//------------------------------// // Stable Goat // Story: Equestria Girls: The Looking Glass World of Cheese and Pie // by scoots2 //------------------------------// Rarity and Fluttershy carefully made their way down the neat new bleachers at the Cloudsdale Prep stadium. Most of the crowd was jubilant, but the two friends said nothing and did not look at each other until they reached the ground level. Rarity broke the silence. “The weather was simply perfect this afternoon! I could not have asked for a better opportunity to show off my fabulous new chapeau. Did I mention that I blocked and trimmed it myself?” Fluttershy sighed. “Rainbow is going to be very unhappy,” she lamented. “She really wanted to win this game.” “Rainbow Dash always wants to win every game,” Rarity pointed out, adjusting her hat slightly as she caught a glimpse of herself in a chrome surface. She smiled at a boy wearing a Cloudsdale jacket, and he smiled back, turning his head so that he bumped into the friend walking just in front of him. “Cloudsdale is different, though,” insisted Fluttershy, “and Rainbow really wanted to win against Lightning Dust.” She added something inaudible. Rarity stopped walking, so that Fluttershy was forced to stop walking, too. “What was that, Fluttershy?” “I really hate being back here,” Fluttershy repeated, looking down and blinking while she twisted her fingers. “Truly?” said Rarity, putting an arm around Fluttershy and steering her off the field so that they could wait for Rainbow Dash. “I had no idea it was that bad.” They sat at the end of the bottom row of bleachers, not far from the locker rooms. “Oh, I wouldn’t call it bad, exactly. It’s just . . . Cloudsdale Prep tradition. You have to be strong, and you have to be a winner. That’s why sports are everything here. See?” Fluttershy continued, swinging her head to indicate the grand gate leading to the stadium, with “Cloudasseum” written in brilliantly colored letters. “You’re a winner, or you’re weak, and if you’re weak, it’s your own fault. You’re nobody. You shouldn’t even exist. I was nobody,” she lamented. “I’m nobody.” Rarity gasped. “Says the honors student who volunteers at the animal shelter! Fluttershy, you are very far from being nobody.” “Thanks,” Fluttershy said, her lips trembling. “But that’s not really true, Rarity. They think it’s an honor even being weeded out from Cloudsdale. If you have a weak spot, they’ll find it. I felt weak because of gym. Snowflake felt weak because school is hard for him. It was horrible for both of us. Rainbow’s strong, and she’s a winner, but she’s different. When she has to choose between winning and her friends, she chooses her friends. And I guess,” she said, smiling for the first time since they’d arrived at the stadium, “she decided I was her friend, and I was happy. I really wanted her to win, especially against Dusty. I don’t like Dusty,” she finished, the smile fading from her face. “Is she really that terrible?” asked Rarity. “Worse than Sunset Shimmer?” “In a way,” admitted Fluttershy, murmuring so low that Rarity could scarcely hear what she was saying. “Sunset was scary, and she still scares me. She was a bully, and you could tell she had something awful inside. But Dusty—she just makes you feel bad. She can find anyone’s weak spot. She can hit you deep down, where it really hurts.” Rarity’s lip curled in disgust. “Oh, Dusty’s not a bad person,” Fluttershy hastened to add. “She’s just very—Cloudsdale. Rainbow and Dusty were almost friends. They both like winning, and they liked competing because it’s more fun to beat someone good.” “Cloudsdale Prep sounds like a dreadful place,” Rarity said, and sniffed. The boy she had smiled at earlier had been following at a discreet distance and waiting for a chance to say something, but on hearing this, he sighed, turned around, and caught up to his friends. “I want my designs to win, and I would have liked to have been Spring Princess, too, but there is such a thing as being a gracious winner.” “And then,” Fluttershy crossed her arms, pulling them close to her chest, “I don’t know what happened. Maybe Dusty thought she wasn’t winning enough . . .” Rarity put her arm around Fluttershy agains and hugged her. “You don’t have to talk about it, darling, whatever it was. Maybe you shouldn’t have come.” Fluttershy pulled away. “No, no. It wasn’t exactly Dusty’s fault, but she found Rainbow’s weak