//------------------------------// // Issue 9: The Attack of Evil Filly Scouts! // Story: Mission Control // by Samey90 //------------------------------// “Hey, you! Wake up!” “Tubby, it’s not even six...” Dinky muttered, turning in her bed. “What’s going on?” “We’re in danger. Get up and join your allies as soon as you can.” Dinky groaned. “Tubby, what are you talking about? What danger? And why does it need to come in the morning?” “Enemies never sleep,” Tubby replied. “Just like me. If you feel you won’t manage to do that yourself, you can always let me take over.” “Never!” Dinky exclaimed, rolling out of her bed and landing on all four. “You know bad things happen when I let you control my body.” "Let me take control.” Tubby’s voice sounded metallic, like a chainsaw getting started. “I'll give you powers you can't imagine." "I have good imagination,” Dinky replied. “Ms. Cheerilee said that." "That's what she says to every foal whose IQ is lower than their hoof size!" “Strong words for a potato who can only whisper things in my head.” Dinky walked to the mirror and levitated a comb. Tubby made a sound that could be a sigh, if genetically engineered vegetables could sigh. “Listen, moron, how do you want to fight enemies when you still want to manually operate your body? Your reflexes and strength are too weak to be effective...” “Don’t worry,” Dinky replied. “Mommy said that if I eat lots of oatmeal, I’ll grow big and strong.” “With me controlling the body, you wouldn’t need to eat,” Tubby said. “Sun is where it’s at. A source of energy for a whole army of augmented soldiers who can–” “Oh, shut up,” Dinky muttered and walked out of her room. Bon Bon opened her eyes. Without moving her body, she slowly looked to the left. Lyra was still sleeping. Carefully, Bon Bon lifted the blanket and left the bed swiftly, landing on the soft carpet. Lyra never knew that its intended use was to muffle every hoofstep. The bed was also special. It took Bon Bon a month to take all the Lyra’s measurements and find a suitable bed in Quills and Sofas. However, it was time well spent – now the bed was suited exactly to Lyra’s perception of comfort, causing her to sleep so tight that even a great pony war wouldn’t be able to wake her up. Just like Bon Bon planned. The well-oiled wickets made no sound when Bon Bon left the room and walked downstairs to her secret lab, which could be entered only by playing the first three notes of Blind Pegasus Blues on a piano standing in Bon Bon’s not-secret lab. There, in a small room with walls covered with newspaper clippings, Bon Bon could look through the movies her cameras recorded during the night. “Celestia have mercy on us all,” Bon Bon whispered to herself. She got up from her chair and ran out of the house. Luckily, it was too early for reasonable ponies to be awake. She galloped through the town, took a shortcut through Sweet Apple Acres and reached Carrot Top’s house in no time. Normally she’d chuckle at the carrot-themed building, but there was no time for such things. “I hope Celestia forgives me for what I’m about to do,” Bon Bon said to herself before knocking on the door. Nothing happened. Bon Bon sighed and banged at the door. “It’s not even six!” Carrot Top’s voice came from the second floor. “Take a carrot from the field and stick it up your–” “I need to talk to you, Carrot,” Bon Bon replied. “Now.” A moment later, Carrot Top opened the door. “What do you want?” she asked. “If my kids beat your kid, I’m pretty sure it was the other way around. This little brute–” Bon Bon sighed. “Sleeper agent Carrot Top, I hereby pronounce thee awoken,” she said in an official tone. Carrot Top froze. A few seconds later she blinked and looked around unsurely. “Sweetie Drops,” she said. “Golden Harvest,” Bon Bon replied. “Good to see you back... as yourself.” “What’s going on?” Carrot Top asked. “I’m pretty sure you didn’t wake me up just to talk about good old times... After Hoofington–” “If we act quickly, rebuilding the whole town in one night and wiping memories of twenty thousand ponies won’t be necessary this time,” Bon Bon said. “But yeah, it’s about your kids.” “You mean, those two experimental clones pretending to be my kids?” Carrot Top asked, gesturing Bon Bon inside. “Exactly.” Bon Bon walked into the kitchen and took a carrot from the table. “Actually, I was wondering why Project Uberpferd let you keep them after field testing was over.” “They didn’t,” Carrot Top replied. “You know, they erased my memories, but they couldn’t make me forget my skills. On a related note, dead agents make a good fertiliser. Does the Project want to try to take them again?” Bon Bon looked at the carrot she was holding and put it back on the table. “Worse. Remember that prototype military chip some idiot ‘misplaced’?” Dinky put the spoon in the empty bowl of oatmeal and carried it to the sink. Tubby didn’t speak again during breakfast – perhaps she hurt his feelings again. “How are you today, muffin?” Dinky’s mom asked, walking into the kitchen. “Great, mom,” Dinky replied. “Are you going to do superhero stuff with Twist again?” “I think so.” Dinky smiled. “I need to get my outfit.” “With me in control, you won’t need an outfit,” Tubby said. “I can make you invisible, or make others fear whenever they see you...” “I don’t want to be invisible,” Dinky muttered. “Are you talking with your imaginary friend again, honey?” “Yes, mom.” Dinky trotted to the stairs. “He asks what’s for dinner.” “How about a potato casserole?” Dinky’s mom asked. “Oh, hell no,” Tubby muttered. “I know it gives us more strength than any other kind of food, but that’s just plain wrong.” “If something is plain wrong, is it checkered right?” Dinky asked. “That’s beyond my programming.” Tubby made a mental equivalent of a shrug. “Currently, the level of danger is roughly fifty four percent. We’d better go and find the rest before it reaches sixty.” “If you say so...” Dinky walked to her room to take her outfit. Carrot Top’s eyes widened. “P0T4T0 chip on the loose... It may be Vanhoover all over again. For Luna’s sake, there’s a reason they dumped it and used peaches...” “We shouldn’t have tampered with those in the first place,” Bon Bon said. “That’s why I left the Project after the bugbear fiasco.” She shuddered. “But that’s not the worst. The chip is not fully active. According to my calculations and observations, the situation we currently have is more or less like Manehattan.” “Which Manehattan?” Carrot Top asked. “The one with PTSD triggered by a sight of a mop,” Bon Bon said. “This one...” Carrot Top shivered and hid her face in her hooves. “The smell of plastic bags... Torn sashes everywhere...” “Yeah,” Bon Bon muttered. “But at least we know about everything this time.” Carrot Top stood up. “I just remembered something,” she said. “I still have that secret room in here...” Button opened his eyes and immediately realised that he was still dreaming. While having seven fillies around his bed would be nice, he knew well such things just couldn’t happen in real life. Especially to him. “Ya fink I can smack ‘im?” “There are easier ways to wake someone up.” That was definitely Nursery’s voice. Button thought that he didn’t want to wake up. That moment was too beautiful. “Hey, you! I can see from here that you’re awake!” “I am?” Button asked, opening his eyes again. There were definitely seven fillies around his bed. Twist, Nursery, Dinky, Tootsie, Tagalong, and two rollerskaters were looking at him impatiently. “How did you get here?” “Through the window, of course,” Twist replied. “Does anyone use doors anymore?” Button asked, rolling his eyes. “We do, but they don’t last long,” the filly with roller skates and a blue costume said. “By the way, I’m Sunny Daze and this is Peachy Pie.” “Nice to meet you,” Button muttered. “So, what’s the problem?” “A bunch of mind-controlled filly scouts with guns trying to get us!” Twist exclaimed, rolling her eyes. “And it’s all Tootsie’s fault.” “Mine?” Tootsie asked. “It was Tag’s friend!” “We’d better talk about that later.” Button jumped out of the bed and opened the closet where he kept all his equipment. The monitors lit up and Button started banging at the keyboard. “I’ll put the drone over their headquarters...” The view from the camera changed. After a short flight over the Everfree Forest, it centered on a wooden house. “I can’t see any activity there,” Button muttered. “Are you sure it was them? You know, someone could’ve disguised as a filly scout...” “Do I look like I’m joking?” Tagalong asked, trying to look down on Button – a difficult feat since she was a head shorter than him. “One can say she’s dead serious...” “Nursery!” Twist exclaimed. “What? I recently figured out puns,” Nursery Rhyme muttered. “They’re new to me...” “Tell me when you figure out subtlety,” Twist replied before turning to Button. “Zoom on the window.” Button pushed a few keys. Suddenly, the image wobbled and the ground started to grow bigger. “We don’t need that much zoom,” Peachy said, when the image of the grass filled the whole picture. “It got shot down,” Button muttered. “But the camera is still working.” “So, there’s some activity there, after all,” Nursery said. “Small and made of lead.” “When did you figure out one-liners?” Twist asked. “After a night shift with Sweetheart and a patient who was half the pony he used to be.” “Shh!” Button looked at the screen. “Someone’s coming!” They saw the faces of two filly scouts on the monitor. Judging by the shaking, one of them poked the downed drone with a stick. “Maybe they’ll carry it inside...” Twist muttered, watching the screen carefully. Indeed, after a few minutes, one of the scouts grabbed the drone and walked with it to the base. Tagalong grabbed a crayon and a piece of paper from Button’s desk and started to draw something. “You can draw a plan just by watching where they’re going?” Peachy asked. “Impressive.” Tagalong sighed. