//------------------------------// // Disneyland // Story: Ernest Saves Equestria // by Emerald Harp //------------------------------// Ernest closed his eyes and covered his face as he felt his body begin to teleport. To the human it felt like someone had strapped his brain to a roller coaster but didn’t bother to send the rest of him along for the ride. He was moving, and yet at the same time, he was standing still. Throughout this ordeal, he felt Apple Bloom’s powerful hoof on his shoulder and Rimshot coiled around his leg. And then as violently as the crazy ride started, it stopped. The Troll Fighter felt Apple Bloom let go of him at the same time his brain banged against his skull. Dazed and confused, the human took several steps, trying to get his bearings. He rubbed his eyes, “No, Vern. I don’t wanna ride the Vomit Comet again. Six times was enough,” he continued, stumbling around. While Sweetie Belle shook her head, Scootaloo stated, “We must be close to the Tree of Harmony and the Castle of the Two Sisters. See, the rope bridge is over there,” said the pegasus pointing. Ernest frowned. “So, what you’re really trying to say is . . . we’re in Disneyland?” The Crusaders did a simultaneous face-hoof. “Hey, where’s Rimshot?” asked Ernest. “He’s wrapped around your leg,” Apple Bloom replied. The human looked down and saw that his pet was still clamped down on his leg tighter than a vice. A terrified expression was plastered on the beagle’s face. “Rimshot, it’s okay. You can let go now, buddy. The trip is over.” Ernest tried to pry the dog off, but he was stuck fast. “I can’t feel my leg.” Scootaloo waved her hoof in front of Rimshot’s face. “Man, he’s out of it.” “Stand back,” commanded the little unicorn. “I think I can snap him out of it.” Ernest watched in fascinated terror as Sweetie Belle began to charge up her horn. “Hold on, Sweetie,” Apple Bloom said. “We may need your magic to get home. I’m sure Zecora can fix Rimshot when we find her.” Ernest gave Apple Bloom a confused glance. “He’s already been fixed. All we just need to do is depetrify him.” “What are you talking about?” asked Sweetie Belle. “Isn’t that the same thing?” “Uh, sure,” Ernest said. “So how far away is Zecora’s?” The Crusaders looked at each other, unsure. “I think it’s a mile west of here,” ventured Scootaloo. Ernest nodded. “Sounds good to me. Let’s get moving.” After a while of walking, Ernest came to the conclusion the Everfree Forest was just as scary as the first time he visited it. It seemed like the trees had a mind of their own and were closing in on them. To relieve the tension, he struck up a conversation with the fillies. “So, uh, how’s your sister doing, Sweetie Belle? I really like the hat she made for me.” The little unicorn glared up at the human, which was an effort considering how much her mutated horn weighed. “She’s fine.” Ernest could not help but grin a little. It had been a while since Sweetie Belle had called him a pedophile. To the Troll Fighter, the two of them were becoming fast friends. Ernest petted Rimshot absently. That dog sure had a killer grip on his leg. “So, Scootaloo, are you scared of Zecora? Is she a mean witch?” “What? No. She’s real nice. It’s just that . . . I don’t think I want to be cured. I like my wings.” Ernest looked at Scootaloo’s wings. They were ugly and way too big for her. “Uh, they look good. But wouldn’t you like your old wings back? Something you can control a little better, you know what I mean?” The little pegasus became very downcast. “I can’t fly with my old wings.” “Oh,” Ernest replied. The garbage man wanted to say something profound to the little pegasus, but the words died in his throat as a high-pitched howl split the air. Ernest’s eyes whipped back and forth. “Was that a cute little bunny?” he asked hopefully. “No,” Apple Bloom whispered shakily. “That was a timberwolf.” “What’s a timberwolf?” Hoof trembling, Sweetie Belle pointed. Through the densely-packed trees came several dozen lupine figures. The unicorn blasted the first timberwolf that strayed too close to the group. It began to reform. As the wolves grew closer, the earth pony lashed out with her hind legs. Scootaloo used her immense wings to keep several of the wolves at bay. Ernest looked all around them. The group was nearly surrounded, and there was no room for Scootaloo to fly away to get help. He dodged and weaved out of the way of snapping jaws and found himself back-to-back with the other Crusaders. The human’s mind raced. There had to be a way out of this without getting too many splinters. Then it came to him. “Girls!” Ernest yelled. The three fillies turned their attention to the human. “Don’t ever do this to a pack of timber wolves!” Before the ponies could ask what he was talking about, Ernest cried out, “Abaddeeya, Abaddeeya, Abaddeeya, Abaddeeya, Abaddeeya!” The wooden lupines went berserk and ran straight for Ernest. He figured they would. After all, if badgers hated that sound, timberwolves were like badgers, right? Ernest sprinted through a gap in-between the wolves and trees. Glancing behind him, it looked like the entire pack was breathing down his neck. But at least they were leaving the fillies alone. “WHHAAAAAAAAAAA!” Ernest screamed as he ran blindly into the darkness. He felt Rimshot tightening around him as his arms pumped up and down through the air. The wolves were gaining on him, and could feel his numbed leg begin to falter. Ernest tripped and careened down a steep hill, tumbling all the way. He came to a stop, landing flat on his back at the bottom. Ernest