spot, too. So I wanted to come, and I wanted to see Rainbow win.” She sighed and dropped her gaze to the ground. “Too bad.” Rainbow Dash and the Wondercolts, splattered with mud, slowly made their way towards them. Everyone’s posture screamed humiliation and defeat. Dash finally came to a halt and beckoned her team closer. “Admit it,” she begged. “I blew chunks out there.” The members of the Wondercolts team all silently shook their heads. “C’mon!” she snapped. “I stunk on ice! I missed easy goals! I made stupid calls! I dragged our team’s name into the garbage! Soarin,” she said in a much nicer tone, smiling widely and spreading her arms, “go ahead. Admit it. That was the most pathetic thing you’ve ever seen.” “No,” said Soarin. “Dangit, Soarin!” she barked, frowning, dropping her arms, and stepping closer, so that they were almost toe-to-toe. “I am your team captain, and I order you to tell me I stunk on ice!” “No!” he shot back. Dash’s whole body sagged. “And I just failed at that, too,” she said. “Can’t get my own team to follow orders. Fine. Hit the showers, guys. Try to pretend this never happened.” The team straggled their way towards the showers. “Nice hat, Rarity,” remarked Rainbow Dash. “Perfect for Rainbow Dash Fails All The Things Day.” “You did your best,” murmured Fluttershy. “No, I didn’t,” Dash snarled. “Don’t try to make me feel better. That,” she said, kicking a divot back onto the field, “was nowhere near my best, and besides, who cares? I didn’t win. We didn’t win. I hate losing.” She bent over, her palms on her knees, and then looked up as though she’d suddenly remembered something. “Hey, where’s Pinkie?” she asked. “I didn’t hear her. I can usually hear her screaming and yelling her head off.” Rarity and Fluttershy looked at each other, as though they expected that the other might have an answer. Finally Rarity said, “I don’t know. I suppose I thought she was coming with Applejack.” “Me too,” agreed Fluttershy. “I stopped by the animal rescue on my way here, but I would have picked her up if she’d needed me to.” “I haven’t seen either Pinkie or Applejack,” Rarity said. “They must be together.” Applejack ran up to them, puffing and almost breathless. “Sorry I’m late, y’all. Did I miss anything?” Rainbow Dash snorted. “Depends on what you mean. You missed an epic fail, I’ll tell you that. Where’s Pinkie? We all thought she was coming with you.” Applejack pulled off her hat and twisted it around in her hands. “She’s . . .uh. . . she’s probably home by now.” Rainbow Dash furrowed her brows. “What do you mean, she’s probably home by now? Where was she?” Applejack shifted from foot to foot, her eyes anywhere but meeting Rainbow Dash’s. “Where’s Pinkie?” Rainbow Dash insisted. “Well,” said Applejack, hesitating, “actually, last I saw her, she was in the hospital. There was an accident.” “What?” yelped Rainbow Dash, and Rarity and Fluttershy gasped, jumping to their feet. “What kind of accident?” Every word from Applejack came reluctantly, as if dragged out of her. “She fell,” she admitted. “Out of the ceiling grid at the gym. She had a concussion. But the doctor said she was going to be fine,” she hastened to add. Rainbow Dash grabbed Applejack by the arms, just above the elbows, and practically shook her. “Are you kidding me?” she exclaimed. “Pinkie doesn’t get hurt like that. She does crazy stuff, and I’ve practically never seen her get hurt!” She released Applejack, pushing her away, and began to pace in a tight circle. “And when she does get hurt, she bounces right back. If she’s in the hospital, she’s got to be hurt really badly! Why didn’t someone tell me? I saw her just last night—she was whipping all around the grid like it was nothing! Her . . . and Cheese.” She froze. “Applejack,” she asked, her voice level and face neutral, “where’s Cheese?” “He’s . . . um. . . last I saw, he seemed fine,” Applejack replied. She directed her gaze to the sky, lips clenched tightly. “Oh,” said Rainbow Dash. She was speaking in the same quiet tone, but her body was tense; her fists were balled and planted on her hips. She was standing in a puddle, but seemed completely unaware of it. “How nice for him. Pinkie nearly bashes her brains out, and he hasn’t got a scratch. I don’t suppose he thought to give anyone the keys I lent them, or did he lose them, too?” “Now, don’t you fret, RD,” Applejack said. She stepped forward as though she were about