//------------------------------// // Adoption Papers // Story: Scootaloo's Chaotic Family // by Schrodinger's Pony //------------------------------// There once was a Pegasus filly with shocking purple hair, and a coat of orange. True orange, not light orange, or dark orange, but the perfect expression of orange; orange to its fullest potential. Thankfully, her parents were no slouches when it came to the naming department, and refused to name her anything beginning with ‘O’ or ending in ‘range’. Instead, they named her Scootaloo. Why? Because they figured it was a fun sounding name. Anywho, on the particular day this story began, Scootaloo was hanging out in the tree-house where she lived. Most ponies who lived in tree-houses actually had trees for houses, but Scootaloo’s tree-house was a house on top of a tree. Not surprisingly, the tree was grateful for not having its bowls removed so that a creature could live inside its corpse, and it repaid its kindness by making sure the poorly constructed tree-house didn’t fall. The house used to me made by the fine sturdy hooves of Sweet Apple Acres’ number on stallion big Macintosh. He and his sister used it as a club house when they were foals. Now though, three new foals had moved in, and upon finding the club house to be in a state of old age decided to make a few improvements, several of which should have violated the laws of physics but seemed to have worked out well. Scootaloo lived in this tree house, because she didn’t have any parents. By which I mean, she had parents, but now she didn’t. That’s a polite way of saying they’re dead. Six feet under. Pushing up daisies, long gone, riding the train to Pegasus heaven, to that sweet corral in the sky… Lost in the CIRCLE OF LIIIIIIIIIIIIFE!!!!! Sorry, there are no polite ways of saying dead, are there? Back to the story at hand, Scootaloo’s folks had died soon after she was born. Sometime a year ago, Scootaloo realized that living in an orphanage was boring, and stinky, and it sucked. So she ran away to ponyville. Thankfully, Scootaloo had a couple of friends to look after her. Apple Bloom, the younger sister of the aforementioned Applejack and Big Macintosh, and Sweetie Belle, the younger sister of Applejack’s friend Rarity. These friends took her to school with them, had fun with her, and sometimes let her have sleepovers with them, which was great fun for Scootaloo, and her stomach, which was starving to death most of the time and doing its best to bring Scootaloo down with it. On the day of our story, Scootaloo wasn’t paying much attention to her psychotic stomach, and was instead focused on the treasonous rebellion of her eyes. They were crying all over her nice clean fur, and she couldn’t get them to stop. The reason behind this, was her eyes seemed to agree with one of her friends. She’d gotten into a pretty heavy argument with Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom that day. Heated words were exchanged, blows were swung, and in the end, Cheerilee had to cut their field trip short because they were being so unruly. Cheerilee had threatened to tell their parents. That’s how bad it got. Cheerilee never threatened anypony with their parents. So Scootaloo was sitting in her house on the tree, W-A-I-L-I-N-G. But somepony was attracted to her wailing that day, that would change her entire life. Yes! Who should hear her cries for help and poke his head into her clubhouse, but the handsome! The magnificent! The Lord of Chaos! The King of Comedy! The Tyrant of Trash-talk! The Sultan of Slapstick! The Punjab of Punchlines! The One and only Discord! Incredibly handsome master of insanity! Yes, alright, I have a bit of an ego. Yes, a substantial ego. Are you done laughing? You’re done laughing. Good. Okay. No, you can go ahead and laugh a bit more if you want, I’ll wait. Finished? May I continue? Thank you. Anyway, Discord, the great and powerful no matter what you say, poked his head through the window, curious as to who could be crying. As much as he relished the tears of children, he was a bit put-off that he hadn’t caused these particular tears. It was to his great surprise that he found the tree house populated by none other than one of the fillies who had released him from his imprisonment. “Pardon me for interrupting.” He said, taking no small amount of pleasure in watching the little filly jump. “But I couldn’t help noticing your face was leaking. Would you like me to call a plumber?” The little filly’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates – no, I’m not exaggerating – well, how am I supposed to know what size dinner plates are? Who has dinner on plates these days anyway? Well, I expected her to ask something like ‘what are you?’ or ‘who are you?’ or ‘AAAAAIIIEEEAAAAAGGHH!!!’