//------------------------------//
// That Darn, Mean Green Bean 
// Story: Bad Dude And The Coalition Of United Terrible Evils 
// by naturalbornderpy 
//------------------------------//

Bad Dude took his time deciding on what color he wanted to fill in his cape with. He’d already doodled and colored in most of his latest “Bad Dude” drawing and had left the cape portion for last. In this particular drawing, Bad Dude was soaring over the edge of what looked like a castle wall as a giant fireball crashed into the stone just behind him, obliterating most of it. As Bad Dude would’ve called it—an “action shot”.
                
Bad Dude pursed his lips, going over his limited set of Crayons.
                
“Brandeis blue?” he mused to himself. “Or azure? Maybe palatinate? Hmm. Don’t think I’ve used cornflower blue before.”
                
Then he quickly remembered his set of eight Crayons had only a single shade of blue, before he shrugged and retrieved it with his teeth anyways. As he shaded in the remainder of his cape, he hummed to himself and tried his best to ignore the happily laughing and playing foals around him.
                
Mrs. Cheerilee’s class had been let out ten minutes ago for recess and all Bad Dude had wanted to do the moment he could was sit under the nearest tree and draw. He had C.U.T.E.’s newest mission on the brain and, for the life of him, couldn’t stop from thinking about it.
                
Until someone’s shadow covered his nearly-finished drawing.
                
“What you doing, Sweet Glaze?” Sweetie Belle asked. “Coloring again?”
                
Bad Dude gave her an absent nod and continued coloring in his cape.
                
“Can I see?” she asked lightly.
                
When Bad Dude didn’t reply right away, Sweetie Belle sat down beside him and then continued to lean over his work. Out of the corner of his vision, Bad Dude could see her lips thin as she gave a little squeak.
                
“Why are you drawing him?” Sweetie Belle questioned him harshly. “That colt’s causing nothing but trouble for my sister and her friends. They’re all worried he’s going to do something terrible soon.”
                
Bad Dude had to be careful in hiding his grin from her. “I happen to like Bad Dude. I… think he’s cool. Super cool, even.”
                
Sweetie Belle furrowed her brows. “Bad Dude’s a villain, Sweet Glaze. Villains aren’t supposed to be cool. That’s why villains never have friends—because no one wants to be around them for very long. You should be drawing someone like… like the Power Ponies!”
                
A tad irritated, Bad Dude spit his crayon to the grass and turned to her. “Villains can too have friends… the trouble is making them first. It also happens to help if you share the same activities—like laughing really loud.” He seemed to brighten as he thought about that. “Did you know on average villains spend twelve percent of their day laughing? I made a pie chart about villain day plans if you ever wanted to see it.”
                
But by that point in their conversation, Sweetie Belle had become more interested in his drawing than him. Using her horn, she levitated his sketchbook and held it in front of her.
                
She frowned at it. “Say… Bad Dude looks a lot like you, doesn’t he?”
                
To add to the effect, she even held the drawing next to Bad Dude’s head as his cheeks flushed.
                
“Nu-uh!” he exclaimed with watertight defense. “We don’t look anything alike! And, he’s like… a whole six inches taller than me! And cool!”
                
Sweetie Belle narrowed her gaze and scratched at her cheek. “I don’t know…”
                
“Well… don’t forget that… uhh…” Bad Dude tried searching for something—anything—to add to his defense. Then it struck him like a bolt of pure sapphire-blue lightning. “But Bad Dude wears a cape! I don’t even have one!”
                	
“But you could have one,” Sweetie Belle interjected. “Maybe in a closet somewhere.”
                
“Nope!” Bad Dude trumpeted. “No capes in my closet! Only… bows! Yes! Lots and lots of bows! Boy, do I love me some bows! Yes, I do!”
                
Sweetie Belle raised a curious brow. “All right, Sweet Glaze. I didn’t mean to get you all worked up about it. I was only thinking out loud—like maybe Bad Dude was a cousin of yours or something.” She paused for a moment. “Also… don’t tell Apple Bloom about your bow collection. That’s kind of her thing.”
                
Bad Dude gave a hurried nod and snatched his sketchbook back, laying it down next to the tree trunk beside him.
                
