//------------------------------// // Prophecy, Plan, and Personas // Story: In Character // by Grayshift //------------------------------// In Character By Grayshift Ponies belong to Hasbro but stupid ideas are for everyone. In the basement recesses of the Canterlot Royal Archives an epic and familiar war was being fought. “Back, ye devil bunnies!” bellowed Lorem Ipsum, Master Archivist. His battleground for the day was the Sixth Unnecessary Wing (because there were more than two) and he had the upper hoof. His tireless broom and remorseless dustpan decimated the encroaching forces of decay, his sinister featherduster and cruel polish a scourge upon their flank. He sang the ancient pegasi war hymns and oral poems of Equestrian history as he worked to keep them fresh in his mind. The light cavalry of his brush encountered heavy resistance as he pursued a retreating battalion of grime under a shelf. “Oh ho! A secret encampment of ye blaggards, I'll get a promotion for th-- good grief!” No enemy was this but a prisoner of war, an ancient and tattered book that had long been forgotten or presumed missing in action. The conflict forgotten, Lorem blew on the cover to learn the poor soldier's name. “Prophecies of Importance, by Neighstradamus. Hoofwritten in an ancient Equestrian dialect,” he mused with rising excitement and carried the mildewed tome to a reading table. With the gentlest touch he pried the cover open and began to translate the crabbed and faded script. An hour later and with all the speed his old bones could muster he was frantically boarding the first vehicle anywhere to Ponyville. “All right Twilight, we're all here, you wanna tell us what this is about?” drawled Applejack with clear impatience. Pinkie Pie had arrived after leaving work early, bringing the total number of ponies in the library to seven: the six friends and an old, parchment yellow unicorn with a book for a cutie mark. He had yet to introduce himself, feverishly absorbed in a dilapidated volume, and Twilight had refused to answer questions until everypony had arrived. “Mr. Ipsum,” prompted Twilight, tapping Lorem's shoulder gently, “tell the others what you told me.” “Oh! Oh, yes, yes... of course.” The shaky stallion wiped his brow, forcing an uneasy smile. “It's bad news I'm sorry to say. Just today I discovered this book you see here: Prophecies of Importance, by Neighstradamus. One passage concerns the bearers of the Elements of Harmony.” He cleared his throat to recite. “Three days before the thousand and third Summer Sun Celebration the bearers of the Elements of Harmony shall be corrupted by spirits of evil. In time they shall be redeemed.” He looked over the stunned faces. “Well, it's not all bad news. Apparently you get better!” Rainbow Dash was the first to respond, her ire rising along with her body as she drifted toward the ceiling. “That's it?! Nothing about how to prevent it? That's a load of bunk! There's no way any of us would turn evil!” “It does seem a drastically unlikely proposition, Mr. Ipsum,” chimed in Rarity. “Perhaps it's a joke in bad taste?” “You mean like putting hot sauce on ice cream? Because I tried that once and it actually wasn't that bad but I got reallllllly sick later but that was okay because it meant I could eat more!” babbled Pinkie, earning a few stares. Twilight tried to reorient the conversation. “I wouldn't discount Neighstradamus, Rarity. According to Prophets Through the Ages he's the only known case of anypony predicting what their cutie mark would be before they got one. Granted that he got his cutie mark in prognostication seconds later, but he's a verified source. Remember that it was a prophecy of Nightmare Moon's return that brought me to Ponyville in the first place.” Somber silence filled the library for a few moments. A bashful voice asked the inevitable. “What do we do? The thousand and third Summer Sun Celebration is being held in Las Pegas this year and that's in five days.” Fluttershy trembled gently as she spoke. Twilight's answer was grim and resolute, “We'll have to warn the town.” She swallowed. “About us.” The next day Twilight stepped down from the podium and away from the crowd's anxious faces, resuming her position by Lorem Ipsum's side on the backstage. Mayor Mare awoke from a concerned reverie and retook the platform. Lorem leaned down to comment in her ear, “They're taking the news rather better than I expected.” The mayor addressed the audience. “While this is shocking and grave news for our community I hope we will all band together and show our support for our town's great pride, the bearers of harmony!” Hushed chatter broke out among the assembled population of Ponyville. A few scattered hoofstamps against the ground quickly died out. “This sort of thing happens all the time in this town for some reason. I'm positive that everypony