. The wordless scream would have been my favorite. But to Discord’s surprise, she perked up and laughed. Discord was shocked, and decided to let himself in. Grabbing the handle of the door, he opened up the wall and slinked inside of the club house. He sat himself down next to the filly, and offered her an ice cream cone made of somepony’s hair. Somewhere in the upside-down-town of Ponyville, Carrot Top noticed the absence of her mane and screamed. “Here, have some carrot flavored ice cream, on me.” Discord said, thinking it was pretty funny the way the filly instantly started eating something which she had no idea was somepony else’s mane. “So, care to tell me why your face was leaking?” Discord asked. It was only then that the Pegasus filly realized who she was talking to. “Hey… you’re that statue from the Canterlot gardens!” Discord nodded. “The name’s Discord. Don’t wear it out.” The filly frowned. “Statues can’t talk.” Discord frowned too. “Now what sort of world would it be where statues can’t talk!?” He asked. He stood up, making room for his head in the tiny clubhouse by popping the roof off like a pickle jar. “New rule!” He declared. “All statues, can talk!” (somewhere in Canterlot, a few fountain statues of ponies with stream of water flowing out of their mouths, suddenly realized they possessed lungs. They coughed and spluttered for a while, before finally choking and falling over into the fountain, while the ponies around them screamed in horror.) Scootaloo giggled. “You’re a funny statue.” Discord smiled. He had taken a shine to this filly. He would turn her into something nice – like jello! Jello is so fun, not a solid, not a liquid, just pure edible bounciness. Who doesn’t like jello? Then the filly began to sniff again. “I had a fight with my friends today.” “Of course you did.” Discord nodded sagely. Scootaloo looked at him, confused. “Friends aren’t supposed to fight.” Now it was Discord’s turn to look confused. “Friends aren't supposed to fight?” He asked. “What sort of crazy upside down world are you living in? Listen. Kid.” He leaned in close, about to impart his millennia old wisdom. “Let me connect some dots for you. Do you fight with strangers on the street?” Scootaloo shook her head. “No.” “There you go!” Discord beamed. “If you don’t fight with strangers on the street, then who else is there to fight with then your friends!?” Scootaloo smiled, apparently following what Discord called logic perfectly. “Hey, you’re right!” “Of course I am!” Discord beamed proudly. He loved it when ponies acknowledged how he was right in every way. Except on Tuesdays, and every other three hours. “Hey mister Discord.” Scootaloo had finished off her ice cream cone, and thrown it out the window, where it grew legs and scurried away like some sort of waffle lizard. “You’re a pretty funny guy, you know that?” Discord scoffed, deciding that accepting the filly’s compliment would be too predictable. “Of course I know I’m funny. What, do you think I have rocks in my brain?” He grabbed one of his horns and opened his head up. A swarm of cutlery ran out, taking their one and only chance to escape the confines of Discord’s deranged mind. “Well, I suppose I should have seen that coming.” Discord mused as the Pegasus collapsed onto the floor in a fit of laughter. “So, kid.” Discord slumped back down. “Now that your face is fixed, what do you say? Do you want to come around town and help me prank some ponies?” His face brightened, as he thought of something devious. “Hey, we can start with your parents! How about that, eh?” Scootaloo frowned. “I… don’t have parents.” “Oh, don’t try and trick me!” Discord tutted. “Everypony’s got parents. I suppose you don’t want them to meet me, but little did you know –” He took out a scarlet cape with a swirl. “I can summon them! Right, here!” With a swift tug he removed his cape, revealing – Two coffins, laid out on the floor. Scootaloo and Discord both took in the sight. “You know, it’s not often that I’m surprised.” He smiled. “This is turning into a really fun day!” Scootaloo wailed, and threw herself at the coffins. “Mom! Dad!” She cried, in what Discord thought was an adorable fashion. Discord savored the tears for a moment, before brushing them off. “Sorry about that.” He said insincerely, as he poofed the coffins away, transforming them into cakes in the process. “So, you’re an orphan?” Scootaloo glared at him. He didn’t know why she looked so angry. “No, I’m a runaway. Orphans are abandoned.” Discord stroked his beard, as an ingenius idea popped into his head, probably the best idea he had since the maze ploy. “Kid, how would you like it if I adopted you?” Scootaloo’s eyes widened. “Really?” “Sure!” With a snap of his fingers, Discord summoned a series of books on Equestrian law, and put a pair of flashy banana-made reading glasses on his nose. Normally he wouldn’t do something so mundane, but he figured, when you’re spreading chaos it’s worth it to go the extra mile. “I’ve never been a daddy before. This’ll be fun!” The filly jumped up and down for joy. “Oh boy! Oh boy! I’m gonna have a dad!” She stopped and thought about it for a while. “I’m gonna have a statue for a dad.” Then she began bouncing again. “A magical statue! My dad’s gonna be a magical statue!” Discord laughed, as he worked his way through books and sheaves of paperwork. Bureaucracy had never been so chaotic before! Within the hour, the two of them had drawn up completely legal adoption papers. Discord