to pat Dash’s shoulder, and then dropped her hand, clearly thinking better of it. “The keys aren’t lost. Vice Principal Luna took ‘em when the paramedics came.” She slapped her hands across her mouth. Rainbow Dash stood in the puddle for a few moments, opening and closing her mouth, apparently unable to speak. Then she stepped forward, an ugly red spreading up her neck and face, clenching and unclenching her fists. “Vice Principal Luna?” she spluttered. “Pinkie in the hospital? Paramedics? WHAT?” she snapped, as she whirled around to face the three people who had just joined them. Lightning Dust stood there with two of her Cloudsdale teammates, freshly showered, and in clean light green and yellow tracksuits. “I just wanted to say, ‘good game,’” she said. “Probably not a great time to say so, but your team gave us a real run for our money.” “Really impressive,” lisped a girl whose blond hair was nearly white, her eyes focused beyond Rainbow Dash to where Soarin was jogging up behind her. Rainbow Dash took a deep breath or two, blowing out the exhales, and then said with a twisted smile, “What you mean is that I single-handedly blew the game, but I’m glad you got to see how awesome my team really is. I told you so, didn’t I? Anyway,” she said, with another deep breath, “yeah. Good game.” She stretched out her right hand and Lightning Dust shook it. “Good game,” agreed the other girl. “It’s great to see you back at Cloudsdale again.” Her eyes flicked to where Fluttershy was standing. Fluttershy dropped her eyes and said nothing, and Dusty didn’t seem inclined to recognize her further. “I’m surprised not to see your cheerleader.” Rainbow Dash greeted this with a puzzled frown. “What are you talking about? Our cheerleaders were here.” Dusty shook her head. “I mean your personal cheerleader. We all went to lunch together. Can’t remember her name. Pink hair. I thought she came to all your games. Unless she had more auditions or something.” Rainbow Dash took another deep breath, but this time her exhale was more shaky. “Pinkie Pie couldn’t be here. She had an accident. She’s hurt.” “Oh, I’m sorry,” said Dusty. “Well, tell her from me that I hope she gets better soon.” “Yeah,” said Rainbow Dash, drooping her head. Dusty and her teammates walked away. Just before they were out of earshot, the four friends and Soarin heard Dusty murmur “stable goat” to Fleetfoot, who giggled. Dash’s head snapped back up. “Did she just call Pinkie a goat? A goat? Hey,” she shouted, “did you just call my friend a goat? You want to come back over here and say that to my face? Huh? A goat? Did you call Pinkie a goat?” Her fists were balling up again and her elbows flexed, and she started to race forward towards Lightning Dust. Fluttershy shrieked, “DASHIE, NO!” and ran towards her. Soarin stepped in front of Dash, so that she slammed into him. He said “oof!” but refused to move, blocking every attempt to get past him. “Dashie, no,” repeated Fluttershy, and after a few more exhortations on her part and Soarin’s determined blocking, Dash gave up. “It’s not funny,” she growled. “Pinkie getting hurt isn’t funny.” She squeezed her eyes shut a few times. “I don’t care what anyone says. It’s not normal. It’s someone’s fault.” Applejack stepped forward and put a restraining hand on Dash’s shoulder. “Honey, it was an accident. It’s no one’s fault. That’s what an accident is.” “Oh, yeah?” Dash snapped, shaking Applejack’s hand off. “Well, Pinkie got hurt, and someone’s responsible. I am going to rip whoever hurt her limb from limb, and I’m going to enjoy it. And where the heck was Cheese, anyway?” Fluttershy coughed. “I just tried calling him,” she said softly. “It said the number’s not in service.” “I’ll just bet it isn’t. How convenient,” snarled Dash, and stormed off to the showers. ~~ “I think both of you know why you’re here,” said the vice principal. “Explain.” Vice Principal Luna’s office bore witness to the fact that she was the one primarily responsible for discipline at Canterlot High. It certainly wasn’t intended to reassure any of the miscreants called to appear before her. Its primary decoration consisted of a painting of a nighttime landscape with an imposing, almost threatening full moon, beneath which was placed a vase of artificial white lilies. Filing cabinets on each wall were filled with the disciplinary records of every student currently in attendance. A pale circular