//------------------------------//
// Newbie Dash 
// Story: A Dream 
// by totallynotabrony 
//------------------------------//

	Trixie, Daring, and Cordoba met John Cena in an Olive Garden on the south side of Chicago.  They’d found a convenient gift card above the sunvisor in Valiant’s car.
He was dressed neatly, though seemed rather bulky under his clothes.  He smiled and politely introduced himself.  “It’s good to meet you.  I must say, though, very unexpected.”
“It was a short notice trip,” Trixie acknowleged.
“Where are you from?” John asked.  “He mentioned you, but said you were far away.”
“A small town called Ponyville,” said Cordoba.
“I’m from a small town, too,” said John.  He chuckled.  “In Massachusetts, of all places.”
“What brings you to Chicago?” Daring asked.  “It’s quite a coincidence that we were able to meet here.”
“It’s a business trip,” said John.  “You?”
“Likewise,” Trixie replied.  “We’re headed for Washington, D.C.  We’re hunting something my dad left for us to find.”
“Oh really?”  John looked interested.  “I have a lot of contacts.  Maybe I can help.”
They exchanged information.  John didn’t have any ideas as to the significance of Columbia or the number seventy eight million fifty one thousand one hundred twenty, but promised to be on the lookout.
Another rather bulky man approached.  John shielded his face with his hand until the other man had passed by.  “He can’t see me.”
He then gave the three of them a confident smile and got up.  “CM Punk!”
The other man turned.  “Cena!”
A dozen other rather bulky men from all around the restaurant got up, ripping off their clothes and shouting threats.  Spotlights and smoke filled the air.  A distinctive riff on trumpets played.
The whole restaurant broke out in a brawl.  Had they been Kung Fu masters, everybody would have been Kung Fu fighting.  But instead, they were “wrestlers” and so were “wrestling.”
Trixie, Daring, and Cordoba glanced at the spectacle.  Cordoba took a sip of her coffee and turned to the contact book they’d found in the car.  “Who’s next on this list?”
Trixie consulted the book.  “The next entry is ‘Eli Roth,’ but it’s been scratched out and marked ‘deceased.’  The next one after that is ‘Stan Turner.’”
There didn’t seem to be any wait staff around to accept payment, so they took the gift card with them and left, walking around the grappling men.
An older, slightly less bulky man intercepted them.  “You can’t leave!  We’re just getting ready to rumble!”
Cordoba kicked him in the nuts and they left.
Speaking of ready to rumble, in Ponyville, the Bearers of the Elements of Harmony were dealing with a huge, stompy Godzilla-esqe thing.
At least until Lightning Dust showed up and said, “Hey Rainbow, we need you for the Wonderbolts.”
Rainbow paused.  “Really?”
“After Firefly deceived us to further her own goals of overthrowing the government with the other pink and purple ponies a while back, we reorganized.  You should totally join us.  We’re cool.”
“Okay.”  Rainbow shrugged and flew off with Lighting.
“Did she just-” said Twilight.  Speechlessly, she gestured at the sort-of-Godzilla-thing they were currently fighting.
“Hey everyone,” interrupted a pale blue earth pony with a pink mane.  “What’s going on here?”
“We’re kind of busy,” Twilight retorted.  “There’s this giant monster, you see.”
“Cool.” the pony nodded.  “I’m new around these parts.”
“Not to be rude, but this is a potentially life-threatening situation and I don’t really have time for small talk,” Twilight said.  “Look, I’ll get back to you…?”
“Cracker.”
Twilight looked at her cutie mark, a saltine.  Made sense.  “Okay Cracker, I’ll get back to you.”
“I’d just love to help.”
Twilight paused.  “Do you think you could go make sure everypony’s all right in town?  The monster smashed a few buildings.”
“Go into Ponyville?  I heard the SOS infiltrated town.  Aren’t they one of the groups that’s trying to gain control of Equestria?”
“Yes-wait, one of?”
Cracker crammed her hooves over her mouth.  “Oops.”
Twilight looked at the monster and then back at Cracker.  “If I wasn’t busy, I would have serious questions for you to answer right this instant.  As it is...don’t leave town.”
Back on Earth, specifically on the internet, the headline on a clickbait news website read This Random Chick Just Kicked Vince McMahon in the Nuts.  
The full text of said article could be pasted here, but text-based is boring so we’ll now go live to TMZ’s Haley Olivert.
“Hey, how’s everyone doing?,” Haley said, not really caring.  “The big news tonight is about the WWE’s Mama Mia Massacre, taking place in an Italian restaurant in Chicago.”
