Chapter 6: The Secret Talents of the Those Stallions Part 2
After the judges had rendered their opinions on Bulk's poetry—a seven from Rarity, a ten from a misty-eyed Fancy Pants, and a lemon-drop cupcake from Pinkie—Mister Cake once more took the stage.
The crowd was still in stunned silence from the performance given. To see a pony like Bulk perform such as he did, with the mastery he showed was just beyond what anypony seemed to be able to comprehend. Most ponies would have found Filthy Rich giving up his fortune or the Apples giving up farming more believable than this display.
"Next up, we have Prince Blueblood!” Carrot announced before turning to Rarity, “Rarity, I don’t want to see anything thrown this time, understand?” Rarity gave a grunt. There was scattered clapping as the prince came out.
Still clad in his tuxedo, Blueblood came trotting onto the stage as if he had been given a warm welcome by the mares there, but there were only a few that had even given him a benefit of applause. He gave a bow here and there as he tossed his perfect mane back and forth.
“Thank you! Thank you for the wonderful applause!” Blueblood said, even though there was very little of it. “Tonight, I shall be showing you what a prince is truly made of. Sure, we are seen to be handsome, rich, and altogether the best catch a mare could ever hope for, but as a prince we have enemies,” Blueblood took a few steps closer to the edge of the stage. “And the mark of a true prince is being able to defend himself from any attack and to lead if called upon." At this, Blueblood's horn started to glow gold, and a golden rapier appeared in front of him.
"Now, I need a volunteer for this little endeavor, but there is only one stallion who might be as skilled as I am." Blueblood turned towards the judges, pointing his sword right at Fancy Pants. “Lord Fancy Pants, I challenge thee to a duel!” Blueblood exclaimed. Murmurs started to spread through the crowd as ponies looked from the prince to the lord. Others simply gasped at the challenged proposed, holding their breath to see what the answer might be.
Fancy Pants looked at Blueblood’s sword then up at the pony in question, his face looking like he had just eaten something foul. “How dare you challenge me, of all ponies, to a duel,” Fancy Pants spat, taking his monocle off with his magic and cleaning it with a handkerchief. “There is no point in a duel with you. Now, I suggest you choose a different talent, prince, before my opinion of you falls even further.”
Blueblood only have a light chuckle as he slashed the air in front of him with his golden sword before it disappeared. “If you wish Lord Fancy Pants, but here I thought you were a gentlecolt, but I was mistaken.”
“Beg pardon?”
“Everypony in Canterlot knows that Lord Fancy Pants is the gentlecolt that all gentlecolts try to be like. It turns out he is no better than a commoner. A true gentlecolt never refuses a challenge of a duel, especially one of royal blood. Alas, this was a mistake.” Blueblood sighed as he took his time to walk off stage. “How you are able to get the attention of Fleur De Lis is beyond me.” Blueblood muttered, but loud enough to be heard. As he did, a sound, much like that of a lightning strike, drowned him out.
Fancy Pants had jumped from his seat and was now standing in front of the judge’s table with his own rapier floating in front of him. His eyes were set on Blueblood with such a rage that the prince took a half step backwards, before he grinned and brought his sword back out and took a step forward.
“I will teach you to mind yourself, Prince Blueblood. You might be the nephew of Princess Celestia, but your manners are no better than that of a Diamond Dog!” Fancy Pants started to walk towards the right, as Blueblood walked to the left.
“Fancy!” Rarity cried. “What are you doing?!”
Fancy Pants’ blade sliced through the air. “I am aiding a contestant in showcasing his talent,” he said calmly. “And at the same time, teaching a young upstart to mind his elders.”
Rarity gnashed her teeth, then looked past the two stallions to Mister Cake across the stage. “Well, don’t just stand there! Do something!”
“Rarity, I have a family. I’m not going anywhere near two unicorns throwing swords around!” With that, Mister Cake dove offstage.
