Eighth Chapter: We Ended The Party
That house had been disappointingly easy to burn down. Lyra had expected at least some kind of resistance—it being Blueblood’s property and stuff. Sadly, that hadn’t been the case.
Truth is, the walls had refused to be taken by the flames at first. Lyra had seen a lot of fireproof spells during her life—if only because everything had to be fireproof around her—and Blueblood’s were choppy. Just throwing fire at the curtains nonstop for five straight minutes and punching the walls a little had been enough to counter it. Then again, that was Lyra’s usual course of action when she had to face a spell, but that was not important.
“Well, this is finally done,” said Carrot, standing by Lyra’s side and looking at the flames. She had two black eyes now, because at some point Lyra had gotten bored of throwing flames and had started a short (but intense) fight with Carrot. It had been a match, and then again with the “burning this shit down” business. Lyra liked those kinds of plans: they were simple, they were fun, and if she messed it up she wouldn’t be the only one going to jail.
“Yeah,” said Lyra, “this is sure a lot of smoke, huh?”
“Uh-huh.” Carrot nodded. “What do we do now?”
Lyra shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess we can get out of here. It would be a pretty good idea, in fact.”
“Why?”
“Because the Royal Guards are coming.”
Carrot Top frowned. “I thought we were starting this fire so they wouldn’t come after us?”
“Well,” Lyra said, “yes, we’re doing this to distract them. Because a house on fire is more important than discovering who hijacked the party right now. Also, the black smoke hides the drug pretty well.”
“Then why should we run away?”
Lyra sighed. “Because this fire was clearly started by somepony with magic.”
A pause. Carrot Top was still frowning. “And?” she finally asked, two minutes later.
“Well, they come here because they see a house on fire and a suspicious unicorn covered in bruises right next to the guards, who, by the way, are unconscious. Do the math.”
Lyra swore she could hear Carrot Top’s brain working as hard as it could. It almost smoked a little. The mare was squinting at the house, clearly trying to deduce the meaning behind Lyra’s words.
It went like that for ten minutes, until Carrot Top finally gave up. “I don’t get it.”
“They’ll think we started the fire.”
“Oh.” Carrot Top’s mouth created a perfect circle. Then she frowned again. “But we did start the fire, right?”
Lyra sighed again. “Yes, you idiot, we started the fire. But we don’t want them to know.”
“Why?”
“Because we’ll end up in—”
“Wait a minute! What did you call me?!”
They were punching each other again shortly three minutes later.
“Now, hold on a minute. I’m pretty sure we can calm down and solve this situation like responsible adults.”
The voice of reason that spoke in the middle of such cavalcade of madness was, of course, Fleur’s. Octavia gulped and looked at that mare. Would she dare to think there was some kind of salvation for her? Would everything be solved easily?
“Responsible adults my ass!” yelled Cheating Bastard. “Down with the killer!”
The crowd roared with him. “DOWN WITH HER! DOWN WITH HER!”
Octavia bit her lip. “Are you sure we can’t talk about this? Maybe give me a chance to explain myself at least?”
“NO!”
Well, fuck diplomacy then, Octavia thought. It was funny, but she wasn’t exactly nervous. Maybe it was the fact that she’d had a lot of yoga training to control her nerves, or maybe it was the fact that she had a lot of drugs in her body, but she felt quite serene. Yeah, the house was on fire. Yeah, those ponies wanted to (apparently) kill her. Yeah, she had no way to escape, and she couldn’t run away, as she was being cornered and she already felt the cold glass of the window on her back. Bah. It could be worse.
“Something tells me that they don’t want to argue,” she whispered to Fleur. “Call it intuition if you want.”
“Yes, their faces gave it away a little.”
“DOWN WITH THE KILLER! DOWN WITH THE KILLER!”
“The yelling also helps.”
It was getting harder to breathe. The black smoke was filling the room, and soon a couple of nobleponies couldn’t keep yelling and decided to start coughing instead. Octavia didn’t cough. Head up high, Fleur de Lis by her side, the mare stood her ground. “Thank you for your help, by the way,” she said. “It was nice.”
“You made this party the most exciting thing that’s happened to me in ages,” answered Fleur with a smile. “So yeah, you were nice too.”
“Oh.” The nobleponies were getting very close. Like, inches away. Octavia could see a couple hooves already in the air, ready to either push or hit, she wasn’t sure. Screams and coughs could be heard from everywhere, Cheating Bastard having the loudest ones.
Yes, better to look at the pretty mare instead. “You know,” she said during the last seconds of peace she would enjoy in that room, “if I get out of here alive I’ll invite you to the fanciest restaurant in town. What do you say?”
“I guess I’ll bring my fiancé?” Fleur said, cocking her head to the side.