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, but I’m a filly scout too. I visit this building almost every day and I know it by heart.” “So... We could’ve just asked?” Tootsie hit her face with her hoof. “A ‘thank you’ would be nice too.” “Okay,” Dinky muttered. “So, are we going to go there?” “Yes.” Twist looked at Tagalong’s plan and scratched her mane. “I already have an intricate plan how to get there and how to stop Cranberry Crisp…” Abernethy Biscuit looked at the door. It’d been a while since they found a downed drone, but the voice in her head was still telling her to stay there with the others and watch for any danger. Custard Cream, Fig Roll, Macaroon, Fortune Cookie, Oat Crisp, and Party Ring were sitting there with her, their weapons drawn and ready to fire. Abernethy looked at the submachine gun in her hooves. Deep down, something was telling her that it was wrong and they were supposed to be peaceful. However, Cranberry Crisp’s voice was still present in her mind, sweeping all the doubts away. Abernethy clicked the fire selector absentmindedly and looked at Fig Roll, who held a sniper rifle twice longer than her. She wondered how her friend would be able to shoot it, but Cranberry immediately told her that it didn’t matter. “It’s quiet,” Party Ring whispered. “Too quiet.” “I can sing a song, if you want.” Custard Cream put her assault rifle on the table and grabbed a guitar. While she did so, the assault rifle somehow fired, blowing a hole in the wall right next to Fortune Cookie’s head. The fillies screamed, but then the mind control kicked in, calming them down. “I wonder why it keeps happening,” Fortune Cookie said, looking at the hole and picking a bullet from it. “They shouldn’t shoot if no one pulls the trigger.” “That’s because some of us have a nasty habit of holding the triggers.” Macaroon replied and pointed her gun at Oat Crisp. “Like you. You keep waving this thing around and you may shoot someone.” She scratched her head with the barrell. “Girls?” Fortune Cookie looked at the door. “I’m pretty sure I can hear–” She was rudely interrupted by the door falling out of its hinges and hitting her. “CAPTAIN COCKNEIGH!” It all happened in a few seconds. Abernethy Biscuit saw some silhouette swinging a lead pipe at Fortune Cookie who screamed and fell on the floor. A couple of vines materialised out of thin air and grabbed Fig Roll and Oat Crisp, knocking their heads against each other. “No!” Abernethy shouted, grabbing her gun and firing. She managed to hit one of the intruders, but a second later, a bright flash of light blinded her. When she regained her vision, she saw two ponies rollerskating past her and jumping into the air. Custard Cream and Macaroon aimed at them, but the ponies landed on their heads, beating them with rollerskates. Fortune Cookie shook her head and stood up, trying to flank the attackers. However, a spell fired from some strange device rendered her unconscious again. Abernethy gasped as she was pulled into the corner of the room by limping Custard Cream and Fig Roll, who could barely see anything due to black eyes. They joined Party Ring, who, like Abernethy, was more or less unscathed. Together, they grabbed whatever weapons they had left and fired them at the attackers. The voice in Abernethy’s head cheered when two attackers fell. The filly scout, however, had no time for celebration. Another bright flash of light and the rollerskating fillies were above them again. Party Ring was crying after a mass of vines took her gun away and tied the barrel into a nice knot. Abernethy barely noticed when Custard Cream got launched into the air by two simultaneous kicks, hit the wall, and fell on the floor limply. In fact, Abernethy had a worse problem. A unicorn filly wearing a mask and a colourful suit was standing in front of her, levitating a lead pipe. Her suit was partially torn, revealing metal plates underneath the fabric. She had a small cut on her face, but apart from that, she was fine and probably really pissed off. Shoot her! Cranberry Crisp’s voice rang in Abernethy’s ears. “No…” Abernethy whispered, her hooves gripping her gun tighter. Come on! Do it! “No I won’t!” Abernethy Biscuit exclaimed. A moment later, the lead pipe fell on her head, sending her to the floor, as well as a happy place where cheerful filly scouts were singing and dancing in the middle of a large wooden hall, waiting for a call to Ragnarok. “What?” Tootsie