpet and leaving skidmarks for Doctor Broadneck to examine!” Betelgeuse shouted. “Ack!” Rhubarb said, remembering all the time spent cleaning carpets. “Come back girls! We’ll have ice cream!” Ponies stampeded in a panic, the odd monstrosities spooking the herd. The hideous mutant foals thoroughly unnerving the pony population and precipitating a panic. There were shrieks and cries, the sounds of doors slamming, window shutters shutting, and hundreds of ponies all trying to run away. “Think we’ll be in trouble for this?” Cafe Mocha asked Bon Mot. “Naw.” Bon Mot said, running from an irate Buttermilk. “Whatever it was you did when you twitched your ears was awesome Bon Mot.” Betelgeuse said, her wings flapping. “Oh dear, enigmatic exposition.” The doctor announced, running. “Luna!” The three centaur foals shouted together. Ahead of them stood Luna, looking somewhat peeved, surrounded by dozens of guards. “Let’s huggle her!” Bon Mot said, working up a fresh batch of drool. Luna stood her ground as all around her guard shouted and dispersed, screaming, joining the stampeding masses. She shook her head, looking somewhat sad. “Cowards.” She said, scowling, standing her ground. These were just foals. Luna fell under their loving assault, tumbling to the ground, falling over, covered in giggling foals. Drooling slobbering foals. Fear gripped Luna as she realised what was about to happen. “NO!” She cried, seeing Betelgeuse stick a finger in her mouth, moistening her digit. Suddenly, Luna felt herself being probed. It started with a gentle prod, a poking sensation, testing resistance. And then it was inside after a moment of struggle. She shuddered, feeling the wiggling wet digit finding its way in, deeper, deeper, and deeper still, the gross moistness of it violating her to her very core, being probed by an alien mutant hybrid, in public, on the streets of Canterlot. Her flesh crawled. The finger was sunk in completely now, feeling damp, the tip moving in a slow circle, caressing her insides. She felt every knuckle. It was a sensation that would give Luna nightmares for the rest of her impossibly long life. Discord, in all of his evil, had not managed to violate her in this way. Luna felt that she would never be whole again. She had been violated, thoroughly and completely, every fibre of her being recoiling in horror and realisation of where that finger was and what was being done to her as it wiggled about, invading her insides. “THERE’S A WET FINGER IN MY EAR!” Luna shouted as the foals continued their assault. “OH MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP!” The foul foals continued their loving assault, kissing the princess, hugging her neck, little fingers gripping her pelt, and Betelgeuse giving her a wet willy with one slobbery finger. Buttermilk and Rhubarb could only look on in horror, as Doctor Broadneck took notes about the reactions of alicorns to aural probing.