desk bore little but the equipment for the school P.A. system, and a brass plate with VICE PRINCIPAL LUNA—THE BIT STOPS HERE. Some of the wall decorations, however, hinted at a lighter-hearted element of the occupant’s character. Trophies in the shape of the balls used in various sports were placed on the cabinets. Prize ribbons for games and sports were in frames on the walls, as were photographs of triumphant CHS teams. Many of the most recent of these included Rainbow Dash. The blinds were drawn, blocking out most of the brilliant May sunshine. The sole guest chair was intentionally low, forcing the sitter into an inferior position. As there was only one chair, Rainbow Dash and Cheese Sandwich were forced to stand. The vice principal pulled two folders from a drawer and placed them on her desk. Both were turned so that the names were not easily legible. One was of a moderate size, containing some pages with the green and gold of Cloudsdale Prep. The other was the size of a small city phone book, and bulged with sub-folders, documents in the colored stationery of a half a dozen different schools, and red bookmarks. “Well?” the vice principal prodded. “I found two students in the gym at midnight this Friday, surrounded by structural damage. One of them narrowly escaped very serious injury. I also found this.” She held up a set of keys with Rainbow Dash’s key fob still attached. “I’d like to know how this happened.” Cheese kept his gaze fixed straight ahead. Rainbow Dash glared at him. “I’ll start, ma’am. I was in the gym on Friday afternoon. Pinkie and Cheese were wiring up the grid with stuff for the Cake Festival, and I was trying to unwind and get ready for the game on Saturday. They ran out of time, and Pinkie said she’d like to keep going, and I needed to get home.” “And?” prompted Vice Principal Luna. “And they wanted the keys. Actually, I offered to let them have the keys,” Dash admitted. “I wasn’t thrilled about it, but Pinkie said it was their last chance to get everything done. I told them to be careful. The next thing I knew, it was Saturday and we lost, and Applejack came running up to me, telling me that Pinkie was in the hospital. That’s really everything I know.” “Um,” Cheese interrupted, “Pinkie wanted to keep going, but I was the one who suggested leaving and coming back later. Rainbow Dash wasn’t going to be able to be there then, so it was probably my fault that—” “And why exactly did you want to leave and come back later?” the vice principal asked. Cheese was silent for a moment. “In order to break my curfew. I’m not permitted to be out after 5 pm. I had to sneak out of the house.” “So in addition to being here after hours, you were also disobeying your aunt. Is that correct?” “Yes.” “Whatever,” snorted Rainbow Dash, rolling her eyes. “I take full responsibility, ma’am.” Vice Principal Luna nodded. “Good,” she said. “Unfortunately, your actions have shown that you aren’t quite responsible enough. You are certainly not responsible enough to have these keys, and they will not be returned to you. The alarm code will be reset. Here is the fob.” She removed the lightning bolt chain and placed it on the desk. Rainbow Dash took it and said, “Thank you, ma’am, I—” “I am not finished. You are also removed from your position as captain of the soccer team.” “But ma’am!” “And you are barred from participation in any team sports for the rest of the school year.” “But we could still make the playoffs! And they can’t without me!” “Participation in school activities is a privilege, not a right, Miss Dash. It can be withdrawn when appropriate, and here I think it is. Believe me,” she added grimly, “I am almost as sorry about it as you are. You may return to class now.” Rainbow Dash stood there for a moment, shaking and taking a few deep breaths before she spoke. “Yes, ma’am,” she said, picked up her backpack, and slipped out the door, but not before shooting Cheese a look of pure hatred. “And now,” continued the vice principal, pulling the large file folder towards her and flipping through it, “we come to you, Mr. Sandwich. Your file makes for some very interesting reading, as I’m sure you know.” “Yes,” he murmured. The vice principal put on her reading glasses. “Transcripts from five different schools, records from several institutions—hmmm,” she said, frowning, “a bit more than I’d expect to see in a strictly academic file. Usually those are