“Still,” Sweetie Belle continued thoughtfully, “I just wish someone would put a stop to him already. I feel so bad for Rarity and all of her friends. If only there was something Apple Bloom, Scootaloo, and I could do to help them out.” She gasped as her eyes flew open and she stood up abruptly.
                
“What is it?” Bad Dude asked her.
                
“I just got a great idea!” Sweetie Belle explained, before she failed to explain anything. “I've got to go see Rarity about this! I only hope she has enough fabric!”
                
As Sweetie Belle ran across the playground and rejoined her group of friends, Bad Dude let out a soft sigh. As relieved as he was for not having his secret identity found out about, something about what Sweetie Belle had said still filled him with worry.
                
Sadly, that ball of worry would soon be turned to anger as he turned to grab his sketchbook, only to find a muddy hoof-print at the very center of his latest Bad Dude drawing.
                
“Hey!” Bad Dude shouted, his voice cracking around the edges. “Who did this!?”
                
A guttural chuckle made Bad Dude look up and his pupils shrink.
                
“Thought I’d try and improve on it, Short Glaze,” said Green Bean, the green colt with a thick patch of mane covering both of his eyes; his mouth continuously hanging limp as if always thinking about something funny… but not that funny, mind you. “You really should be thanking me.”
                
“I worked hard on that drawing!” Bad Dude told him, charging to his hooves. “Why do you gotta keep on ruining my stuff, Green Bean?”
                
Green Bean chuckled again. “Because it’s fun… and because you’re weird. Haven’t you noticed how much nobody likes you around here? I bet you have more drawings of friends than actual friends.”
                
Bad Dude stomped a hoof. “I do too have friends! A whole bunch of them!”
                
“Then they must be invisible,” Green Bean spat back at him. “Let me guess. Is Bad Dude one of your friends, too? Is that why you spend all your time drawing him, Short Glaze?”
                
Bad Dude exhaled roughly. “My name is Sweet Glaze! Short Glaze doesn’t even make sense! How can glaze be short? And can’t you think of more than at least one insult, Green Bean?”
                
Green Bean pursed his lips and pondered on that. Eventually, he answered with another guttural chuckle. “I don’t have to think of any new nicknames… Shortest Glaze! I’m clever. Even my mom says so.” A mischievous grin slowly ate up his muzzle. “Say, isn’t it your birthday soon?”
                
Originally mad, Bad Dude’s temper waned as he had to look away from him. “No… my birthday was last month… you missed it…”
                
Green Bean shook his head and held onto his smile. “Nah! I remember the date all too well. Either this week or next week—it just has to be. Wasn’t it last year that you invited the whole class to your birthday and not a single one of them showed up?”
                
“I… no… it—” Bad Dude muttered out, trying his best to find the right words. His cheeks began to burn a bright crimson.
                
“I bet since your dad’s a baker,” Green Bean cut in, “he must’ve made a bunch of cakes and pies and everything. How many did you have to throw out when no one bothered to come?”
                
Bad Dude frowned as he felt his eyes start to shimmer. “None! Because I didn’t even have a party last year!”
                
Green Bean snorted. “Yes, you did. You gave all your invitations to Mrs. Cheerilee to hand out in class—too bad everyone had enough sense to stay home instead. Why would anyone want to waste time on you, Sour Glaze?” He stopped himself. “Hey! I like that one! You like that one, Sour Glaze?”
                
Instead of answering, Bad Dude merely stared at his hooves and tried to keep his tears at bay.
                
“Serves you right,” Green Bean continued on thickly, “all you ever talk about is villains and giant battles and super heroes and all that crap. Who cares? It makes you sound weird. That presentation on ‘Chaos Theory’ last week? I don’t even think Mrs. Cheerilee was able to stay awake for that one!”
                
Bad Dude sniffled quietly. “I happen to know someone very knowledgeable on Chaos Theory…”
                
Green Bean waved a hoof. “Whatever—can’t wait until this year’s birthday party totally fails on you. Have a good one, Spit Glaze!” He gasped. “Oh, man! I’m on fire! I gotta go write some of these down!”
                
With that said, Green Bean trotted off to record his latest batch of insults, leaving Bad Dude to slump to the ground and hug his sketchpad close to his chest. A moment after, he looked over his now ruined Bad Dude drawing and didn’t bother trying to save it from the tears that soon began dotting the page.
                