Flute asked, noticing the stares her companions were giving her. “I told ‘er to drop da gun but she ain’t listen.” “Did she die?” Tagalong asked, poking Abernethy with her hoof. Abernethy groaned, rubbing her head. “I’d say she’s alive,” Peachy Pie said. “I don’t know many corpses who can do that.” Suddenly, they heard a muffled curse. They turned around and saw Twist who got up, groaning. She looked at her armour and tore a fragment of metal from the chest cover. “What are you looking at?” she asked. “They shot me, morons!” “It seems the armour stopped the bullet,” Dinky said. “Yeah, and there’s nothing to worry about.” Tagalong smiled. “They shot me twice and I’m fine.” Twist facehoofed. “Idiots… Remember the plan?” “Umm…” Tootsie looked around at the smashed furniture and unconscious filly scouts. “Knock at da door, wait for ‘em to open, shoot everyone wiff da freezin’ ray?” “Does it look like going according to the plan to you?” Twist asked coldly. Tootsie blushed. “Well, I knocked a bit too hard… And then I panicked.” She grabbed a gun and threw it at the wall, where it went off, almost killing Dinky. “Ya know, I hate guns. If ya can’t kill no one wiff yer bare hooves, ya ‘ave no right to kill ‘em, I fink.” “Then why did you hide that gun in your outfit?” Dinky asked. “Be’er safe dan sorry,” Tootsie replied. “Where’s da rest?” Peachy shrugged. “Yeah, I find it strange that our little display didn’t attract a larger audience. Or maybe we’re just that good…” An alarm went off. Massive metal doors blocked the entrance, while the corridor sunk in darkness, pierced only by blinking red lights. “It seems we’re not,” Sunny Daze muttered. Bon Bon put on a bulletproof vest and stuck a pin with an Equestrian flag in it. She smeared some camo paint on her face and tied her mane with a bandana. Then she grabbed a battle saddle with four heavy machine guns and put it on her back, trying to make the crosshair work while the weight of ammo nearly crushed her spine. Bon Bon shrugged it off and grabbed another belt, this one adorned with several knives, some of them meant for throwing and some of them designed to behead someone before they had a chance to make a noise. Struggling to take a step, Bon Bon strapped a bandolier with grenades to herself and put a radio with a built-in grenade launcher on her back. She then put on her sunglasses and slipped a cigarette pack into a pocket on her chest. “Are you gonna need all this?” Carrot Top asked. “Remember that we’ll have to walk through the town like this and someone may ask questions.” Bon Bon said nothing. She took a step forward and collapsed on the floor, losing half of the equipment. “Also, remember that they’re kids.” Carrot Top walked to another rack full of guns and grabbed a small shotgun. “This will be enough.” Button looked at the screen and blinked. He could hardly see anything – the flashes of explosions, static, and glitches were filling most of the picture. What was worse, one of the microphones apparently got damaged, mangling the sound and catching mostly high-pitched squeals. “What’s going on in there?” Nursery asked, banging her hoof against the screen. It didn’t help much. All they could see was Tootsie grabbing Dinky and squeezing her, sending a barrage of potatoes at the unseen enemies. “Button?” Tagalong’s face appeared on the screen. “Are you there?” Something behind her exploded and the camera got sprayed with thick, grey and red substance. A flash of bright light illuminated it, changing it into a creepy, abstract painting. A moment later, Tagalong smeared it on the camera. “What’s going on?” Button asked. “We have a bit of a situation here,” Tagalong replied. “My friend tried to blow us up with a grenade launcher, but it didn’t work. Now Tootsie is beating the poop out of her, I think.” “She’s beating the what?” Nursery’s eyes widened. Tagalong blushed. “Well, she didn’t exactly say–” An explosion engulfed her, partially melting the camera. The screen flickered, but the sound, although weak, was still discernible. Button could hear a “fwoosh” before Tagalong muttered, “Sorry, gotta go.” “Well, something went wrong,” Nursery said. “We’d better help them before they get killed or worse, caught.” “But how?” Button asked. “I’m not going there, unless we get something heavily armoured.” “Well, there’s that carriage you built.” Nursery Rhyme smiled. “I always wanted you to take me for a ride…” “It’ll take ages to get there.” Button groaned and raised from his seat. “Though if we want to help them, we’d better start now…” Caramel deLite walked slowly down the stairs. Other fillies were fleeing or lying on the floor, groaning and weeping, but not her. She smiled, watching stray bullets fly past her, sending splinters around. Despite the smoke, dust, and