limited to health records. We’ve drawn up an Individual Education Plan, and there are quite a lot of instructions from your parents. Let’s see . . . restrictions on non-academic activities, especially those having to do with party planning, entertainment, music, and the performing arts; permission granted to order full psychiatric evaluations; even referrals to a number of specialists who have evaluated you in the past.” She closed the file, removed her glasses, and looked Cheese full in the eye. “I could, of course, recommend a psychiatric evaluation if necessary.” Cheese made a sound of agreement that wasn’t quite a word, and dropped his head. “But I’m not convinced that it is necessary,” she continued. “To me, it seems to be more a disciplinary matter than a medical one. As a disciplinary matter, it is very serious. Fortunately, we’ve established that breaking and entering wasn’t involved. You certainly did trespass, however, and your actions may have contributed to damage to school property and the injury of a fellow student, so there is also the question of minor criminal charges.” Cheese simply nodded, eyes on the floor, but he went very pale. “I can’t bar you from participating in the Cake Festival,” she said, rising from her chair. “That’s up to your aunt, not to me. I am referring the psychiatric and legal questions to my sister, who will consult the relevant authorities. You are suspended, on site, until further notice. You will report to my office one half hour before the school day begins and be dismissed one half hour after the school day ends, in order to limit your contact with other students. Is that clear?” “ . . . yes,” Cheese said. “I’m very discouraged to see the same problems throughout your record recurring here. It’s a vicious circle.” Cheese nodded again, then looked up. “Vice Principal Luna?” “Yes?” “Just—whatever happens, please give me something to do,” he begged. “I don’t even care what it is. Give me something to do until you decide what you’re going to do with me.” “You’re not in a position to make conditions, Mr. Sandwich. However, I’ll consider it,” she said, withdrawing a set of keys from her desk drawer. “Now, if you’ll follow me, please. Bring your belongings, as I’m afraid that according to school regulations, we’re required to lock you in.” Cheese picked up his backpack. “I’m tired of this,” he said. “I don’t even care anymore. I just want this to be over.” “That’s entirely possible,” Vice Principal Luna said, and led the way out of her office. ~~ “And then Soarin completely freaked out,” Dash complained, as she made bread pellets and bounced them against the side of her glass. “All I did was say, ‘congratulations, you’re now team captain for the rest of the season. Try not to screw it up.’” It hadn’t taken long for the story of last Friday’s accident, or some version of it, to spread throughout CHS. It would have been impossible not to notice that Pinkie was absent: without her energy and infectious giggles, Canterlot High was a much quieter place, and the knowledge that she’d been hurt left the entire school subdued, even depressed. Even the addition of the humiliating defeat to Cloudsdale Prep on Saturday couldn’t begin to account for the general gloom, which only fed pessimism about the accident and Pinkie’s condition. Rumor had it that she was in an intensive care unit, or even that she’d been transferred to a specialist hospital. Her injuries were wildly exaggerated, despite Applejack’s determined repetition that Pinkie had been discharged the next day, and was now resting at home, recovering from a concussion. “And if they aren’t gonna believe me,” she said in exasperation, “who are they gonna believe? I’m her cousin, for heaven’s sake, and it’s not like my nose grows from lying all the time.” Rarity, Rainbow Dash, and Fluttershy had all stopped in to see Pinkie for brief visits. Although she was lying down and resting in a darkened room, they’d seen for themselves that she was getting better quickly. She was very bored, and confused about some things; she didn’t remember the accident or its aftermath at all; but there was no doubt that she was going to make a full recovery. There was no clear consensus about Cheese. The students had come to like Pinkie’s tall, skinny, amusing shadow, so that a whisper campaign that he had somehow harmed Pinkie on purpose gained no traction. The idea was openly scoffed