***

 
Bad Dude knew he hadn’t cried at school because Green Bean had been mean to him. Green Bean was mean to everyone besides the few older classmates that made up his little pack of troublemakers. No. It was something far worse that had made Bad Dude cry at school—the fact that Green Bean had actually been right about something for once.
                
Bad Dude actually didn’t have any friends.
                
Last year, Bad Dude had personally written out each and every invitation to every last one of his school mates—including a specialized one to Sweetie Belle that even had a little drawing of her inside of it. So, the week before his birthday, he gave his invitations to Mrs. Cheerilee to hand out during the day and not a single one of them came to his house the following week. Bad Dude could still remember the day he brought the invitations to school.

Green Bean had been told to stay inside during recess after pulling on Scootaloo’s mane and making fun of the way it was cut. Bad Dude went outside and played with everyone else, all while Green Bean had to stay inside and write lines on the board. Bad Dude could still recall his tall stack of invitations on the edge of Mrs. Cheerilee’s desk as he trotted out the door…
                
Bad Dude kept his head down as he got back home. The moment he entered, he could already hear his mother in the kitchen, strolling from the counter to the table and back.
                
“That you, Sweet Glaze?” she cooed to him.
                
Bad Dude grunted his response and immediately headed for the stairs.
                
His mother stopped him from the landing. “How was school today?”
                
“Fine,” he answered bluntly.
                
“Learn anything new and exciting?”
                
“How much I hate vegetables.”
                
“Oh?” His mother furrowed her brows. “Odd curriculum this year, I guess. You given any thought on what you want for your birthday yet?”
                
“I don’t want anything…” Bad Dude mumbled miserably. “I don’t want a birthday at all.”
                
Bad Dude’s mother pursed her lips. “Honey… I know that last year…”
                
“I’ll be playing in my closet,” Bad Dude told her, continuing up the stairs. “I don’t want to talk about it right now.”
                
His mother held a hoof to her chest. “Okay… just come out of the closet when you’re ready, all right, Sweet Glaze? Preferably before dinner. We’re having vegetable stew tonight!”
                
As tasty as his mother’s patented vegetable stew always was, Bad Dude only wanted to be somewhere else other than his home at the moment—be someone else at the moment, too. And luckily he could do just that.
 

***


 

“I think he looks cute,” Chrysalis explained evenly, her eyes narrowed in the slightest of degrees.
                
At that, Discord loudly grunted and rolled his eyes. “Then I believe your sense of cute must be broken. Or severely damaged, at least.”
                
A loud snore made them both look forward, where King Sombra was peacefully spread out on one of the fortress’ thick couches. He was so deeply asleep, his tongue had lolled out of his mouth and a trail of drool had already stained the piece of furniture he was on.
                
Discord pulled on his beard. “He sure sleeps a lot, doesn’t he?”
                
“Not like there’s much going on at the moment,” Chrysalis replied. “Plus… he might still be saving up his strength.”
                
Discord angled his head towards her. “Oh, sure. That must be what all cats are doing during their daily eighteen hour naps—saving their strength. Sombra’s a freeloader, plain and simple.”
                
Chrysalis shot him a look. “We’re expected to pay rent in this place?”
                
“Hmm.” Discord thought on that. “No, just Tirek. But I’ll be kind. He can pay for his room and board through punches to the face. What say you? Lion’s paw or eagle’s claw? Or should I instead stick his head in my armpit after my morning jog?”
                
Chrysalis shook her head. “Not once have I ever seen you exercise here.”
                
Stoically, Discord closed his eyes. “If it means pissing Tirek off, I’d do anything no matter how much it pained me—even mild exercise.” He opened his eyes again and flashed a devilish grin. “You want to play Sombra Stack?”
                
“I…” Chrysalis began. “What? Sombra has a game all his own now? Where’s my board game?”
                
Discord rolled his eyes. “It’s not a board game. I just made it up. Sombra Stack is where we see how many things we can stack on top of Sombra before he wakes up. I bet we could reach the ceiling before he even rolls over.”
                
Chrysalis took a tentative glance towards the ceiling. “That’s like… two stories tall.”
                