has complete confidence in us and that this won't get out of hoof,” whispered Twilight back with brittle brightness. She and Lorem made their way off stage as the mayor continued. “And once they turn evil we can best show our support by opposing them to our dying breaths! In related news the Ponyville Insurance Company has asked me to share that they are currently all out of town and are not accepting new clients at this time.” “Let's go back to the library. Maybe the book has some clue about what we're about to be fighting,” said Twilight. Lorem scrunched his wrinkled muzzle in frustration at the thought of trawling through the Prophecies again but had no counterargument. The mayor’s closing comments chased after them. “As a final reminder for anypony who wishes to have a living will notarized, my office will be open during regular hours tomorrow.” “Complete confidence.” The day of the prophecy had come and a plague of cabin fever had beset the library. Twilight had erected every barrier, protective incantation and ward against evil she knew in preparation. The entire tree fairly glowed in the dusk light. Inside, ponies were bouncing off the walls. Pinkie had defaulted to her own natural defenses as well. Glossy black streamers had been hung in the library and a hastily constructed banner read “Happy Going Evil Day!!!!!” She was having no luck in interesting Applejack in various balloon animal minions. For everypony else not absorbed in a manic cycle the day had been nerve-wracking. Rainbow Dash ached to fly in the open air and spun lazy laps near the ceiling. Confronting fell terrors from beyond sounded exciting but being late was not cool. The other pegasus had taken refuge in a blanket under the ravaged party buffet table, engaged in a fitful rest. Rarity lounged on the stairs, a forlorn and empty sketchpad by her side. She remained skeptical of the doom that had been pronounced upon their heads but Lorem and Twilight were getting on each others’ nerves enough without adding her own comments to the mix. The stress of withholding her doubtful concerns had banished any chance of inspiration striking in the oppressive, magically charged air. The two unicorn scholars had poured over the tome all day at the buffet table, their low conversation frequently peaking with jabbed hooves and sour admissions. Academic instincts dominated as they shot each others’ theories down like skeet, trying to draw even the most tenuous connections to the other prophecies contained in the book. So far they had clearly had no luck. Rarity had had enough. Regally interceding into the crossfire of another hot moment between Lorem and Twilight she hovered a hoof over the dingy and speckled page holding the slim paragraph that spelled out their future. “This is the one, is it?” Twilight and Lorem nodded in unison, releasing held breaths. “What’s this at the edge of the page?” Lorem’s eyes flicked to the book for only a moment before returning to his staring contest with Twilight. “It says ‘I wouldn’t mind a muffin about now.’ He wrote notes to himself in the margins.” “If Mr. Ipsum is to be believed,” intoned Twilight icily, “the entire book is about as helpful. The prophecy above ours is about laundry. The prediction below it is how many coins will be tossed into the Canterlot fountains! Who writes stuff like that?!” “Did somepony say muffins!” The library door opened to no great trepidation to the occupants. No horror from the stars had ever announced itself with muffins. A gray pegasus trotted in, grinning around the handle of a hefty basket, packed with treats. “Sugar,” admonished Applejack even as her nose and eyes drifted to the basket, “we warned the whole town to stay away tonight. It ain’t safe right now.” “Oh, I won’t stay long. I just thought maybe muffins would help.” The bubble branded mare smiled back at the looks she was getting. “What? Stranger things have happened,” she added defensively. She thumped the weighty basket down by the book. Directly over Fluttershy’s head. Under the table, Fluttershy jerked out of sleep with a shriek and shot straight up, only mildly inconvenienced by the heavy oak planks above her. Plastered to the ceiling she began breathlessly pleading to the air in a tiny voice that she wasn’t evil yet, didn’t want to be evil! The book and basket of bakery went ballistic, leaving trails of dust and crumbs. The rising edge of the table caught Twilight under the chin and sent her sprawling backward, temporarily rendered as wall-eyed as their guest. Lorem missed being cracked by the table by inches but tumbled back all the same. “The book!” he hollered! “The muffins!” wailed the mailmare! “The knives!” shrieked Applejack as cutlery and plates began to crash and embed themselves in the wood around her. Rainbow Dash sighed. Rescuing the snacks and a book wasn't a horrible demon