noise filling the room, she could see the situation clearly. Most of the filly scouts were defeated. Rah Rah Raisin was cornered, but she was still holding her own, if only by teleporting out of the way of incoming attacks. “Putain de bordel de merde,” Caramel deLite muttered under her breath, summing up the situation pretty nicely. The two rollerskating fillies heard her. As if on a cue, they sped up, preparing to jump up the stairs to reach her. Caramel deLite smirked and levitated a jar of molasses. In a swift motion, she threw it on the floor right under the wheels of the roller skates. “Aargh!” Sunny Daze lost her balance as the wheels got glued to the floor and fell flat on her face. Peachy Pie managed to dodge a puddle of molasses, but it caused her to jump a split second too late and a bit too much to the left. Instead of reaching Caramel deLite, she came into a rather painful contact with the stairs’ railing. Caramel deLite watched as Peachy Pie slid to the floor, holding her stomach. To her surprise, Sunny Daze also groaned in pain, rolling on the ground. “You okay, sis?” Sunny Daze asked, hissing. “I’d be, if Tootsie didn’t try to beat me to death yesterday…” Peachy rubbed her head. “I’ll be fine soon…” “No, you von’t.” Caramel deLite aimed her horn at Peachy and used a tranquilising spell on her. Then she bucked Tootsie, who was sneaking at her, levitating a table. Tootsie hissed, dropping the table on her own head. Another spell flew past Caramel deLite, charring her fur. She raised her head and looked at Twist, who aimed her death ray at her. Caramel smirked, charging her horn. The spell collided in mid-air with Twist’s death ray, sending sparkles around and burning gashes in the wall. One of the stray rays blew a large hole in the floor, leading straight to the basement. Caramel deLite maintained the spell, her fur drenching in sweat quickly. Twist clenched her hooves on the launcher, which started to burn her. Twist’s eyes widened as she looked at her weapon: its crystals lit up, jarring her eyes. With a painful cry, Twist dropped the launcher. The spell hit her armour, throwing her across the room. Steam raised from the plates. Twist fell on the ground like a metal-clad sack of potatoes, and rolled, groaning. “Vho’s next?” Caramel deLite turned to Dinky. “Hov about you, mon ami.... She looked at Dinky closer. “Putain.” “So are you,” Dinky replied, her voice harder and lower than usual. She was holding Rah Rah Raisin upside-down, tangled in vines. One of them was holding filly’s horn, preventing her from teleporting. “Give up, or…” “Or vhat?” Caramel deLite asked. When Dinky spoke, her voice sounded like usual again. “Umm… I’m not sure yet…” “Leave her alone!” Caramel deLite exclaimed. “Or I’ll fry you, you… monstre de la nature!” Tootsie Flute rubbed the back of her head and stood up. She looked at the battlefield, assessing the current situation. A grim smirk appeared on her lips when she saw Rah Rah Raisin. “I’m gonna tell ya what,” Tootsie said, trotting to Caramel deLite. “I’ve seen ‘er doin’ dat before,” she lied. “She ain’t da one for words, but when da vines work, ya’re right said Fred. Like, first, she breaks da ribs. One. By. One.” She punctuated each word with a gentle pat on Caramel’s side. “Den, she squeezes till da mince falls outta sockets an’ roll on da floor. Da best is yet to come…” She chuckled, watching Rah Rah Raisin tremble in fear and Caramel deLite looking at her and shuddering. “She puts ‘er vines inside and plants seeds. Den ya rot underground for years, alive, while potatoes grow in ya…” Caramel deLite opened her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. After a moment of hesitation, she suddenly gave out a powerful scream. She charged her horn, aiming it at the ceiling. Dinky backpedalled, Rah Rah Raisin slipping from her grasp. Tootsie jumped away, covering her head. A lead pipe fell on Caramel deLite’s head. It wasn’t strong enough to knock her down, but enough for her to flinch and unleash her magic at the nearby window. The spell pierced through it as if it was nothing and discharged itself in the Everfree Forest. Caramel deLite staggered and collapsed, panting heavily. “Are you okay?” Tagalong asked, throwing the lead pipe away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–” “Va te faire foutre…” Caramel deLite muttered, her voice raspy. “My head…” “She overexerted ‘erself.” Tootsie chuckled, poking Caramel’s horn. “Not so ping pong now, huh?” “Is everypony okay?” Tagalong asked. “I’m fine.” Dinky cleared her throat and dragged a tied Rah Rah Raisin closer to her. “Tootsie, how did you know I could do that?” “I didn’t,” Tootsie Flute replied. “Ya can? Also, stop doin’ dat fing wiff yer voice. It’s creepy.” Twist groaned and stood up, despite her armour being