Discord wrapped an elastic arm around her shoulders to pull her in close. “Never played Jenga before, Chryssi? Or are you only afraid of losing?”
                
One moment of deliberation later, they began to Sombra Stack.
 

***


 

“I need another throw pillow up here,” Chrysalis called down from near the ceiling, hovering in the air with her paper-thin wings.
                
Down below, Discord tossed up another polka dot pillow that Tac caught midway before bringing it up to Chrysalis. Biting the tip of her tongue, Chrysalis added the latest item atop the pile and waited to see if it would all collapse to the ground. Thankfully, it only wavered a tad.
                
Discord held a hand to the side of his mouth. “How much more, Chryssi?”
                
Chrysalis did a rough estimate of how much further it was to the ceiling. “Two feet, give or take.”
                
Discord nodded a single time. “We can do this.”
                
King Sombra had all been covered and then recovered and perhaps even covered a third time. Underneath the meters of pillows and couch cushions, tables and chairs, dishes and fine china, vases and paintings, desks and lamps, the incredibly faint sound of his continued snores could still be heard. By this point in time, Discord thought Sombra could be blown up by the power of love all over again and still somehow continue to sleep soundly—even in pieces.
                
Chrysalis flew back down to the ground. “What else we got?”
                
“Uhh…” Discord gave the living room a quick look over. “Hmm. Not much—might have to grab some more stuff from the games room. Think the pile could handle another pinball machine?”
                
Just as Chrysalis and Discord turned in the direction of the games room, Tirek entered the scene and stared at the tower of randomness with a bemused expression.
                
He crossed his arms over his chest. “This is supposed to be a house of villainy and carnage, is it not?”
                
“Only on Wednesdays,” Discord rebuked, this jaw already pulled tight.
                
Tirek pointed at the base of the tower. “Sombra’s under there?”
                
Chrysalis gave a nod. “We’re trying to reach the ceiling.”
                
Using his thin fingers, Tirek pinched the bridge of his nose. “So juvenile. A unicorn asleep on the couch and the first thought that crosses both of your minds is to pile stuff on top of him. Did no one think of placing one of his hooves in warm water?”
                
Discord roughly ground his teeth. “I happen to like that couch, goat boy, so hold your tongue.”
                
Tirek waved a hand at that. “More useless banter—this fortress is full of it. I want to discuss my current living quarters, Discord.”
                
“Again?” Discord snapped. “First the washroom wasn’t good enough for you… then the roof wasn’t good enough for you…”
                
“And now this room isn’t good enough for me, either,” Tirek interjected. “It’s empty. Literally empty. It’s a brick room with no windows or furniture. I thought my cell back in Tartarus was bad!”
                
Discord chuckled dryly. “I was only trying to make it match your personality, Tirek. As in… you don’t have one.”
                
Tirek slumped his shoulders. “I’m surrounded by children,” he muttered to himself.
                
A quiet trot noise pulled at all their attentions; Bad Dude had exited from his secret closet entrance and wordlessly went to one of the armchairs in the room. Once seated, he leaned against the back of the chair and stared at nothing in particular.
                
“Finally!” Tirek trumpeted. “Someone with the ability to hold a normal conversation. Greetings again, Bad Dude.”
                
Bad Dude sighed. “Hi, Tirek.”
                
Tirek’s original glee fell away from him as he appeared puzzled. He pressed a finger to his mouth.
                
Chrysalis knelt down beside Bad Dude’s chair. “Tic, Tac, and Toe were asking earlier if you wanted to play a game of tag again soon. They even promised not to use their wings this time. Could be fun, right?”
                
Absently, Bad Dude rubbed his hooves together. “Maybe later.”
                
Chrysalis set a hoof on Bad Dude’s shoulder. “Is something wrong, Bad Dude?”
                
Without answering, Bad Dude shook his head, even as his chin quivered a bit.
                
“Are you sure?” Chrysalis implored gently. “If something’s the matter, I’m sure we can help.”
                
Bad Dude sniffled again, his eyes watering. “But I’m Bad Dude now… and nothing bad happens to Bad Dude. Bad Dude is awesome and goes on adventures and has a whole bunch of…” He let his sentence trail off.
                