spat out some leaves. “Okay, Rimshot. Next time I’ll hang on to you while we’re being chased by evil fire kindling.” Ernest sat up and his heart plummeted. He was in the epicenter of every timber wolf in the Everfree Forest. “Eh-heh-heh-heh, did I say fire kindling? I meant match dogs. Tough, striking, match dogs. It’s a compliment where I come from. You know what I mean?” he laughed nervously. The wolves growled menacingly at him and drew closer. Ernest closed his eyes and hugged Rimshot close to his chest as best he could. He heard glass shatter right in front of him and a terrible smell whiffed into his nostrils. The Troll Fighter’s eyes watered as his lips worked from side to side. “Eh-heh-hewwwwwwwww!” The Timberwolves scattered, fleeting from the horrible concoction that had been thrown into their midst. Ernest covered his nose and tried to stand. His deadened appendage refused to support his weight. To make matters worse, Ernest could see a cloaked figure walking toward him with a cloth mask wrapped around its face. Panicking, the human looked for anything to throw or use against the approaching four-legged thing. Seeing nothing useful, Ernest decided to play dead. The hoof-falls stopped mere feet away from him. “I apologize for the smelly brew, but lucky for you, my aim was true.” The words were feminine and had a pleasant sing-song ring. Ernest cracked open an eye. After seeing the scary cloaked figure, he quickly closed it again. “There is no need to play possum. I think that your saving the fillies is awesome.” Ernest wondered why the mysterious figure talked so funny. He opened his eyes and sat up. He Covering his nose, he declared, “Dr. Seuss! You’re talking in Dr. Seuss! Are you the witch, Zecora?” Zecora drew back her hood so the human could see her face. Her aqua-colored eyes narrowed. “Yes, but now I have a question for you. Are you the thief who stole my precious brew?” Ernest frowned. “Hey, wait a minute. I’m not a thief. I paid for everything I took . . . I think; everything is kind of fuzzy when I think about it.” Zecora nodded solemnly. “Your mind gets turned to jell-o, when you drink my Mellow Yellow.” Before Ernest could reply, three ponies ran out of the trees. Ignoring the powerful stench, the little ponies flung themselves at Ernest and enveloped him in a hug. “We thought you were a goner!” Scootaloo cried. “You’re the bravest pedoph— I mean, human I ever met.” Sweetie Belle said happily. “Ya did good, stupid. Real good,” Apple Bloom said slapping him on the back. Ernest wondered if his spine would ever be the same again. Zecora spoke up. “I hate to spoil this moment of bliss, but we must not linger in a place like this.” With Zecora leading the way, the group made it to the zebra’s hut as night fell. It was slow going because of Ernest’s leg and Sweetie Belle’s horn. They went inside and Apple Bloom helped Ernest onto a stool. Zecora took off her cloak and mask. Ernest’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’re a zebra? Wow, I’ve never saw one up close before.” Zecora chuckled. “I have heard that phrase many a time. Now let’s see about this pepper of mine.” Without another word Zecora opened a wooden cabinet and pulled out a pepper grinder. The zebra walked up to Rimshot and turned the grinder just above the beagle’s nose. The dog released his master and began to sneeze up a storm. The brew mistress shook her head then turned to the fillies. “Lucky for you three, I was prepared for such a catastrophe.” Zecora made her way to the far side of her hut where her tribal masks hung. Carefully, she lifted a mask off the wall. Behind it were three plain vials nestled into the wall of the hut. She gave the vials to the ponies. “Drink this and it should return you to normal. Perhaps now you will remember not to borrow from Ernest P. Worrell.” Both Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom nodded thankfully and drank the potion. Apple Bloom cheered as she returned to being a little filly. Sweetie Belle rested her head on the table, grateful that the heavy weight of her horn was gone. Scootaloo stared at the unopened vial in her hooves. “Sweet, Scootaloo, you know this is the right thing to do,” Zecora said quietly. Scootaloo slammed down the vial. “I don’t want to give up these wings! I’m tired of not being able to fly!” She buried her face in her hooves. Ernest winced. “Hey, it’s alright. I can’t fly either.” Scootaloo glared at the human. “You’re not supposed to. I am.” “Well, aren’t there other things you’re good at? Other things you like?” Ernest pressed. The pegasus frowned. “Well, I like riding my scooter a lot. But I guess. . .” She lifted one of the massive wings. “These won’t let me ride anymore. I won’t be able to do any of my awesome tricks.” She sighed heavily and drank the potion. