Lyra ran through the streets of Ponyville, her stomach churning with fear and anticipation. She had to admit, she was rather enjoying the feeling of being able to run without being weighed down by so much excess weight for a change. Ponies briefly looked up from their meals to observe her as she rushed past them, unused to seeing anypony move at a speed above a brisk waddle anymore.
Lyra tried to quell her nerves by reassuring herself that everything would be okay. Bon Bon was a secret agent who'd been trained to tackle monsters from the literal pits of Tartarus—she'd be able to tangle with Hotshot no problem. On top of that, once Princess Twilight was aware of what Hotshot had done, there really would be nowhere for him to go. If royalty itself was after you, the only thing you could hope to do was delay the inevitable.
Even with all her reassurances, Lyra still felt very anxious as the distinctive crystal castle where Twilight resided came into view. She had no idea what to say to her, but she'd figure out something.
The door of the castle lay open, and Lyra rushed through it and started searching for the Princess. The entrance hall was empty, and so was the throne room. Panicking, Lyra ran up a long flight of stairs and deeper into the castle.
"Hello?" she called out. "Princess Twilight, are you here? Hello? I need help, please!"
"Spiiiiike, could you get that?" came a heavy voice from behind a door to her left. Lyra skidded to a halt and swiveled around.
"Uuuuuughhh, fiiiiiiine," moaned another, slightly deeper voice. This was followed by a short series of heavy, shuffling steps, before the door slowly creaked open to reveal Spike, who Lyra recognised as Twilight's assistant/aide-de-camp. His wide, fleshy hips nearly filled the entire doorway, his large scaly belly hanging out in front of him like a medicine ball. A pair of flabby moobs had formed around his chest, and his cheeks and neck had all puffed up, too. Spike panted from the exertion of dragging himself across the room and stared at Lyra with dull eyes.
"Whaddaya want?" he mumbled.
Lyra swallowed. "I need to speak to Princess Twilight right away. It's an emergency!"
"What kind of emergency? Is this anything to do with our pizza being late?" Spike asked.
"Um..." Lyra thought quickly. "...Yes," she lied. "I, ah, need to speak to Princess Twilight concerning the status of her pizza order. Very important."
"Alright, but you'd better have good news for her. Neither of us have eaten for nearly half an hour now," Spike muttered, stepping aside to let Lyra through.
Twilight lay on a queen-sized bed, her fat spilling over the sides like she was an outsized purple bedspread. Empty pizza boxes were piled haphazardly around her bed, and a combined stench of pepperoni, cheese and old sweat hung in the air. With some manoeuvering, the princess pulled herself into a sitting position so she could look at Lyra properly.
"Hel-" She cut herself off as a large burp erupted from her throat. "Oh, excuse me. Hello there. Did I overhear you say something about the pizza-"
Twilight was cut off again, this time by Lyra using her magic to fling a pear into her mouth. At the same moment, she pressed down hard on Spike's toes, shoving another pear into his maw as he yelled in pain.
With two near-simultaneous popping sounds, both Twilight and Spike's excess weight disappeared in a split second, leaving Twilight laying in a daze on her sweat-soaked bedsheets and Spike face down on the floor.
"Sorry," Lyra quickly said to Spike, before rushing to the Princess's bedside. "Your Highness, please! I need your help! We all need your help!"
"I'm listening," Twilight groaned, rubbing her aching temples.
Hurriedly, Lyra relayed the entire tale to Twilight—how Hotshot had gotten the whole town addicted, how he'd extorted her and Bon Bon, her work as his delivery mare, the incident with the pears, how Bon Bon had told her to come to Twilight for help. The whole time, Twilight listened to her with an expression of grim severity. When Lyra had finished, Twilight got to her hooves.
"What Hotshot has done," she said slowly, "is just about unforgivable. I can't fathom the selfishness, the disregard for equine life, it takes to enslave an entire town for one's own personal gain. You can rest assured, Lyra, that I will see to it that he faces the full extent of the law."
"You're going to stop him, then?" Lyra asked pleadingly.
Twilight bared her teeth and flared out her wings menacingly. "I'm going to head over there right now. Spike, I need you to... Spike?"
Spike was just sitting in one spot, his eyes wide, his mouth slightly agape, his knees tucked under his chin as he rocked back and forth slowly.
"Spike?" Twilight said worriedly. "Are you alright?"
Spike held up a claw. "I," he said in a slow monotone, "am going to take a shower. And then, I'm going to go cry myself to sleep."
"Um, okaaay," Twilight said slowly. "But listen, before you do that, I need you to send a letter to Princess Celestia. Tell her everything that Lyra just told me, and how we need a team of Royal Guards down here to bring Hotshot into custody."