disabled. “I’m fine, thanks for asking. Though it’ll take a while to reboot… Can anyone contact Button for me?” “Not sure if it’ll ever work.” Peachy walked to Twist, limping on three roller skates. “It got short-circuited, it seems.” She sighed. “Now excuse me, I have to unglue my sister from the floor…” “I guess we’d better find some place to rest and think what to do,” Twist said, clicking something on her armour. “It’s no use storming the upstairs right now.” “Well, well, well…” They turned to the stairs and saw Cranberry Crisp, trotting towards them. One could say that Cranberry Crisp walked down the stairs, but such words wouldn’t match the cat-like grace of her moves. Cranberry Crisp descended from the stairs, clicking her tongue and smiling at the fillies. Caramel deLite, for her age, was strong and magically able. She didn’t need that much of mind control as other fillies to do what Cranberry Crisp wanted her to do. Her natural inclination towards evil, a crooked mind of a soon-to-be psychopath (or a great lawyer) was something Twist and her friends (well, maybe apart from Tootsie) never experienced before. However, even Caramel deLite was no match for Cranberry Crisp. The fact that Cranberry Crisp was older bore almost no meaning in that. In the age when Caramel deLite was playing with matches, Cranberry Crisp already burned down an orphanage. “You have done well,” Cranberry Crisp said. “Don’t you want to join me?” “Such an offer, already?” Twist asked. “We barely met.” That wasn’t an offer. The voice rung inside of Twist’s head, destroying the last traces of resistance. From now on, you’ll listen to me. Simple as that. Twist relaxed, her vision blurring. “Yes, master.” Now, you’re also mine, kid, Cranberry Crips thought, getting inside of Dinky’s mind without any trouble. She made a mental equivalent of looking around and almost sighed in disappointment. After the mind of Twist, which was like a big, crowded town, minds of Sunny and Peachy, baffling her with their bizarre, non-Euclidan symmetry, and a postapocalyptic junkyard filling Tootsie’s head, this one was strangely small. It could be compared to a cosy, yet boring village. Cranberry Crisp felt shiver running down her spine. Something about the village of Dinky’s mind was just plain wrong. It wasn’t that inherent creepiness of an ancient mechanism that was still running, like in case of Peachy and Sunny. It was that feeling one has when they’re in a dark, unfamiliar corridor and hear a lone foal’s cry right behind their backs. Cranberry Crisp scanned all the parts of Dinky’s brain, looking for the Wicker Mare. “Excuse me,” someone said in a deep voice. Cranberry Crisp shuddered and turned around quickly to see… something. Due to the limitations of her mind-controlling abilities, she couldn’t exactly see everything going on in her victim’s head. It was just a mental suggestion of an old-fashioned plaid suit and a yellow turtleneck, slightly smelling of potatoes. “Who are you?” Cranberry Crisp asked, throwing nervous mental glances around. “What are you doing in this mind?” “I would like to ask you the same question, my friend.” There was something in that voice – a subtle hint of green fields outside Trottingham, bathed in the sunlight and gentle breeze. It didn’t soothe Cranberry’s nerves in the slightest. “What are you doing in my mind?” “Your… what?” Cranberry’s eyes widened. “You don’t seem like that kid whose mind I entered. Unless you suddenly developed an accent.” She smirked. “Anyway, get lost. It’s my mind now.” “Well, it’s not exactly my mind.” The voice suddenly rang on the other side of Cranberry Crisp. “The host of this lovely place is actually little Dinky.” “Hello!” Dinky exclaimed, making Cranberry flinch and backpedal. “Nice to meet you!” “However,” the voice continued, “I have no mind on my own, so once I came to this place, Dinky’s mind also became mine… We’re two souls in one body, if you subscribe to Haycartes’ idea of dualism… You know, he also invented a funny useful spell, but that’s not what’s important right now.” “Don’t try to charm me with your eloquence,” Cranberry Crisp replied. “Now I’m the master of this mind and I kindly request–” She bit her tongue. “I want you to get out!” What she heard was a metaphysical equivalent of a chuckle. “Oh, you may not hold my loquacity in a great favour, but even you cannot be unaware of the effect it has on you. I can see that your special talent is making children do what you want… by magical or mundane means. However, a talent is just… a talent.” “What do you mean by such a statement?” Cranberry Crisp asked. “It is my special talent, which means I am superior in performing this kind of–” “But outside of that, you’re just a pony.” The voice chuckled. “Me? I wouldn’t exist without my ability