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle nudged her and told her she was making the right choice. Scootaloo was very quiet as her wings slowly shrank to their normal size. Ernest felt badly for the pony but was snapped out of his melancholy by Zecora. “Tell me, Mr. Worrell, how was taking my property moral?” The human scratched the back of his neck as he began to retell the story of how he got here. With Rimshot’s help, he told her about the trolls and how they followed a bear to her hut. Ernest went on to explain about Rimshot needing to use the restroom and that Mellow Yellow was his favorite brand of soda pop where he came from. When Ernest got to the part about how he had a dream involving talking masks, Zecora stopped him. Her eyes were ablaze with surprise and curiosity as she asked, “What did these spirits say? I must know! Now! Today!” The fillies looked at each other in surprise. They had never seen Zecora worked up like this before. Ernest put both hands to his head as he wracked his brain for what the mask-spirits had said. “Hello, oafish one, your quest has just started . . . I mean begun. You are in the land of Equestria, ruled by Princess Celestia. We are the guardians of mold, er, old, whose magic shapes and molds. Fate has brought you here to take away the ponies’ fear. Go forth and take what you must, leave now before all is dust.” To the beagle and the crusaders this sounded very cheesy, but Zecora rubbed her chin in contemplation. “Are these the exact words the spirits spoke? This is not a funny joke.” The human nodded frantically. “I’m almost seventy-two percent sure that’s what they said. I mean, I was asleep floating above my own body, wondering if those masks were going to eat me. I think I did pretty good remembering what I did.” The zebra looked at Ernest carefully for a long moment. She finally said, “All is forgiven, let us say no more. It is getting late; you all should be going out the door.” The group made good time now that everybody was back to normal. It was late at night when they reached the edge of the Everfree Forest, and Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, and Twilight were there searching for them. As soon as the mares saw the group, they rushed over. “Where in tarnation have you been?” Applejack cried. “We looked everywhere for ya! Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, and the rest of the family are still looking. They’re practically tearing the whole town apart.” Rarity grabbed her sister and gave her a hug. “Oh, Sweetie Belle, are you alright? Did Ernest hurt you? If he hurt you, I swear I’ll—” “No!” Sweetie Belle yelled. “He saved us from a pack of timber wolves!” “Timber wolves?” Rainbow Dash asked in disbelief. “No way.” She studied the human with a new appreciation. “It’s true,” Scootaloo chimed in. “You should have seen him. He did this one super annoying wolf call and got all the timber wolves to chase him. It was wicked!” “Hold on,” Twilight said, holding up a quieting hoof. “What were all of you doing in the Everfree Forest in the first place?” Apple Bloom gulped. “It’s a long story.” “We have time.” Twilight said with a hint of menace. The other three mares nodded in agreement. And so the story was told again in intricate detail from the perspectives of Ernest, Rimshot, and the Crusaders. Rainbow Dash left during part of it to tell the others in Ponyville that everyone missing had been found. She came back finding the end of the story as incomprehensible as the beginning. When the tale was over, Twilight declared, “This explains a lot.” Rarity looked at her sister and her friends accusingly. “You three should have known better than to take somepony else’s things.” Looking downcast, the three fillies nodded. Coming to their defense, Ernest said, “Well, me and Rimshot kind of did the same thing.” The beagle barked in protest. “Uh, I mean I did the same thing. . . but only because the spirit-masks said it was okay. But I should have asked Zecora first. I know I would hate it if someone came into my place and started taking my stuff without asking me. Ya know what I mean?” Applejack yawned widely. “Well, I for one am glad y’all are safe and sound. Now let’s hit the hay. We’ll talk about this some more in the mornin’.” No one objected as the ponies went their separate ways. “Ready to come back to Golden Oaks, boys?” Twilight asked sleepily. Rimshot yipped his approval, but Ernest was looking over at a sulking Scootaloo. Rainbow Dash was trying to comfort her. “Cheer up, squirt. It’ll be alright,” she said nudging her with a hoof. Scootaloo nodded but didn’t say a word. “How about I spend the day with you tomorrow, and we can work on upgrading your scooter. Those plans you’re working on look pretty sweet.” The little pegasus nodded but was obviously distracted. The two started to make their way into Ponyville. “Wait a second,” Ernest called. “It’s pretty late, buddy. Can’t this wait?” asked Rainbow Dash yawning. Ignoring the older pegasus, Ernest knelt down to Scootaloo and said, “I want to give you something. It’s not much, but I know you had a really rough day, and I want to try and make it better.” As Twilight, Rainbow Dash, and Rimshot looked on, Ernest took a folded, beat up piece of paper out of his denim vest pocket and gave it to Scootaloo. “What’s this?” she asked. She couldn’t read the words with so little light. “It sounds like you got a pretty good head on your shoulders for making and fixing things. I should know, being a fellow tinker-er. So, I want to give you the title to my truck and everything in it. The old girl is pretty rough around the edges right now, if you know what I mean. But I think the truck will get you a little more speed than the scooter will.” Scootaloo’s eyes grew huge with wonder. “You’re giving me your truck? You mean, I can have it? That thing sitting behind Apple Bloom’s house, I can have that?” Ernest nodded sheepishly. “I know it’s not a new set of wings, and I know it’s not much. But she’s a great old girl, and she’s yours if you want her.” The next thing the human knew, he was being tackled by an ecstatic pegasus doing her best to hug him to death. “Of course I want it! I mean, her! Thank you! Thank you, Ernest. This means the world to me. I’ll make her the fastest truck ever! Just you wait.”