The crowd watched on in mute awe, unable to take their eyes off of the blossoming duel as the two ponies began to circle one another like sharks. Fancy Pants leveled a smouldering gaze at Blueblood. “I am giving you one chance to rescind what you said, before I teach you some proper manners.”
The air around the wooden stage seemed to grow colder as if to reflect the harshness of Fancy Pants’ tone. Pinkie Pie leaned forward, a bowl of popcorn in her hooves from somewhere, her blue eyes shimmering as she watched the pair. Rarity on the other hoof looked almost petrified for what was about to happen. Fear ran through her body as her ice blue eyes moved back and forth from Blueblood to Fancy Pants.
“Is that so, Lord Fancy Pants?” Blueblood laughed, giving his sword a small flourish as the pair circled. “I do believe that I am the one giving you a lesson in manners since you did refuse this duel in the first place, so don’t get too uppity, old man.”
Fancy Pants growled upon hearing these words. His eyes focused on Blueblood as if his stare alone would make the narcissistic stallion drop dead. “We shall keep this civil. Let’s just have our sword’s magic stun one another if hit, and not kill.” Blueblood was grinning like a cat who had just caught it’s prey and was now playing with it before the feast.
The two were circling one another, their swords at the ready. One wore the face of anger and disgust, while the other had an amused grin on their face. The crowd watched on, murmuring to one another, their eyes followed them as they walked around one another in a perfect circle, keeping the same distance apart and their hooves falling in perfect symmetry.
Then, at some unknown signal, both stallions lunged forward with a shout of “En garde!”
Then, in a movement that was so small yet so fast, sparks of blue and yellow burst into the air as the two swords clashed with one another. The blades interlocked with an electric hiss as both duelists pushed with all their might.
Fancy Pants stumbled backwards, then lunged back towards his opponent with a growl. Blueblood pushed back, sweat was running down his face as he tried to hold his ground. Before Blueblood could take a full step, Fancy surged forward, sending Blueblood and his blade backwards. With his opponent open, Fancy took a step forward with his blade pointed at Blueblood’s chest and lunged for a killing blow.
Before the blade could make contact, Blueblood recovered and performed a well executed parry. Sparks danced once more as the blades met, leaving Fancy open for an attack. Blueblood made a lunge for Fancy’s chest, but the older pony took a side step just in time to avoid the blade.
As the pair circled one another, cheers erupted from the crowd for the brief yet dramatic display of swordsmanship. It was unclear who the cheers were for at this point, but it didn’t seem to matter, for the show had to go on.
“I am impressed, Lord Fancy Pants. Not too many ponies have managed to avoid my parry before,” Blueblood commented, his blade pointed right at Fancy Pants. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say you are legitimately angry with me.”
“Oh, I am not mad at you, Prince Blueblood; I am absolutely livid!” Fancy Pants stomped his hoof on the ground. The sudden noise made Blueblood flinch. That half-second was all the time Fancy Pants needed.
Fancy Pants did a forward lunge, quickly covering the distance between them faster than Blueblood would have liked. Sheer muscle memory was all that saved Blueblood from a final strike. Fancy Pants refused to let up. He pressed his assault, pushing Blueblood stage right as sparks of green flew. Blueblood was completely on the defensive as Fancy rained down upon him, his sword movements so fast that Blueblood could not perform another parry in time to deflect and attack back.
“With all that pompous talk—” another strike, sparks filled the air as Fancy’s blade crossed with Blueblood’s—“about being a real gentlecolt and challenges—” green sparks rained down everywhere one could see, as bolts of magical energy started to clash—“amounts to nothing, doesn’t it Prince? You really thought you could master me in a duel? Did you intend to bore me into defeat?” Another clash, and the two stallions pushed their blades against one another with all their might as the sparks grew stronger and more wild.