at by the Great and Powerful Trixie, for, as she pointed out, would Vice Principal Luna allow a violent student to remain on school grounds? “The public is so gullible,” she said, and sniffed. Bizarre events no one could explain had begun to happen: the P.A. system interrupting Principal Celestia’s morning announcement with knock-knock jokes, snakes in a can appearing in domestic science class, and Mr. Doodle’s desk playing “I’m a Yankee Doodle Dandy” every time he opened a drawer. Every time something like this occurred, there were involuntary snorts of laughter, until someone remembered Pinkie and decided that laughter was inappropriate, and then the whole cycle would start all over again. “Oh, for crying out loud, Rainbow,” said Applejack, rolling her eyes, “the world doesn’t revolve around you and that soccer team.” “Yeah, it does,” insisted Rainbow Dash. “Ok, maybe it doesn’t, but the point is that I’m off the team and Pinkie’s hurt and this is all someone’s fault, and maybe if it weren’t for Cheese, none of this would have happened.” “I’m sure that’s not true,” Fluttershy said, throwing her shoulders back. “I know him a lot better than you do, Rainbow. We study together every week. He’s very nice, even to pickled animals, although I wish we could stop using those, and I’m sure he wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to Pinkie. I walked by the classroom Vice Principal Luna put him in, and he looks so bored and frustrated. It’s sad to see him locked up someplace too small for him. It reminds me of that movie about killer whales.” Applejack shook her head. “Fluttershy, only you would think of Cheese Sandwich as a killer whale.” “Well, he should have done more to keep Pinkie from getting hurt,” snapped Dash. “He did,” said Applejack, and then slapped her hand over her mouth. She sighed. “Listen, RD, I was there. Trust me, if it weren’t for Cheese, Pinkie would’ve been hurt a lot more than what she was.” “Oh, yeah?” said Dash, leaning her foot against the table and pushing, so that her chair teetered back. “How?” “It’s not my story to tell,” said Applejack, folding her arms. “I don’t know. I’m sure he tried to help and he means well and all, but . . . maybe it’s not all that great for him and Pinkie to spend too much time together. They set each other off. He makes her a lot worse, y’know? He’s suspended, she’s home sick—I say, let sleeping dogs lie. Best if they weren’t friends, probably.” “How can you say that?” fumed Fluttershy. “He’s our friend! He’s my friend, anyway, and I thought he was yours, too. I thought we all learned our lessons about not just dropping your friends when bad things happen. We’re supposed to be giving Sunset a second chance, and she turned into a big scary mean demon monster, and you want to just drop Cheese because he’s in trouble?” “Are you sure he’s not dropping us?” said Rainbow Dash. “Has he returned even one of your calls?” “No,” admitted Fluttershy, lowering her eyes. “But I’m sure there’s a good reason. Don’t you think so, Rarity?” Rarity took a sip of sparkling water. “Have any of you considered that no one is organizing the Cake Festival now? Both the organizer and her assistant are unable to perform their duties, and no one knows when or if they will be able to resume them. What will happen to the Cake Festival?” She put down her glass and looked at each of them in turn. “A considerable amount of time and money have been invested. Cancellation at this point would have repercussions for every business involved, and it might well be disastrous for the Cakes. Prim is already concerned. I did not like to mention it before, because compared to Pinkie’s injury, it seemed too trivial.” She glanced at Rainbow Dash, who glared back. “It seems to me that the best way we can help Pinkie would be to step in and do her work while she and Cheese are unable to continue.” Applejack leaned her cheek on her fist. “Guess that’s so. The festival was important enough to Pinkie that she and Cheese were up till midnight working, and that’s how she got hurt. Wouldn’t be right for it to come to nothing if it’s that important to her.” “Cheese knew he could be in big trouble, too,” insisted Fluttershy, “and now he is, and I think it’s only fair to help them out.” They all looked at Rainbow Dash. To everyone’s surprise, she nodded immediately. “It’s important to Pinkie,” she said, banging her fist on the table. “That’s