//------------------------------// // It's Your Funeral - An Awesome Funeral // Story: Written Off // by Georg //------------------------------// An Awesome Funeral “Do you think both Princess Celestia and Princess Luna will come to the funeral?” asked Sweetie Belle, keeping her voice down as she fidgeted. There was a large collection of chairs and cushions being set up out on the grass in the town square, including two large cushions, both dark and light. The three little ponies peering out of the attic window of the Carousel Boutique contemplated for a while before Apple Bloom spoke up. “Ah think so.” She pointed at the distant thread of smoke still floating up in the distance. “I reckon the explosion was visible from Canterlot.” “I bet it was awesome!” declared Scootaloo. “I wish we had gotten a camera to take a picture.” “We were a little busy being upside-down in the gully,” said Sweetie Belle. “I told you we should have put seat belts on our rocket-sled.” “Ah’m kinda glad we didn’t,” declared Apple Bloom. “If’n we had, we woulda still been strapped in that contraption when it went into Ghastly Gorge.” There was a very long silence between the three friends, broken only by the distant rumble of thunder. “At least Rainbow Dash quit kicking that cloud,” said Scootaloo, taking a cautious peek out of the window. “It’s still echoing a little.” “Rarity’s downstairs in her room,” said Sweetie Belle. “I can still hear her crying.” “Ah don’t see Applejack nor none of my family anywhere,” said Apple Bloom, taking another peek out of the window. “Do you think they’re still at the crash site?” “Probably.” Scootaloo began to fidget as much as Sweetie Belle. “We are in so much trouble.” “It’s only going to get worse the longer we take to tell them,” said Apple Bloom. “Ah don’t think they’ll keep us from seeing each other. Right?” “I don’t want to take the chance,” said Scootaloo, slumping down on the floor of the attic and holding her hooves over her ears. “I mean all of us came up with the idea of building a rocket sled, but Applejack can get so protective. Remember when she wanted to keep you in your room and we provided cover so you could deliver those pies?” “And my big sister freaks out so much when I even get a little dirty or burnt just a little bit,” said Sweetie Belle. “She’ll lock me up and I’ll never see you two again.” “We still gotta tell ‘em sometime,” said Apple Bloom. “It’s not like we can run away to Manehattan and stay with Babs for the rest of our lives, change our names, and never see our families again.” “That seems oddly specific,” said Sweetie Belle. “Ah had some time to think when we were digging ourselves out of that gully,” said Apple Bloom. The three close friends slumped together into a semblance of a hug, most likely the last physical contact they would get with each other for the rest of their lives. Finally, after a bit of sniffing, Scootaloo said, “It’s too bad we can’t watch the funeral from up here. I’ll bet it would be awesome.” Apple Bloom sniffed back a few tears and added, “Big Mac might even say more than two words.” “Rarity says black makes her look fat,” said Sweetie Belle. “But I’ll bet she wears a ton of it.” They remained quiet and thoughtful for a while, listening to the occasional rumble of thunder as dark overcast clouds were brought in to deepen the mood in town. After taking a deep breath, Apple Bloom said, “I think Sweetie should tell Rarity first. She’s just downstairs.” “No way,” said Sweetie Belle. “She’ll freak out. She needs somepony brave to support her during her time of stress, like Rainbow Dash. Scootaloo should tell her first.” “Totally un-cool,” said Scootaloo. “Rainbow would probably cry, and that would totally ruin her reputation around town. I think Apple Bloom should tell her sister first.” “She’s gonna tan my hide!” said Apple Bloom. “That is unless some kind and gentle pony like Rarity can talk her out of it first.” The three of them took a mutual deep breath and a deep sigh before Sweetie Belle asked, “Just how much trouble do you think we’re in, anyway?” “Lots,” said Applejack. Three little fillies slowly turned their heads and looked over at the narrow staircase that extended up into the Carousel Boutique attic. Three much older and significantly more upset adult sisters looked back. “So, does this mean we can’t watch our own funerals?” asked Scootaloo.