Spike nodded. "Okay," he mumbled, "okay, I'll do it."
Twilight quickly composed the letter to him. Once he had it sent off, Twilight turned to Lyra.
"I think I'm long overdue to pay Hotshot a visit for myself."
With that, Twilight vanished in a flash of light.
"Wait!" Lyra called after her, only to realise too late that she was gone. She groaned.
"You could at least have told me where the exit was..." she grumbled.
As she ran towards Hotshot's, Bon Bon couldn't help but think of how similar this all was to the climax of a spy movie: the agent without a cause, bending the rules to settle a personal score. And this score was most definitely personal. Hotshot had stripped her not only of her business, but her dignity, along with the entire town.
As she approached Hotshot's Grill, she gave her utility belt one last look over. Grappling hook, flash grenades, taser—all her standard equipment. It wasn't much, but if she could get the jump on Hotshot, it would be all she needed.
Her plan was to execute a simple "smash and grab" technique. She'd go around to the back of the restaurant and move through the rear entrance to the kitchen, where Hotshot would most likely be cooking. She'd throw a flash grenade in to stun him, then quickly move in to tase him and subdue him. Quick and clean.
Bon Bon reached the rear of the restaurant. The coast looked clear. She got into position by the rear entrance and pulled a flash grenade from her belt. She took a breath to steady her nerves for the throw.
One... two... three.
Bon Bon pushed the door open just wide enough to throw the grenade in before slamming it shut again. About a second later, a loud BANG! was heard from inside, and a bright flash of light was visible through the gap between the door and the floor. Immediately, Bon Bon kicked the door wide open and rushed in, ready to make the grab.
The kitchen was empty.
Bon Bon was stunned. She had just enough time to register that there was nopony there before a pair of hooves grabbed her from behind and slammed her head into the wall, before brutally throwing her to the ground.
For a moment, all Bon Bon was aware of was the splitting pain in her skull. Her swimming vision gradually focused itself to reveal that she was staring up at none other than...
"You?" Hotshot gasped, looking utterly bewildered. "How in the hay did you..."
"Like I'd tell you," Bon Bon spat. "It's over, Hotshot. You're finished, and so is your restaurant business."
Hotshot's surprised expression twisted into a sneer. "Oh, please," he snorted. "I don't know how you managed to break the effects of my special ingredient, but I can easily turn you back." He reached behind his back to produce another cookie, practically shining with fat. "And once I do, you're going to tell me exactly what you did, so I can ensure this doesn't happen again."
"Never," Bon Bon grunted.
Hotshot smirked. "Oh, Bon Bon," he said condescendingly. "Right from the day I met you, you always played hard ball. Well, two can play at that game."
Without warning or preamble, Hotshot brutally slammed a hoof into Bon Bon's solar plexus. Bon Bon gasped in agony as all the air was expelled from her lungs. Immediately, Hotshot shoved the cookie into her mouth, using his hooves to force her jaws to chew it before sitting back with a satisfied smile on his face.
Bon Bon was crushed. It was over for her before it had even begun. All she could do now was pray that Lyra had cured Princess Twilight and that she could stop Hotshot before it was too late.
Then Bon Bon realised something. She wasn't hungry. Not at all. Surely the cookie should have reduced her to a ravenous mess by now? Slowly, she got to her hooves, a tremendous, triumphant smile spreading across her face as she realised what was happening.
The pears hadn't just cured her. They'd immunised her.
Hotshot stared at her with his jaw hanging open in disbelief, before shock gave way to barely-contained fury.
"What did you do?" he whispered.
Bon Bon smirked at him. Checkmate, you son of a mule.
"I said, what did you do?!" Hotshot screamed, finally losing his slippery cool for the first time. With a roar of pure rage, he lunged at Bon Bon with his hooves flailing.
Bon Bon easily dodged Hotshot's clumsy attack, before counterattacking by slamming her back hooves into Hotshot's side. Hotshot yelled in pain, but adrenaline is a great painkiller and he remained standing. He threw himself at Bon Bon again from behind, wrapping his forelegs around her neck in an attempt to pull her into a stranglehold. Bon Bon twisted and writhed desperately, repeatedly kicking at Hotshot with her back hooves in an attempt to get him to lose his grip, but Hotshot held firm as he continued to choke her out.
After a few seconds, Hotshot felt Bon Bon's body go limp. Grinning maniacally and laughing, he let her fall to the floor, where she lay still.
"You stupid filly," he spat, bending over her and addressing the back of her head. "Who the buck do you think you are, huh? Nopony can stop me now, you hear me? N-"
Bon Bon's head pushed upwards with explosive force, the rear of her skull smashing against Hotshot's nose. Hotshot howled in agony and staggered backwards into the cupboards behind him. Bon Bon leaped to her hooves once again, before unhooking her taser from her belt and turning towards Hotshot with blazing fury in her eyes. With a final shout of rage, she turned the taser to its highest voltage setting and jammed it against Hotshot's neck.