“No,” Blueblood replied, a smile cross his lips as he looked at Fancy Pants, an air of defiance in his voice. “I was thinking of more of luring you into a false security, beating you with ease, and then humiliating you a bit more.” With that, Blueblood gave one strong shove with his blade, pushing Fancy Pants off balance. Blueblood then made a cut at Fancy Pants that the older stallion was just barely able to avoid, but a bit of his mustache was cut off.
With strength seemingly from nowhere, Blueblood lunged at Fancy Pants, his rapier at the ready and striking at the gentlecolt repeatedly. Blueblood had become the aggressor and Fancy was on the defensive this time, seeming to have more difficulty than Blueblood had just a few short seconds ago.
Soon Blueblood was backing Fancy Pants all the way back to the judges’ table where the last two remaining judges sat. Rarity’s face didn’t seem to be able to decided to be amazed by this show of skill, or to be completely horrified as she watched the two blades collide over and over. Pinkie Pie had donned a pair of sunglasses and was happily munching on popcorn.
“You fight well for such a old stallion,” Blueblood remarked as the two locked blades again. His face was completely calm, his ice blue eyes seeming to be at ease as he gave his mane a light flick. Fancy Pants, on the other hoof, had beads of sweat running down his face and fear in his eyes. “But not as good as the teachers who trained me!” At that, Blueblood gave a final flick of his blade that pushed Fancy Pant’s blade skyward and delivered a hard stab to Fancy’s chest.
The crowd cried out, shielding their eyes from the brilliant flash of gold. Fancy Pants gave a cry of pain and sank to the ground fell, tiny fingers of golden magic arcing across his body as he gave a few low moans of pain. He had been defeated. Blueblood only nodded to his fallen combatant before facing the crowd, and gave a deep bow.
After a few moments of stunned silence, the crowd erupted in cheers. Blueblood seemed to drink it in, giving a large bow and dispelling his blade before turning to the judges. At the sight of Rarity’s shocked gaze, his grin only widened.
“Oh that was super duper cool! I give him a double fudge cupcake!” Pinkie exclaimed, holding up a picture of said dessert. “Can I get the two of you to perform at the twins’ next birthday party? That would look so cool! Oh, maybe have a few cannons go off here and there, maybe even–”
“Well, I for one am appalled by it,” Rarity announced, cutting off Pinkie Pie as her horn glowed, helping Fancy Pants up. “I find what he has done very uncultured and brutish. Forcing Lord Fancy Pants into such a battle is disgraceful.” Using her magic, she was able to return Fancy Pants back to his seat. “However, even though I found the reasons for the duel uncalled for, I must still admit that the Prince showed... exemplary skills. A six out of ten.”
Fancy Pants said nothing, but instead grunted as he tried to make himself comfortable in his seat, the sparks still crossing his body ever so often.
“My dear Lady Rarity, why would you find such a thing appalling? I thought you might have been used to watching two blades clash in front of you,” Blueblood laughed, a smug look on his face as he did so. “You just seem like the kind of mare.”
Rarity’s face turned bright red, out of pure anger or utter embarrassment, nopony could say. Her pearl white coat did nothing to hide it as she just stared right at Blueblood in stunned silence. Most of the crowd looked to one another, unsure what Blueblood had meant by the comment. Others seemed to have understood the comment all too well, some angrily shouting at the Prince while other snickered.
Blueblood did not seem to pay them any mind. He turned to walk offstage, but before he could take a single step, a jet black hoof slammed into his snout. Blueblood let out a shrill cry as he fell back to his haunches, a hoof reaching to to his already bleeding nose.
“You do not talk to a mare like that!” Thunderlane shouted as he hovered slightly above the stage, holding the hoof he had struck Blueblood in his free hoof. His golden eyes were filled with a rage as he glared down at Blueblood, as if he was getting ready to attack again.
This time, the crowd was single-minded in its reaction. Jeering laughs and whooping cheers echoed across the stage.