to possess minds, such as this youngling here. Ponies were born to do various things. I was designed to do just that. Let me introduce you to something far more superior than your puny tricks…” The mental walls collapsed on Cranberry Crisp’s head. She screamed, falling on her non-existent knees and trying to rub her temples, only to find that there was nothing there, because she was still in the middle of that strange mind, which was rejecting her and holding her, all at the same time. “Tubby, no!” Dinky’s voice tore through the layers of the mind. Cranberry gasped, feeling her lungs filling with air again. “Leave her alone.” “She was trying to make you her slave,” Tubby replied. “I’m inclined to disagree with you, as far as sparing her is concerned.” “Remember it’s still me who is in control of this body,” Dinky said. “I came close to letting you take it over… But I don’t think this would be a good idea. Not after seeing this.” “You’ll regret this,” Tubby replied. “I can see the insides of her thick skull. If she can’t control us, she’ll try to shoot us.” “I’ll give her a chance.” Dinky looked at Cranberry Crisp who was trying to hide in her own mind. “I won’t.” Tubby’s voice sounded like two metal bars hitting each other. “I’d like to remind you that it’s still my body and my mind,” Dinky said. “If I ever want to grow leaves, I’ll tell you. Remember what you told me about cells? Most of them are mine.” “Not fair,” Tubby muttered. “I’m just a potato.” “Umm… Excuse me…” Cranberry Crisp raised her mental hoof. “I guess I’ll just give you two time to, like, settle this between–” “Go to hell!” Dinky and Tubby yelled simultaneously. It felt like a slap to her face, knocking her out of Dinky’s mind, into the cold, harsh reality. Cranberry staggered, trying to get her bearings. “This… is… hell…” she whispered to herself. She saw an abandoned gun lying on the floor and levitated it, looking for Dinky. The shot echoed through the room. “Not… cool…” Cranberry whispered, feeling pain spreading from her chest. She collapsed and fell through the hole in the floor with a sickening crunch. Bon Bon blew the smoke from the shotgun’s barrel and pulled the forend. A spent case bounced off the floor a few times, making what seemed like the loudest sound in the universe. “Not cool, indeed,” Carrot Top said. “Couldn’t you, like, warn her?” “What for?” Bon Bon asked. “She was about to shoot that kid.” A loud groan came from the hole in the floor. Bon Bon saw some of the fillies in front of her blink and slowly wake up, hearing it. “And what’s worse, you missed,” Carrot Top muttered. “I keep telling you the heart is not as far to the left as you imagine.” “It was a rubber bullet, you moron.” Bon Bon sighed. “Listen, Golden, I woke you up, which is already against the rules. We both, despite being made redundant, intervened without the council’s approval. As a result, we have only a few hours to repair all the damage and neuralise about…” She made a quick count. “Thirty kids. And maybe everyone in town, just to be sure. Oh, and your ‘kids’ are both runaways from the lab and I’m pretty sure the lab guys would like to find their lost P0T4T0 chip, which happens to be here.” She pointed at Dinky. “I’m pretty sure the cleaning team is already on the way.” “So?” Carrot Top furrowed her eyebrows. “I can’t see the connection.” “When they come here, we have to give them something, or they’ll feed us to the lab rats,” Bon Bon replied. “And those are pretty large rats, you know.” She looked at Tagalong, who just stood up, rubbing her head. “From what I’ve read in my sister’s notes, this kid is potentially an Euclid-class anomaly, but I’d rather not give her to dr. Moondancer…” “So you’re gonna give them Cranberry Crisp…” Carrot Top nodded. “That’s still low.” “Better than giving them a kid.” Bon Bon pulled out a magic blocker – a metal ring with pink fur on it. “It’s Lyra’s,” she muttered, seeing the glance Carrot Top was giving her. She then trotted to the hole in the floor and looked down. “I have an offer for you.” “And I have a broken rib and at least one leg,” Cranberry Crisp replied. “Would you kindly hurry?” “You’ll be given a comfortable room in an underground facility, where you’ll stay, meeting various nice ponies with test tubes and counters that go ‘beep’ when you least expect it. There, they’ll keep you in case a pony who can control large groups of foals is needed. How does that sound to you?” It took Cranberry Crisp a while to answer. “What are the other options?” “If you have a good lawyer, twenty-five years in prison for attempted, illegal spellcasting, mind-controlling a minor, and betraying the ideals of the filly scouts of Equestria. Five mares in a cell, some of whom may have uniform fetish.” “What is uniform fetish?” one of the filly