Hotshot made a gurgling sound as the electricity arced through his nervous system. His legs buckled, and he finally fell unconscious to the ground. Breathing heavily, Bon Bon made sure he was out cold before unclipping her shades from her belt and donning them.
"I always did like my food extra crispy," she said smugly.
Twilight Sparkle was standing outside Hotshot's Grill with both Lyra and Bon Bon. Accompanying them were half a dozen royal guards sent from Canterlot to take Hotshot into custody. Two were pulling a prisoner's carriage that two others were loading a manacled and furiously swearing Hotshot into, while the other two stood behind Twilight, carrying several foodstuffs from the restaurant in plastic bags with the word "EVIDENCE" printed on them.
"Well, you two," Twilight said, "I think it's fair to say that Ponyville is in your debt. Without you discovering a cure, Lyra, and you so bravely restraining Hotshot, Bon Bon, we would still be helplessly gorging ourselves right now."
"Thank you, Your Highness," Bon Bon and Lyra both said, unable to conceal their proud smiles.
"But what about everypony else in town?" Lyra asked, looking worried. "There aren't nearly enough pears around here to cure them all, and there are so many poor ponies still trapped in their homes."
Twilight smiled. "Don't worry, we've got that covered, too."
"Indeed we do," came a new voice from above them, as a magnificent white alicorn descended to join them.
"Princess Celestia!" Lyra and Bon Bon blurted, both of them scrambling into curtseys.
Celestia chuckled. "Let's not stand on formality, my little ponies," she said soothingly. "As Twilight said, I have a solution to this particular problem."
"What's that?" Lyra asked.
"When I saw how Twilight described the town's plight in her letter, I immediately recognised it as the effects of blubbercup poisoning," Celestia explained. "Ever since the griffons tried to use it to weaken the Royal Guard a century ago, I decided it would be prudent to research a countermeasure should it be needed in the future. I think this ought to do the trick."
With that, Princess Celestia gave a flap of her wings and rose high above them. Her horn glowed with an aura as bright as the sunrise, before emitting a bright golden wave of magic that radiated over the entire town and outskirts. Whoever the wave passed over was immediately shrunken back down to their normal sizes, from before their first fateful bites. One by one, ponies who until seconds ago had not been able to walk emerged from their homes on shaky legs for the first time in weeks.
"And as for Hotshot," Celestia said, as she descended once again, "you can rest assured that his deeds will not go unpunished. You two should be very proud," she added, smiling warmly at Lyra and Bon Bon. "On behalf of the Equestrian Crown, I thank you."
On that note, Celestia flew upwards and soared off towards Canterlot.
"Bon Bon..." Lyra stammered. "We just got praised by Celestia herself! Oh my gosh, that is so frigging amazing!" she squealed delightedly.
"What?" Twilight said, filling her voice with mock outrage. "Doesn't my praise count for anything?"
All three ponies laughed heartily, simply relieved to have their ordeal behind them. It had been a very degrading time for them all, but with Hotshot arrested and the townsponies cured, they could finally start to pick up the pieces.
San Palomino Detention Facility, three months later.
Hotshot—prisoner 200595, as he was also known now—lay on his cot, staring up at the slate grey roof of his prison cell. Almost everything in the cell was the same shade of grey, his bright orange jumpsuit and white blanket and pillow providing the only hint of colour.
With all the evidence against him that had been found in the restaurant, along with statements from just about every damn pony in Ponyville, it had taken the jury less than an hour to find him guilty of multiple counts of possession of a controlled substance with intent to sell, multiple counts of public endangerment, and to top it off, multiple counts of deceptive advertising. He'd been sentenced to life, and wouldn't be up for parole for at least thirty years. At least the fact that he'd brought an entire town to its knees had given him enough credibility that the other prisoners didn't give him too much hassle, but nothing could soothe the sting of the humiliation he felt at having his master plan brought crashing down around him.
One thing about prison was that it gave him way too much time to think. He'd spent the first few weeks of his sentence pondering how he could have failed like this with such a foolproof plan. Eventually, he'd concluded that a business was not the impenetrable fortress he thought it could be. Rather, a business was more like a house of cards—you could build it as large as you wanted, but one slip would always be enough to send it all crashing down. Hotshot hadn't even considered the possibility of somepony finding a cure for the blubbercup essence, and that crucial error had cost him his business and his freedom.
His confidence had been what made his business grow, and his confidence ultimately led to his downfall. He sighed. Somehow, that felt appropriate.
THE END