“Buck ya Thunderlane! If he didn’t do I sure as heck would have!” Rainbow Dash shouted, pumping her hooves in the air, cheering on the stallion. “You're getting first pics for jobs this week!” Fluttershy let out a small gasp as she watched Blueblood skid across stage, and taking a step backwards to hide behind Rainbow Dash.
“Did he really hit Blueblood?” Twilight gasped, as she looked up on stage at the injured prince. “I mean he was out of line, but to hit royalty! Has he lost it?”
“Hell, if he didn’t punch that sorry son of a goat Ah would have!” Applejack barked, as she gave out a whistle. “That colt is now on the free pies fer life list fer that!”
“Y-you dare strike me?! A Prince?!” Blueblood stumbled back to his hooves and felt the front of his face before flinching in pain. Looking down, he saw that his pedicured to perfection hoof was covered in his royal blood. “You... You... You peasants! I will tell my Auntie at once! I will have you imprisoned and—”
“I give Thunderlane a ten out of ten!” Fancy Pants shouted above the crowd. He held an icepack to his horn and his suit was slightly ruffled, but he still managed to look like the same distinguish gentlecolt as before.
Mister Cake, who had snuck back onstage, blinked hard.“Beg pardon?” His look of surprise was accompanied by many in the audience.
“This honorable stallion came to defend a lady’s honor of his own volition. Such valor is uncommon in this day and age, and it is to be commended. He did not think twice of the possible consequences of striking that of the Royal Family!” As these words left Fancy Pants’ lips, Thunderlane’s eyes went wide and his wings froze up as he fell to the stage with a loud thud.
“Con-consequences?” Thunderlane whimpered out.
“Indubitably, my good colt. Why, the last time a commoner struck a member of the Royal Family they were sentenced to death by hanging,” Fancy Pants said nonchalantly, apparently not noticing the color drain from Thunderlane’s face. “Of course, that was several hundred years ago. Still, the law is on the books. However, they did not have me to represent them in the courts.”
“I give him a Red Velvet cake! Because I think Thunderlane broke Blueblood’s nose!” Pinkie laughed happily, holding said cake up.
As Blueblood continued to seethe, Thunderlane turned his attention to Rarity, who was staring at him as if he was some kind exotic fabric.
“I... I-I don’t think I can give my opinion on this matter,” she started, a hoof held to her chest. “Thunderlane saved my life once before, and to now have him defending my honor, I... I don’t find that I can give an unbiased opinion on this. Thunderlane,” she paused for several moments, her blue eyes locking with Thunderlane’s gold, and both ponies felt a slight rush of heat to their faces, “thank you. I am sure Princess Celestia will understand what you did. And if she does not, I shall personally testify on your behalf.”
Thunderlane just grinned at her as he gave her a slight bow, and at once the crowd broke into momentus applause.
“Well, I think we can say Thunderlane has earned a top mark with our judges!” Carrot yelled as the applause continued. “Now, let’s get these two stallions over to Nurse Redheart. I am sure we want them in top form for our next event and the bidding.” As Carrot said this, Braeburn and Soarin both walked back on stage to help the two others back off stage, Braeburn having to hold a handkerchief to Blueblood’s bleeding nose.
“Up next let me reintroduce the first of our Royal Guard participants, Tweak!”
The stallion walked confidently onto the stage. Stripped of his barding, he was surprisingly thin, though one could still see toned muscle underneath his tan coat. He gave a polite nod to the applause. “Thank you, thank you! Well, I gotta be honest, I was kinda dreading this part of the competition. While I may be a stallion of many talents, most of them are either job specific or... heh, not suitable for public display.” He winked, earning a few hoots from the mares in the crowd. “But I think I have something really neat to show y’all. Might not be as, er, flashy, as Prince Blueblood’s, but I think you’ll dig it.