The clip behind her changed to show the Olive Garden.  The irony was lost.
“In a completely unscripted moment, a young girl coming out of the building assaulted WWE CEO Vince McMahon, putting the smackdown on him with a single kick to the testicles.”
A shaky cell phone video showed the moment in all its gloriousness, though the effect was dampened somewhat by the grainy picture and vertical format.
Back to Haley.  “So it looks like the south side of Chicago really is the baddest part of town.  Authorities are seeking this girl and would like any information the public can provide.”
“So we’d like to hear any information you can provide,” said Wind Rider, speaking to Rainbow Dash from the Wonderbolts’ HQ.
“I mean, Valiant’s dead.  What else is there?” said Rainbow.
“I was hoping you could tell us,” said Wind Rider.  “We’ll need all the information we can get to pull off our plan.”
“What plan?” Rainbow asked.
Wind Rider looked around at the rest of the team: Lightning Dust, Whiplash, and Night Glider.  “We’re restoring the Wonderbolts to their former glory.  It’ll take some doing to convince the government to reinstate the team, but we’ll do whatever we have to.”
“Nice.  Count me in,” said Rainbow.  “I mean, you’re practically already there.  You set up in this sweet base with the locker rooms and fancy flight suits and jackets left over from the decommissioned team.”
“Don’t you want to hear our plan?” Wind Rider asked.
“Less planning, more jamming.”  Rainbow grinned.  “This is going to be awesome.  I’m not only going to be a Wonderbolt, but I’ll be part of the very first new team.  I thought this dream was dead.  Screw you, Valiant.”
“I’m glad we’re united in our scorn for him,” Wind Rider said.  “That’s part of why we’re doing this.”
Back in Ponyville, Tin Mare had exhausted her ammunition and come in for a landing.  Deciding most of the danger was past, Braeburn went over to talk with her.
“I have discovered further evidence of the so-called Love Meister,” she informed him.  “While flying, I discovered a threatening message had been painted on a roof.”
“Just what we need, another crazy running around.”  Braeburn shook his head and quoted from the Love Meister’s announcement message.  “‘Enslaving ponies with the power of love.’”
“What would happen if you were enslaved by love?” Tin Mare asked.
“Huh?  I don’t know.  It’s never happened before.”
“I would like to plan ahead for such a contingency,” said Tin Mare.  “Should you be turned into a raging hormonal sex machine, please mind where you put your genitals.  Some of my parts are quite sharp.”
“W-why are we talking about this?”
“Braeburn, I have come to the conclusion that you are attracted to me.  If affected by an as-yet unidentified love substance, I believe it is not impossible that you may attempt to have sex with me.  That would hella not end well.”
Braeburn kept sputtering.
Taking a different tack, Tin Mare said, “Braeburn, there’s something I need to ask you.”
“Um.  Sure.  Yeah.”
“Could you please load a few laser guided bombs onto my hardpoints?  I need to go back to the fight.”
Somewhere in northwest Indiana, Trixie, Daring, and Cordoba were headed southeast.  They had no particular plans to be in Indiana, it was just one of those states that one simply can’t avoid when driving cross country.  They were listening to a comedy tape by Heywood Banks that they’d found in the car.
That was when a cell phone began to ring.
The three of them traded glances and started looking around for the source of the noise.  Daring eventually found it beneath the passenger seat.  She stared at the glowing screen of the smartphone and poked the inviting green button that was labeled “answer.”
“Hello,” said a female voice.
“Um, hello,” Daring replied.
“I hear that you need some help.”
Trixie and Cordoba were trying to crowd closer to the phone to listen in.
Daring said, “Maybe.  Depends on who you are.”
“It does, doesn’t it?  But I think you’ll be very interested in what I have to say.  We should meet.  Let’s say...Cleveland, tomorrow.”
“We’ll be there!” Cordoba said.
There was a dial tone as the call disconnected.
“Well, that was strange,” said Trixie.
She didn’t know the half of it.
North of Seattle, a scattering of islands along the coast endured the wind coming in over the ocean and grey clouds overhead.
One island in particular had a disused sea plane port, tucked away in a cove.  On the hill overlooking the facility, a closed hospital loomed.  It hadn’t seen a patient in more than forty years and looked the part.  The basement was terrifying.
Cher put her phone away and came outside.  She looked towards the water and motioned to an underling.  “Get the plane ready.  I think we finally have the weapon we need.”