to defeat but it would have to do. With a burst of her wings she rocketed into the parabolic mess. Five seconds later Pinkie Pie returned from the kitchen to a scene of devastation. Rarity was tending to Twilight’s bloody nose. Rainbow Dash stood cocksure in the center of the room, a pristine basket of muffins in one hoof and a tawdry book in the other; attached to her leg was a worshipful gray pegasus. Fluttershy was still on the ceiling, babbling silently and staring at nothing. The table had crashlanded upside down next to Applejack, who was trying to pry out the fork that had pinned her hat to the wall. An errant pastry had collapsed on Lorem's face. “If you guys are gonna take the party to the next level at least wait for everypony to be there!” huffed Pinkie as she spun and marched back into the kitchen. A short cleanup later and Twilight’s library looked respectable once again. They had seen the bearer of muffins off with quiet sighs of relief. Lorem chewed on his food and thoughts, flipping back and forth through the book once more. He paused. He stared. He began laughing so hard he nearly choked on his muffin. Aware of the stares he was getting but helpless to stop, he held up a hoof to stop Applejack from patting his back anymore before she killed him. Wheezing, he spun the book around so that the mares could see what was so funny. The dense twisting language remained as incomprehensible as before but Twilight wore a puzzled frown. Tears shone in his eyes as he explained. “You have more to thank your friend with the delightful eyes for than muffins. The prophecy is a mistranslation, this dialect is extremely finicky. That little incident must have shaken some dirt off. Let me tell you what it really says.” He cleared his throat. “Three days before the thousand and third Summer Sun Celebration the bearers of the Elements of Harmony will enjoy muffins. They will wash them down with milk.” Everypony’s eyes swiveled to the half full basket that stood as a silent accusation. Lorem slammed the book shut triumphantly, hoof scraping against the cover and revealing a word hidden by a smudge. “Neighstradamus’s Prophecies of Little Importance,” he sighed. “I suppose that’s why nopony has ever heard of it before now.” Fluttershy asked tremulously, “So we’re not going evil?” Rainbow Dash glowered at the chortling scholar. “I dunno, I think I feel a little evil coming on right about now...” “Oh no!” gasped Fluttershy, gripping the hovering Dash’s hind hooves. “Stay good, Rainbow, stay good!” “I’m... I’m joking, Flutters. You can let go.” Lorem continued to smile, radiating relief and chagrin in equal measure. “I’m so, so sorry to have misled you fine young mares. Can you forgive me? I should have done some proper restoration work on the book before rushing here but with the prophecy deadline so close...” “Ah shoot, you were jus’ trying to help us, Mr. Ipsum. I do thank ya for wanting to stay with us even when we were s’posed to be turned evil tonight. Apology accepted.” Applejack shook hooves with Lorem. “Applejack is right, it was an honest mistake. I’m just glad it’s over!” said Twilight. As Lorem Ipsum boarded the late night train back to Canterlot, Prophecies of Little Importance stowed safe in a saddlebag, he couldn’t help but laugh. The dust had scored a decisive victory but he would yet win the war! It wasn’t over. The afternoon of the Summer Sun Celebration had arrived. The past three days since the false prophecy had been a merry hell for the six friends. By unspoken agreement they gathered on a hilltop far from Ponyville’s own modest festivities and the pleasant air and blue skies were not soothing any tempers. “It ain’t right!” hawed Applejack. “Past two days I woke up and found Apple Bloom watchin’ me while I slept with a baseball bat! I asked her what she was doin’ and she said Granny gave it to her.” “I know what you mean, dearie. The spa has barred their doors against me and the Boutique is deserted. This simply cannot go on!” said Rarity. “We did tell everypony that the prophecy was just a mistranslation. I’m sure they’ll come around in time,” Twilight said doubtfully. The memory of a certain zebra paraded through her mind. “Oh, so you’ve had visitors to the library since then?” jabbed Rarity. “Well... no,” admitted Twilight. Pinkie Pie had been hit the hardest of the six. Accustomed to spreading cheer or at least puzzlement through the population, finding mistrust and suspicion on every face but her closest friends had devastated her. Party withdrawal syndrome was not pretty to watch. Fluttershy, too, was suffering. Her animal friends had stuck by her side but in dealing with ponies she had regressed to levels Twilight hadn’t seen since shortly after she’d met the yellow pegasus. Rainbow Dash was having other problems. “They’re letting me win! Every time I set up a