good enough for me.” “Then it’s settled,” said Rarity. “This afternoon, we will call on the Cakes and ask what needs to be done. The boutique is frantically busy, but I shall make the time.” Rainbow Dash shrugged. “I’ve been kicked off the team,” she said bitterly. “What else have I got to do?” “Pinkie’s kin,” Applejack said. Fluttershy coughed. “We do have final exams soon.” Judging from their expressions, everyone had forgotten this. She continued, “But I think I can manage, and I’ll help any of you if you need it.” Rarity nodded. “We will all manage.” She held out her hand, and the rest placed theirs over hers. “We’ll get it done together,” she said, and as they dropped their hands, she added, “and if not, that is what little sisters are for.” ~~ “It’s official,” groaned Rainbow Dash, holding her head in her hands. “I fail at life.” The Canterlot Comets had gone down to humiliating and unexpected defeat against the Dream Valley Dazzlers, and Rainbow Dash was still trying to accept it. “The Dazzlers? Seriously? They’re at the bottom of the league! How could this happen?” she exclaimed, windmilling her arms. “It’s a nice day,” Fluttershy pointed out, but this didn’t seem to cheer Dash up. She slapped her baseball cap down on the ground, ran her fingers through her multi-colored hair, and groaned louder. It was, in fact, a very nice day. The parents of the Little Leaguers playing the game had brought picnics to Luna Park and made a day of it. To their credit, none of them had begun the booing or yelling that happened at some Little League games. The Canterlot side of the risers had simply grown quieter as the Dazzlers ratcheted up run after run. “What happened?” Dash wondered, turning to Fluttershy and clutching her arm. “I don’t know,” she replied. “I don’t know anything about sports. I think the Comets all look good. But, um—that’s just my opinion,” she said. “I could be wrong.” She sipped her smoothie. “They are good!” insisted Dash, spreading her arms wide. “They’re great kids. They’re a great team. They’re the best.” She shook her head. “I blew it. Again. I blew it as a coach, and this time I ruined it for the kids. I shouldn’t have put First Base in as pitcher so soon. I should have put Archer batting fourth, not first. I could put Scootaloo anywhere and the kid would shine in any position, and I still had her playing the wrong position somehow! I should have . . .” “Um, hi, Rainbow Dash,” said Scootaloo. She’d come up unnoticed from somewhere while Dash was in full lament. Now she stood in front of Rainbow Dash, with First Base at her side. Both of them stared up at Dash, eyes aglow. “Do you really think I’d shine anywhere, Rainbow Dash?” said Scootaloo, bouncing on her toes. Dash looked down at her and tugged her cap. “Yep,” she said, smiling. “You’re awesome.” “Yes!” yelled Scootaloo, jumping straight up in the air and pumping her fist. “Just like you! You heard her, Base. I’m awesome.” First Base stuck his tongue out at her. “I hate to break it to you guys,” said Rainbow Dash, “but in case you didn’t notice, we lost.” “Aw, that’s ok,” said First Base. “My brother Flash always says everybody’s gotta be a loser sometimes. Plus, we learned a lesson, too.” “What?” said Rainbow Dash, picking up her cap and slapping it against her leg to knock off the dirt. “That even the best team can lose if they’re got a bad coach?” First Base and Scootaloo stared at each other, then laughed. “No!” said Scootaloo. “That even if you lose or come in second, you can be all kinds of awesome anyway.” She held up her fist for a fist bump. Rainbow Dash bumped fists with her. “You’re the best, squirt,” she said. Scootaloo and First Base ran off, and Dash watched them go. “Say it,” she droned in a flat monotone. “Just go ahead and say it, Fluttershy.” “What do you want me to say, Rainbow?” asked Fluttershy, and drew loudly on her smoothie. “That I’ve got an ego the size of a blimp. That I depend on constant rah-rah cheering and admiration, and if I don’t get it, I’m an incompetent jerk. That I’m blaming Cheese because I don’t want to think any of this is my fault.” She glared at Fluttershy. “You can stop me any time, y’know.” Fluttershy shook her head. “No, that’s ok,” she said. “I think you’re doing just fine.” Rainbow Dash looked down at the dirt, digging a hole with her shoe. She burst out, “I should have been there for Pinkie. I should have stayed and maybe helped