checked his wrist. “Oh my goodness, I’m late!” “Late for what?” Scootaloo asked, looking up from where she was framing the papers. “Oh, just visiting a few friends, partying my guts out, and sitting on my throne, cackling madly.” Discord mused. He almost forgot about the filly as he turned to leave, but then he remembered her. “Oh, hey. Don’t wait up, I’ll be back her in time for dinner. Have a cotton candy cloud.” Discord watched Scootaloo’s eyes light up with the snack. It was the first time he saw somepony happy with his tricks since Pinkie Pie, but then he broke Pinkie Pie. With a cheery grin and a wave, he kicked the wall down flat and used it as a springboard to catapult himself into the sky. And Scootaloo, the orange Pegasus filly, sat in her tree house with a cloud made of cotton candy that rain chocolate milk. Discord suddenly returned, poking his head around the corner of the open wall. “Hey Scoots, these friends of yours… if they were animals, what sort of animals do you think they’d be?” Scootaloo grinned mischievously. “Chickens!” Discord returned her mischievous grin with interest. “Interstiiiiiiiiiiiiing.” He said, slinking away. And she waited. Eventually, she finished eating the cloud. She still waited. The sun and the moon zipped up and down in the sky like they were playing a game of tag. She kept waiting. She felt what she figured was a sonic rainboom wash over her. Everything seemed to go back to normal. Pourtant, elle a attendu. And then her friends came to the club house, and they talked about Discord. Apparantly, he had turned Applebloom into a chicken, but then he turned Sweetie Belle into a penguin. They decided whatever they used to be fighting about was pointless, so they became friends again. But late at night, as she shivered in the cold of her club house, Scootaloo stared at the adoption papers that she’d framed, and wondered what it would be like to have the Spirit of Chaos as a parent. Months passed, and Scootaloo found herself at the after party of Canterlot’s biggest wedding in years. She and her two friends had been recommended as flower girls, and they’d done a wonderful job! But Scootaloo had decided, now that the whole wedding thing was over, she needed to talk to somepony. “Guys, I’ll be back in a minute.” She told her friends. “Aaaaaaw.” Applebloom whined. “But we need a third pony to dance the ‘jerky turkey’!” Scootaloo looked around, and saw Spike making his way towards Rarity and adjusting his tux. Scootaloo whisked him away, and brought him back to the Cutie Mark Crusaders. “Here ya go!” She said. “A third dancer!” “What?” Spike asked, as confused as ever. Scootaloo rushed off, searching through the crowd. She couldn’t find who she was looking for, but she did find somepony who could help. “Hey Rainbow Dash!” Scootaloo waved. Rainbow Dash glanced over to her, distracted momentarily from her dance with Pinkie Pie. “Hey Scoots! How’s it going?” Scootaloo squeezed past a pony couple, causing them to spill their drinks and snort affronted ‘harumph’s. “Rainbow Dash, do you think you can introduce me to Princess Celestia?” Rainbow Dash grinned knowingly. “Awe yeah, I’m totally tight with the princess.” She picked up the little filly. “Hold on Scoots, most ponies need to book things, like, months in advance to meet her, but you're going to get the V.I.P. treatment.” They fluttered over to the edge of the party, where Princess Celestia and Princess Luna were looking over the crowd of ponies with smiles on their faces. Scootaloo didn’t even wait for Rainbow Dash to land, eagerly jumping off of her back and running to Princess Celestia. “Why hello my little pony.” She said, putting on her best benevolent smile. “Er, hello your majesty.” Scootaloo bowed. Now that she was in front of the princess, she found herself nervous about doing the next thing she wanted to do. “Hey Princess.” Rainbow Dash greeted her casually. “Scoots here just wanted to meet you. And I was like, ‘sure, anything for my number one fan’.” Scootaloo gulped. Her mouth was dry. She could sure use a glass of chocolate milk right now. “Um… Princess Celestia?” She asked, as meek as a cat asking a mouse for his opinion on her breath. “I have a… a favor. If you don’t mind.” “What is it Scootaloo?” Princess Celestia asked curiously. Scootaloo gulped, and in a fit of panic, she took out her framed adoption papers. “Um… I have a dad who’s sort of in jail… and I was wondering…” Princess Celestia made a face halfway between a smile and a frown. “Don’t worry little one. One of my own personal additions to Equestrian law, was a law that allows an criminal parent to be excused from prison for two months, under parole, to prove that he or she is worthy of being allowed freedom. As long as you believe your parent is a truly good pony, I don’t see why you shouldn’t be able to appeal to the courts.” Scootaloo blushed, and handed Princess Celestia the adoption papers. Princess Celestia took them, read through them, and her jaw very nearly hit the floor. She tried to speak, but try as she might she could find only one response to the situation. … … “… That crazy son of a mule.”