race they just let me win!” Fluttershy gave up trying to tempt Angel Bunny with a carrot. “Um... don’t you always win anyway?” “Well, yeah, but that’s because I’m the fastest and not because once I have a decent lead they turn around and fly the other way. And they’ve taken me off the weather team for scheduling reasons,” she scornfully punctuated with wing quotes. “I don’t even have a schedule!” Applejack snorted derisively. “Seems t’me that we’d’ve been better off if that prophecy had been true and got it over an’ done with. My own brother won’t even talk to me no more, just says ‘eeyup’ and ‘eenope!’” Twilight looked up from a daydream of crafting a proper schedule for Dash. “That may not be such a bad idea. What if we could make the prophecy come true?” Dash scratched behind an ear. “We already ate the muffins, Twilight. There are no more muffins. I don’t think all of us drank milk but does it really matter?” “I mean the original prophecy. What if we were to pretend to have gone evil and then get redeemed? Then the town wouldn’t be suspicious of us anymore.” Doubtful looks were passed around. Twilight pressed her point, “Or do you want to go back and just wait for things to blow over?” Everypony had to confess that they did not. Very shortly thereafter they had A Plan. Just think of it as a... a fashion show, Rarity thought to herself. But tonight’s show might well turn out to be the strangest of a career that had already included several interesting nights. She was tired, very tired, but didn’t feel it. When inspiration struck it could not be stopped and all night and day she had been a whirlwind of needles, scissors and cloth. Then there had been the makeovers in the morning. So much of this plan depended on her skill at making this look real as possible and she had done her best in designing outfits and personas for her friends. Anyway, eye bags probably enhance my costume, she concluded. She picked up the microphone; it was time to start. For the fourth time in a week the population of Ponyville had gathered. Content with a Summer Sun Celebration that had gone off without a hitch despite the dire rumors circulating about the local celebrities they now gathered around the stage once more. “Gracious mares and gentlecolts of Ponyville!” came the amplified voice of Rarity over the PA system. “Allow me to introduce...” “Your new overlords!” Twilight hit the spotlights, searing a path for the first revelation of the evening. “You once knew her as Ponyville’s premiere party pony, but is she still so sweet? You’d have to be as crazy as she is to want to find out! Introducing the Pink Witch, Discord’s own disciple, Chaos Incarnate Pinkie P-- oh sweet sunlight, what is she wear--” Backstage, Twilight disabled the sound system while Rarity composed herself. Pinkie leapt into the spotlight, grinning before the astonished stares. Rarity’s subtle arts had given Pinkie’s boundless smile a terrifying aspect. An application of caramel dye had stained her teeth to a jaundiced yellow, further enhanced by a lightly traced network of fine fracture lines. A single contact lens had turned a bright blue eye just as dangerously amber. Pinkie’s untamed hair was streaked with deeper crimson swirls and contained within a quilted shawl, clasped in front with a wooden carving of Discord’s head. Her dress was as chaotic and piecemeal as the shawl, stitched together from a scrap of everything that had been available in Rarity’s workshop. The riot of colors, fabrics and shapes was hemmed by a mismatched collection of tassels and bells that added jarring noise to her every movement. What had sent Rarity into conniptions was an unplanned addition of Pinkie’s own devising. Framing the tainted and broken grin was a fuzzy pink goatee. “Who’s ready to party with Pinkie?” she cajoled. No matter how cheerful and genuine her tone her wide and leering smile bespoke of deep seated madness. The front line of the crowd tried to back away as she swept it over them, stroking the beard mischievously. The spotlight over Pinkie dimmed mercifully though her toothsome grin continued to radiate unease through the gloom. Another light sparked to life, stabbing into the sky. Rarity’s voice thrummed from the speakers once more. “Pegasi of Ponyville, hold your breath for the air you breathe is no longer your own! Her whims are weather, and whether you weather her whims will depend on whether you work your withers to weariness for Stormlord Rainbow Dash!