them out, or at least waited until they were done. Or,” she muttered, “I never should have given Pinkie the keys in the first place.” Fluttershy said nothing, but simply gave Dash a look full in the eyes. “Which was why Vice Principal Luna kicked me off the team, because that was wrong, and I deserved it. I get it. I get it, Fluttershy!” she snapped. “You don’t have to rub it in.” She picked up her backpack, and they began to walk towards Fluttershy’s car. “Do you think it’s true what AJ said?” she said, as they strolled through the parking lot. “That Cheese kept Pinkie from being more hurt than she was?” “Applejack doesn’t lie, so yes,” Fluttershy said, and nodded. “I think it’s true.” Rainbow Dash kicked a soda can. “It should have been me,” she muttered. “I should have been the one. Maybe I could have kept Pinkie from getting hurt at all.” Fluttershy stopped walking, turned to Dash, and put her hand on her shoulder. “What do you think you could have done more or better than Cheese to keep that from happening?” she said gently. “I don’t know!” Dash shouted. “I don’t even know what he did!” Fluttershy had removed her hand and walked away. “Uh, hey, Fluttershy,” Dash said casually, as she jogged to catch up to her friend, “did you ever get through to Cheese?” “No,” said Fluttershy, shaking her head. “I stopped trying.” Seeing Dash’s confused expression, she explained, “The last time I walked by the room Cheese is in, he was surrounded by lots and lots of paper and he was writing. I guess Vice Principal Luna gave him some homework. Anyway, he saw me, scribbled something on a piece of paper and held it up. It said, ‘Grounded. No phone. Sorry.’ And then there were a bunch of numbers and letters, and I tried to remember them and copy them down, but I don’t know what they mean. Anyway, Cheese doesn’t have a phone, and he probably doesn’t have a laptop, either, and he’s grounded. Applejack won’t tell you what happened, and Pinkie doesn’t remember. Do you really want to know? Because I want to see how Cheese is doing.” “Yes,” said Rainbow Dash. “Phew, your car smells,” she added, as she slipped into the passenger seat. “How are you going to do that?” “There’s really only one way, isn’t there?” said Fluttershy, as they pulled out of the parking lot. ~~ “You’re kidding me,” said Rainbow Dash, as they stood in front of Cheese’s aunt’s house. “That place looks like it’s missing its Nightmare Night decorations.” “It’s really a very nice old-fashioned house,” Fluttershy replied. “The widow’s walk is a cute little touch.” She swallowed. The house still looked far from welcoming. The blinds were drawn, and there were no lights on inside. The only indication that anyone was at home issued from a third story window, where someone was playing an extremely slow and mournful version of “Roll Out The Barrels.” The player kept sticking on the phrase about having the blues on the run; he was making mistakes, stopping, going back, and trying again, over and over. “Well,” said Fluttershy, her voice quavering, “I have to try.” She took a deep breath, tucked a book under her arm, walked up the stairs, and rang the doorbell. Rainbow Dash watched in astonishment as her friend talked to the unsmiling older lady who answered the front door. Fluttershy spoke to her for a few moments, the lady closed the door, and Fluttershy returned to the car. She leaned on it, trembling, and took a few more deep breaths, then pushed herself up. “I told Cheese’s Aunt Mela that he’d left behind his textbook. I could tell she knew I was lying. She said that if Cheese had left it at school through his own carelessness, it was his own fault, and he could get it on Monday. I asked if I could see him, and she said no; she said he was grounded and that there was no point in calling. And here I am.” Rainbow Dash spluttered for a moment, and said, “‘Shy, did you just walk up to that house—that house—and talk to a total stranger?” Fluttershy looked up with a shaky smile. “Yes,” she said. “And . . . and I think I’m okay to drive now.” She opened the driver’s side door and got in. Rainbow Dash ran around to the passenger’s side and got in, too. “I think that’s got to be one of the bravest things you’ve ever done, ‘Shy,” she said, eyes wide with wonder. “I’m amazed.” “Good,” said Fluttershy, as she turned the key in the ignition. “Then you won’t mind helping me break Cheese out of that room on Monday.” ~~