“Now, as some of you may know—” he shot a predatory grin towards the offstage wings, where Flash Sentry gave off a shudder—”I used to be a Drill Sergeant. Yes, those ponies in brown hats that yell at ponies.” A few moments passed while the crowd chuckled. “What most ponies don’t know is that the Guard actually teaches us how to yell properly. Anypony in this crowd ever had to shout at someone, and after a few minutes, your throat feels like ya got a parasprite clawing its way out? Well, I’m gonna teach y’all how to yell, scream, and shout without ripping your throat up.
“I am gonna need a volunteer for this one.” He scanned the front few rows of the crowd before his eyes settled on a greyish-blue pegasus mare. “How about you, with the bow?”
“M... me?”
“Yeah! Come on up here!” A wave of cheers went up as the mare gulped and then fluttered on stage. “Now, what’s your name?”
“Um, Flitter.”
“Okay, Flitter. Tell me, have you ever been in a long shouting match?”
Flitter giggled. “I have a twin sister.”
Tweak gave a low whistle. “So, that’s a big yes. Now, I’m gonna show you a real easy trick to use, so the next time y’all duke it out, you can have the last word. Sound good?” Flitter meekly nodded her head. “Alrighty then! Now, to start off, I want you to take a deep breath and yell as loud as you can.”
“What should I yell?”
“I don’t know. Think of the last time your sister pissed you off. What did you say to her?”
After a moment of thought, Flitter inhaled a deep breath, then bellowed, “Cloudchaser, stop borrowing my brush without asking!”
“Hmm, not bad, not bad,” Tweak said, nodding slowly, “but I think we can do better. Now, take a deep breath, but this time try and pull the air in towards your belly. Imagine your gut is a vacuum cleaner. Heh, basically pretend you’re a big ol’ fat-body for a minute.” He turned back to the crowd and smirked, earning a few more chuckles.
A whimper came from beside him. Tweak turned back to the mare, and blinked upon seeing her blubbering lips and misty eyes. “Uh... what?”
The floodgates opened. Flitter sobbed, tears now openly falling from her eyes, and ran off stage. Several ponies in the crowd gasped and murmured at each other. Tweak made to follow her, but was stopped as another pony slammed down in front of him: a mirror image of the weeping mare, save for her mane, which was teased up into spikes. “How dare you!”
“Uh...” Tweak looked the mare up and down for a moment, “who are you?”
The pegasus gave him a deadpan glare. “I’m the milkmare.”
“Buh?”
“I’m Cloudchaser, you dolt, and my sister suffers from an eating disorder, and it very sensitive about her weight!” She took a step towards him. “How dare you insult her like that!”
Tweak took a half-step back from the intimidating mare. “Look, I’m sorry! How was I supposed to know? It was just a turn of phrase!”
Cloudchaser scoffed. “I’m surprised a blockhead like you even knows how to turn a phrase.”
“Excuse me?!”
“You heard me! ‘Blockhead,’ as in your mane has four distinct corners!”
Now, Tweak stopped retreating and took a step towards the advancing mare. “My mane?! What about yours, looking like a damn Trotly Crüe reject! I wonder if there’s a can of hairspray left in this entire damn town!”
Cloudchaser gasped, shooting a seething glare at him. “My mane is all natural, you insensitive goosestepper!”
“Ha! Natural?!” He took yet another step forward. “What the hay do you use for a pillow? A rabid woodchuck, ya tarted-up hussy!”
From the judges table, Rarity cleared her throat. “Now, now. Let’s all just calm down for a min—”
Cloudchaser stomped forward. “You got a pretty big mouth, Twig-Legs! Step off before I stuff my hoof in it!”
“I’ll bet you know all about stuffing mouths!” Tweak growled, stepping closer. “In fact, maybe it’s you that needs to lay off the fatty cakes! You’re looking a bit doughy in the flanks, Two-Ton Tessie!”