scouts asked. They were currently herded together by Carrot Top, Sunny Daze, and Peachy Pie. “You’ll see in a few years.” Bon Bon turned back to the hole in the floor. “So, which option do you choose?” “I’ll fulfill my patriotic duty and choose that underground facility,” Cranberry Crisp replied. “Just get me outta here and, dunno, call a doctor?” “Clever girl.” Bon Bon took a grappling hook and lowered herself to Cranberry Crisp. On the other side of the room, Carrot Top looked at the filly scouts gathered together. Tootsie sat by her side, giving nasty glances to Caramel deLite, who wrapped her hoof around Rah Rah Raisin. “Okay, girls.” Carrot Top smiled, sweating a bit. “Let’s play a game.” She grabbed a silver, pen-like device and raised it. “Take a look here…” She clicked the button on the device. For a moment, the fillies were engulfed in bright light and after it disappeared, they stood still. “There,” Carrot Top muttered. “This whole thing with guns and stuff never happened and you all just had a lovely trip to the forest, which explains all those cuts, bruises, and what looks like an open fracture. After the trip, you had a sleepover here. Oh, and your scoutmaster, Cranberry Crisp, never existed. I was your scoutmaster all the time.” “Yeah.” Tootsie Flute pointed Caramel deLite and Rah Rah Raisin. “Ya should hug ‘er more. And ya should get a speech therapist. It does wonders, just look at Twist. Oh, and ya ain’t wanna kill no one anymore.” “Tootsie!” Carrot Top exclaimed. “You can’t use it to alter somepony’s personality!” “I just saved some potent orphanage from bein’ burnt,” Tootsie muttered. “I believe the word you’re looking for is ‘potential’,” Twist said. She had removed part of her armour and was now examining the wires carefully. “Also, we’re gonna get zapped too anyway.” “You’re not gonna get zapped,” Bon Bon said, emerging from the hole in the floor, holding Cranberry Crisp. “But since the cleaning crew is about to arrive, you’d better act as if you were.” “Why?” Tootsie asked. “I’ll tell you later,” Bon Bon replied. “‘Ave ya zapped me before?” “Umm…” Bon Bon thought of a warm, summer day a few years before, when little Tootsie stormed her and Lyra’s bedroom without knocking and learned (for a few minutes) about some creative uses of a toothbrush. “Of course not!” “I can hear someone’s coming,” Carrot Top said. “I guess it’s the cleaning crew.” The door opened. “We’re here to save you!” Button exclaimed, jumping inside. Nursery trotted behind him and froze, seeing Bon Bon. “Of course,” Bon Bon muttered. “Twist, Tootsie, and now you. Though you’ll at least be useful.” She pointed at the filly scout with what looked like an open fracture. “Fix that kid’s leg.” “How about me?” Button asked, lowering his head, partially to cover the fact that upon seeing the open fracture, his stomach petitioned for the immediate removal of its contents. “Think of something to fix that hole in the floor,” Bon Bon replied. “Also, Dinky and this kid…” “Ginger Snap,” Tagalong replied. “Though I prefer Tagalong.” Bon Bon rolled her eyes. “Okay. Dinky and Ginger Snap, get out. If I could recognise you as anomalies, the cleaning guys will do that too. Sunny, Peachy, make sure they get home. You two are also on the agency’s list. Tootsie, go home and wait for me there.” Tootsie gulped. “I’m grounded, innit?” “For at least two hundred years,” Bon Bon replied. “And as for Twist and Nursery, I believe we’ll need to have a talk with Mom…” Twist froze. “Anything but that…” “Should I talk to our granny, then?” Twist shuddered. “Mom seems fine, then.” “Good.” Bon Bon smiled. “Now, move faster. We don’t have much time to cover all that…” The first rays of the rising sun fell through the window of the filly scouts’ clubhouse. Caramel deLite stretched her limbs and sat on the mattress. The floor looked much newer than the day before, but Caramel didn’t pay attention to that. She looked around and spotted Rah Rah Raisin, who was sitting by the wall, hiding her face in her hooves. “Ca va?” Caramel deLite asked, trotting to her friend. “I… I h-had a b-bad d-dream,” Rah Rah Raisin replied. Caramel deLite sat next to her and wrapped her hoof around her in a protective gesture. “But it was just a dream, no?” Caramel deLite looked at some object jammed between two floorboards. It was a spent 0.45 casing, but neither of the fillies knew what was its purpose or how it’d gotten there. “Y-yeah,” Rah Rah Raisin relaxed in her friend’s hooves and leaned her head against Caramel’s shoulder. “D-do you th-think I should g-get a speech th-therapy?” “I like you even without it, my petit chou fleur,” Caramel deLite replied. “But if you want, go with it.” “I will,” Rah Rah Raisin whispered, yawning. Caramel deLite patted her mane and looked at the rising sun.