“ Rarity gasped for a breath of her own after the mammoth string of Ws. The cone of light painted an exaggerated silhouette of the hovering figure against the low hanging sky. Harsh illumination cast sharp contrast on the folds of the white toga ensemble and the displeased furrow of her brow, but most astonishing was her billowing cloak of swirling black cloud. It rippled with a life of its own as she descended. A corona of St. Elmer’s fire (so named because it stuck to things) backlit her chromatic mane in a glorious halo, crackling along the repurposed laurel from her Grand Galloping Gala dress. Alighting on the stage she stamped a forehoof down with a peal of thunder and a wave of ozone. Head raised with an imperious snort, she challenged the crowd. “You want some of this, huh?!” She reached back into the fold of her cloak and thrust forward, a bolt of lightning streaking over the heads of the masses from her outstretched hoof and impacting against the side of a house. The scorch marks hissed. This cloak Twilight had created was so cool that she was having the hardest time keeping up the ferocious scowl. The second spotlight dwindled though the storming cape continued to outline the cyan pegasus’s form with silver light. Rarity gave herself one last check in a mirror before lifting the microphone and sauntering out onto the darkened stage, voice low and throaty. “Mares and... gentlecolts,” she purred, savoring the words. Soft underlighting welled up. “Welcome to the underworld of fashion, for I am vampire mistress Rarity!” All black silk, white flesh, glinting fangs and hungry gaze, Rarity strode to the very forefront of the stage, the artfully torn and ragged train of her simple and slinky black dress drifting behind her. It was not something she would have ever considered wearing in public before now but these were not usual circumstances. Her lips quirked into the barest hint of a come-hither smile, revealing the gleaming fangs further still. She turned back to take her spot in the lineup with a pause to glance back, licking her deep crimson lips. A graceful kick to reorient her dress's train flashed a moonlight pale hind leg and sent a wave of cloying perfume over the audience. She noted with satisfaction that more than a few stallions were picking up their jaws. The microphone hovered where she had left it. “And now... are you ready for some magic, mares and stallions?” The pale lighting faltered and died, leaving the stage dark. Twilight would provide her own. The shimmering jingle of magic filled the air as Twilight teleported onto the stage, blazing in the darkness. Flowing bands and streamers of deep maroon and purple danced in the air around her and her eyes cast radiance over the crowd like searchlights. Above her shining horn sat a twisted imitation of the tiara of the Element of Magic, but the gem was dead and black. A high collared cape littered with stars billowed around her, almost unnoticeable behind the pyrotechnics. Twilight’s voice boomed in true Royal Canterlot style. “I am Twilight Queen!” The rolling echoes died away over the petrified citizens. Rarity swept her mane back into place with a practiced motion. “And now, the last member of our cadre: silent and inescapable, our very own Pale Horse, Fluttershy, the Avatar of Death!” Heavy hoofsteps approached, each one brimming with the finality of a mausoleum door slammed shut. Fluttershy took the stage. I wonder if I perhaps overdid it a bit, mused Rarity, running her tongue over the plastic fangs Pinkie had located. Fluttershy’s outfit was by far the most elaborate. The only part of the pegasus actually showing was her eyes, face hidden behind a skull mask. The rest of her was shrouded in thick, layered robes of immaculate black. Underneath, platform horseshoes gave her the ringing hoofsteps and imposing height required of the Reaper. Even her wings had been concealed, sheathed in skeletal covers that bristled with stiff sable feathers. Fluttershy’s labored approach took her to the front of the stage. She had been coached for this moment and assured that her role would require no actual speaking. Towering over the audience she took a deep breath and stared. Nopony dared move for a solid half minute under that mortifying gaze. Rarity was forced to interrupt the frozen time, sweeping in front of Fluttershy and blocking the stare with the back of her head. “Well, Ponyville? Aren’t we just glorious now?” she teased. A suspiciously familiar voice called out from the crowd. “Ain’t y’all supposed to have six ponies?” “Well, we tried to, honestly, but Applejack was just a little too purehearted to join us,” Rarity laughed with subtle mockery. “Pinkie, why don’t you go get her?” Pinkie rolled back on stage with a wheelbarrow, eliciting a shocked gasp from the crowd. In it stood a life sized crystalline statue of distinct orange, adorned with a Stetson and three apples on the flank. Earlier that day... “Oh, Applejack, I have the most marvelous idea for your persona! We’ll make you the Titan of Earth, I know just how to give your coat this wonderful cracked ground texture that will play perfectly with your coloration, and--” “Rarity, I can’t do it.” Applejack hung her head. “Whatever do you mean? You