“Miss Cloudchaser, Sergeant Tweak!” Mister Cake stepped back onto the stage to intervene. “Could you both please just—”
“My flanks are just fine,” Cloudchaser hissed, taking yet another step towards the glaring Tweak. “Better looking than your face, you knock-kneed know nothing!”
Tweak took one final step, bringing the two seething ponies snout-to-snout. “Stuff it, you sad sack of sheep dung!”
“Fancy-dressed fascist!”
“Overbearing donkey-lover!”
“Jerk!”
“Nag!”
“Dick!”
“Bitch!”
In the following weeks, it would become a point of high contention among the citizens of Ponyville as to who exactly moved first. All that could be agreed upon is that one moment the two ponies on stage were glaring pure hatred at each other, and the next their lips were locked in what was probably the most shameless makeout session ever to not result in an arrest for public indecency. Tongues wrestled and hooves wandered in places they probably shouldn’t wander anytime the sun was shining, the two ponies were now completely ignoring the cheering crowd in favor of the other’s mouth.
After several moments—when it became very clear that neither Cloudchaser nor Tweak intended to stop trying to taste the other’s stomach anytime soon—Mister Cake cleared his throat directly into the microphone. “Uh... th-thank you, Sergeant Tweak! That was—” A particularly loud moan from Tweak cut him off. “Um.. th-that—” Another lascivious groan from Coudchaser. “Okay, can somepony please help me out here?”
Macintosh emerged from the wings and took Tweak’s tail in his mouth, jerking the sergeant away from the mare. “Come on, loverboy.” At the same time, Thunderlane—still nursing his damaged hoof—took hold of Cloudchaser’s wing and tugged her away. Both ponies were still staring longingly at each other, hooves impotently reaching out for the other as they were dragged off stage.
Mister Cake retook center stage. "Well, that was, uh... interesting.” As the crowd laughed and hooted, he could still see Cloudchaser fighting several other mares to get back on stage, while on the other side he could hear the stallions in the back trying to hold back Tweak. “Now then, for our next talent, please welcome back to the stage, Flash Sentry!”
The orange pegasus slowly made his way on stage to scattered applauses, as most ponies were still watching the heated drama in the wings. Flash grinned nervously to the crowd as he pushed a very large amplifier onto the stage. A cherry red guitar was strapped across his back.
"Eep!" Rainbow Dash and Applejack both turned to Twilight. There was a light blush on her face, as she bit her bottom lip.
"You alright there? " Dash asked, looking up at Flash then at Twilight who was watching the stage very intently. Twilight, however, didn’t seem to be able to form any words as she looked up at the young Pegasus attaching a large cable to his guitar.
“I say, Corporal Sentry.” Fancy Pants, once more immaculately groomed thanks to Rarity, spoke up from the judges table. “I can’t help but notice you’re not playing with your wings. Are you, in fact, going to play earth pony style?”
“Yes, sir,” Flash replied.
Rarity looked between the two. “Forgive my ignorance, but what exactly is ‘earth pony style’?”
“Well, Miss Rarity,” Mister Cake said, “we earth ponies don’t have horns or wings to manipulate the strings of musical instruments, but our hooves are much more nimble than other pony’s, able to exert fine control over delicate areas.”
“That’s what she said! Ow!” Dash rubbed her head and glared at Applejack, who retracted her hoof.
“What? I was just givin’ you a little demonstration,” she said with a sly grin.
“Uh... quite.” Fancy Pants cleared his throat to recover some decorum. “Anyway, the point is that earth ponies play stringed instruments by using subtle changes in pressure exerted by their hoof. And if this young pegasus,” he nodded towards the blushing Flash, “can play that way, it is something to be admired.”
“Thank you, sir,” Flash said, nodding his head a bit. “My uncle taught me how to play, and he’s an earth pony, so it’s all I’ve ever really known.”
“Well, I for one, cannot wait to hear you, Corporal Sentry!” Rarity smiled at him. “Now, what shall you be playing for us?”