Chrysalis stared at him openly. “Then did something bad happen to Sweet Glaze today, perhaps?”
                
After hitching in a single breath, Bad Dude answered her glumly. “Yes…”
                
“And what was that?”
                
Chin trembling and eyes full of tears, Bad Dude eventually told her, “This mean colt at my school… he ruined a picture of mine and said I had no friends… all because… all because no one came to my birthday party last year…” His face hardened for a moment. “But that’s fine! I hate birthdays! And I never want to have one again! All it means is you’re getting older! And who wants to get older, anyways?”
                
As Chrysalis scooped him up into her forelegs and rubbed his back, Discord cautiously took a step towards them. “This… colt wouldn’t happen to have a name, would he, Bad Dude?”
                
With tear-stained cheeks, Bad Dude pried his head from Chrysalis’ shoulder. “Green Bean! Everyone only does what he wants because he’s bigger than them! But I won’t! I hate him! I wish he would just leave me alone!”
                
Discord furrowed his brows. “A kid named Green Bean who’s mean? Since when did we all get trapped in a storybook?”
                
Chrysalis shot daggers at him. “Now is not the time for jokes, Discord; especially unfunny ones.”
                
Discord shook his head. “Oh, come now. That was at least a six out of ten. Right, Tirek?”
                
“I’ll give you a four,” Tirek answered bitterly, keeping a keen eye on the conversation happening before him.
                
After Chrysalis dried Bad Dude’s cheeks with a hoof, she asked, “Would a root beer float make you feel a little better, Bad Dude?”
                
Bad Dude nodded. “I guess.”
                
Chrysalis whistled sharply. “Children! Escort Bad Dude to the kitchen and prepare him a large root beer float… and whatever else he might be craving.”
                		
Tic, Tac, and Toe did as they were bid, traveling with Bad Dude up the hallway towards the kitchen area. While they traveled, Tic took on the form of Bad Dude and began bouncing by his side, trying to get a reaction out of him. Bad Dude took no notice of this and Tic eventually turned to his other two brothers confused.
                
Once well out of sight and sound, Chrysalis spread her wings out and slammed a hoof onto the armchair where Bad Dude had just been sitting, leaving it in pieces. Her eyes were burning a bright venomous green.
                
“How could someone make that poor child cry!” she fumed loudly. “It just makes me sick! Hurting Bad Dude like that!”
                
The latest of Sombra’s snores was cut short as the tower of pillows and accessories covering him jittered a bit. The next moment, every part of the giant stack of randomness was blown against the walls by a wide ball of expanding red energy. Most fell to the floor either sizzling or completely blackened and torn asunder.
                
Sombra stood up on the couch and shot smoke out of his nostrils. “Who dares hurt Prince Bad Dude!? Who!? I promise, I’ll have their guts on a platter!”
                
Discord pursed his lips, eyeing up the flaming wreckage all around the room. “Afraid you just destroyed all our good platters, actually, Sombra.”
                
Sombra visibly ground his teeth together, somehow emitting sparks off of them. “Then their guts on a normal plate! I don’t care! I want vengeance! I want retribution! Now, damn it! Now!”
                
Discord cocked a thick brow at him. “You really want to go out and hurt a colt the same age as Bad Dude?”
                
“Of course!” Sombra answered earnestly. “Didn’t you just hear me screaming about it?”
                
Discord giggled. “Only making sure we’re on the same page here.”
                
That was when Discord cast his red-and-yellow eyes towards Chrysalis, who caught his stare and returned it with the faintest of nods. Once Discord nodded back, he turned his attention towards Sombra, who flashed him his sharp fangs before purple smoke began lazily drifting from his eyes. Lastly, Sombra focused his piercing red-and-green glare at Chrysalis, who followed that up with a one-sided smirk.
                
Still standing by himself in the corner of the room, Tirek watched this all unfold, not exactly knowing what to make out of it. “Why is no one saying anything?” he asked. “Why is everyone staring at each other? I’m still new here, so… is this, like, some secret code or something? Hello? Am I talking to myself now? It feels like I’m talking to myself.”
                
That was when all three other sets of eyes fell onto Tirek and he took a hurried step back.
                
Then he laughed. “Oh. We’re up to no good. Now I get it.”