don’t think the plan will work?” Rarity lifted Applejack’s head with a hoof, meeting her eyes worriedly. “No, it’s a good plan, ah jus’ can’t do that sort of thing. It ain’t right.” She tried to smile. “Element of Honesty and all that. I’m sorry. I just can’t even pretend to be a big ol’ meanie to my friends even if it’s for my friends.” Rarity rested back on her haunches. “No dear, it’s all right. We should have seen this coming. I think I can see a way to make it work. We might need an... assistant for some of our roles, or someone who will be able to interact with the town without scaring everypony away, do you think you can do that? We’ll dye your coat, paint an extra apple or two on your flank, you turn on that Manehatten accent and no one will recognize you.” Applyjack nodded gratefully and the two ponies embraced. “Thanks hun. I didn’t want to spoil yer fun. I’m happy to help with the plan that way.” Fluttershy had been listening. “Um... c-can I...” Rarity rounded on the pegasus. “I’ve already finished your costume, Fluttershy. One pony absent is quite enough! You’ll barely have to do a thing, trust me.” Fluttershy sighed and tried not to look at the intimidating costume Rarity had designed for her. Returning to Applejack, Rarity rubbed her chin as she plotted. “I think Pinkie can provide your stand in...” “Heeeeeere’s Applejack!” Pinkie’s grin was further distorted through the facets of the crystal pony as she thumped the wheelbarrow down. Horror shone in the eyes and played rampant in the minds of Ponyville’s citizens. The closeness of the six friends was nearly byword. Anything that could turn them on each other was monstrous. “The rules are quite simple!” Rarity was speaking again, pacing with exaggerated slowness back and forth, left and right across the stage. “You all just do what we say until we’re vanquished. We haven’t forgotten that little prophecy spells out our defeat as well. But while we’re here we intend to enjoy it! Does anypony care to try right now? Beat us and restore dear Applejack, hmm?” Rarity’s taunts were not answered. Pinkie’s mad smile. Dash’s boiling cloak. Twilight’s glimmering aura. Rarity’s hungry fangs. Fluttershy’s motionless vigil. Applejack’s frozen form. Every eye in the crowd danced between them and found no hint of the mares they once knew. Nopony dared. Vampire mistress Rarity almost sounded disappointed that they would go unchallenged this night. “Well then... dismiss our faithful subjects, Twilight.” Twilight inhaled a massive lungful of air. “Begonnnnne!” Gale winds and growling echoes rebounded over the crowd. Dash threw blazing bolts into the sky, the thunder punctuating the full force of Twilight’s magically amplified Royal Canterlot Voice. Pinkie’s hysterical cackling rang out over the shockwave while Rarity advanced down the front of the stage, fangs bared. Fluttershy’s grim shadow loomed. The crowd broke and ran, stampeding away in blind panic. In thirty seconds the amphitheater basin was empty save for a tiny voice coming from somewhere low in the rising dust. “Buckin’ ow, you could have warned me...” Applejack staggered toward the stage. Her coat had been dyed a bright shade of red that was now obscured by a multitude of hoofprints, including one across her face. She would have a black eye soon. “I didn’t think they’d panic quite so readily,” apologized Twilight. She let the magic streamers fade into nothingness. Awkward silence fell. Rarity coughed. “I suppose the charade continues. Remember the plan, everypony: antagonize but don’t overdo it.” “I’ll be stayin’ at the Boutique fer the duration, so if ya need anythi-- Pinkie, stop chewing on my statue!” Applejack shooed Pinkie away from the crystal pony, wiping away traces of slobber with her fetlock. “We’d have a devil of a time explaining things if ya break it.” “I just don’t get it! I was sure it was gonna taste like apples, even though it’s only rock sugar!” She shot an accusatory glare at Applejack. “Why don’t you taste like apples?! What aren’t you telling us!?” Pinkie made a flying leap at her fellow earth pony. Rarity rolled her eyes and turned away from the brief scuffle. “Well... goodnight, everypony. I really should be getting back to my, aha, coffin, before the sun rises.” She spotted Fluttershy, who hadn't moved an inch since the stampede. “Are you all right, dear?” A muffled whimper was the response. Twilight rounded Fluttershy to look her in the face. “What was that?” “Can’t... move... Too... heavy...” mumbled Fluttershy in her tiniest of voices. “Oh my... I definitely overdid her costume a bit. Twilight, lift her into the cart, please? Back to the Boutique for some modifications before anypony notices Death riding around in a wheelbarrow.” With some final farewells the new masters of Ponyville went their separate ways. Tomorrow would be an interesting day.