“Freebird!” a random voice in the crowd shouted.
“No!” replied nearly a dozen others.
Flash fidgeted a bit, adjusting the strap on the guitar. “Oh, it’s nothing, really. Just a little thirty-second or so solo I wrote.”
“Oh, neato-speedo!” Pinkie chirped.
“Actually, Pinkie, the swimsuit competition is next,” Rarity said with a cheeky grin, earning a few wolf-whistles from the crowd. “Now then, if you please, Flash?”
“Um… I hope you all enjoy this.” Flash said meekly. He took a deep breath to steady himself, then raised up onto his hind legs, cradling the guitar in his forehooves as his wings steadying him with tiny motions. A small metal clamp fastened to his right hoof held a guitar pick. He strummed a few chords, adjusting the knobs on the guitar’s face until he found the right tone. A heavy, distorted growl came from the amplifier. A look of deep concentration took over his face, and he began.
Flash dragged the pick across the fretboard with a hiss of distortion. A flurry of blistering notes followed as his right hoof rocked back and forth frantically, flying up and down the fretboard. His wings twitched and counterbalanced him as he rocked his body back and forth in time with the molten notes spewing from the amp.
A deep hush had fallen over the crowd, or at least any noise they made was instantly lost under the sonic assault coming from the large amplifier. Several of the older ponies were covering their ears, while a group of foals near the front watched on in slack-jawed rapture. Scootaloo in particular was all but gawking at the stallion.
Flash whipped his head back to clear his mane from his eyes. He kept his head skyward as he continued to slur out notes. Across from him, Pinkie had somehow procured a lighter and held it high, slowly waving it back and forth.
The sonic attack continued for several more seconds until finally Flash stopped strumming, instead slapping the whammy bar repeatedly, making the final note waver and ring. His blue mane bounced up and down as he banged his head in time with the hits to the guitar. Then, as quickly as he had started, it ended. That final note echoed across a sea of gobstopped ponies, their ears ringing and hearts pounding.
Once the note had finally stopped reverberating, a serene silence fell over the square until, at the very back of the crowd, a set of lavender wings flew skyward with an audible pomf.
Chaos ensued. Raucous cheers deafened all present as the ground positively shook under the weight of countless pounding hooves. Even the judges were beside themselves, whistling and applauding.
“Bravo! Bravo, I say!” Fancy Pants stood from his seat, a hoof raised to quell the roaring crowd. “Corporal Sentry, that was simply amazing! Though I will admit I am not a fan of the, er, ‘music’ you played, it would be criminal of me to not recognize the talent you have displayed. Nine out of ten!”
“Hear, hear,” Rarity said. “While a bit loud for my tastes, you displayed a mastery of your instrument that would make any professional musician envious. Why you chose to be a humble Guardspony is beyond me. Ten out of ten!”
Pinkie screamed, then leapt to her hooves. “You rocked it! You metaled it! You absolutely iron ferrited it! Red velvet cupcake with cream cheese frosting, dribbled with sprinkles and those little edible star thingies!”
The crowd roared once more as Flash, wearing an exceptionally large grin, took a deep bow. Far across the square, Applejack let out a low whistle. “Shoot, Twi, yer little boy toy sure knows how to make that guitar sing.”
Twilight, who had just managed to recall her wings to her sides, blushed deeper. “Applejack, that’s—”
“Ha! Sing nothing, AJ,” Rainbow said. “He bent that thing over the table and made it beg for mercy!”
Pomf!
“Rainbow,” Applejack glared at the sniggering pegasus, “that was just mean.”
Behind them in the Royal Box, Shining Armor’s jaw was hanging open shamelessly, his eyes wide and pupils dilated. Princess Cadance playfully nudged him. “Careful, honey. You’ll catch flies.”
At her touch, Shining snapped back to reality, shutting his mouth and scowling at the retreating pegasus on the stage. “It... wasn’t that good...”