“Whatever, I’m not jealous. Fancy Pants is very handsome anyway.”
Then two things happened at the same time.
First, Fleur de Lis chuckled seductively at Octavia’s words. It takes a lot of practice to chuckle seductively, and certainly that’s not a thing that appears on its own, so that was totally on purpose. That counted as scoring for Octavia.
Second, the nobleponies got very, very close and something hit Octavia on the back of her head. Then she heard a crash and fell to the ground, with a lot of pointy, cold things on her back and a big, warm thing on top of everything.
It hurt a lot. It also gave her a new perspective of life, as she realized that sometimes sex is not as important a mob of angry nobles that want to beat the life out of you.
Sometimes. I still scored, after all.
When Bon Bon finally got to the garden, she was panting, and that annoyed her. She really hated running now. She had to write down that in her Hate List when she got home later. At least finding the right way to the house had been easy: she just had to follow the trail of black smoke. Localizing burning houses was child’s play. Especially after living for two whole years with Lyra.
So she went to the garden. And what did she see there? Lyra and Carrot Top fighting. As in, punching each other and kicking each other and the like.
“I expect nothing of you and you still manage to disappoint me,” she said. “That’s just amazing. I’m seriously in awe here. What the bloody hell are you doing?!”
None of them answered, keeping on with the punches and stuff instead. Bon Bon stopped by their side and glared at them.
“Hey, we have some job to do here!” she yelled.
Still no answer. Lyra and Carrot Top were too centered on trying to murder each other to listen to Bon Bon. So she did the only sensible thing she could do: she got back to the forest, got a stick, and poked them as hard as she could.
The first three pokes didn’t really work, but the fourth one got in Carrot’s eye, and she finally noticed Bon Bon, who by that time had a pissed-off aura so big it was almost visible. Then she tried to say something, but that left her guard down for more than three seconds, and Lyra took it as a chance to smack her in the jaw as hard as possible.
However, that turned out to be a good thing, as Carrot Top flew away a couple meters—teeth flying alongside her—and Lyra, panting, saw Bon Bon with her stick.
“Hey, Bon!” she said, smiling. “Thanks for the help! THAT’S ONE MORE VICTORY FOR ME, YOU IDIOT!” she yelled to Carrot. Then she turned to Bon again. “Why are you here?”
“Because you’re a fucking idiot, that’s why.” Bon rolled her eyes and turned around her head, looking for something in her mane. “There,” she said when she finally got it. “it’s my communicator.”
“I can see that.” Lyra raised an eyebrow at the device. “Two questions: why are you giving it to me, and why did you take it off?”
“I don’t know. Usually the answer would be something like, ‘I took this shit off because I had to give it to you,’ but as your clever, totally-not-stupid question reveals, there’s a hidden meaning behind my acts. You see, there’s this thing called ‘a plan’ and this other one called ‘a DJ screaming all the time’ and this last thing called ‘stop asking shit and put this thing on before I send everything to hell and go home’”.
“I think you got lost in the metaphor at some point.”
“You know, at this point I believe it would be a pretty huge surprise for you if I cared about that.”
Lyra nodded. “Yeah, pretty much.”
“So you’re saying that to piss me off, mostly.”
“Guilty as charged.”
“I hate you.”
“You know, I really enjoyed kicking your face before.” Lyra smiled. “Maybe I should do that more often?”
Bon Bon frowned. “Carrot,” she said without looking away from Lyra, “don’t even think about tackling Lyra while we’re talking.”
“What?” Carrot Top, who had been approaching them from the side as quietly as possible, looked at Bon Bon with puppy eyes. “But she hit me!”
“I don’t care. You can hit her when we’re home,” Bon Bon said. “Now, Lyra, put this thing on.”
“But why?”
“Because, as I totally didn’t say a couple minutes ago—after all, you’re a very intelligent mare and you wouldn’t forget such an important information, although every single pony in existence thinks you’re an idiot—Vinyl Scratch is yelling like a madmare, and it’s your fault.” She paused for a second. “Well, yours and Turner’s. The thing is that she wants to talk with you.”
“Oh?” Lyra frowned. “And why should I talk with her?”
Bon Bon blinked and stared at her for a couple seconds. “She said you’re a pussy and she’s tougher than you,” she finally said.
Lyra said nothing. She just frowned a little, looked at the communicator, cocked her head to the side, took the device and put it on her ear. “Hey,” she said, “you have three seconds to save your life.”
Bon Bon didn’t understand Vinyl’s answer, but she could hear that she was yelling.
Then, one of the weirdest things Bon Bon had ever seen happened right in front of her eyes.
At first, Lyra was clearly angry. She yelled a couple of insults and put in doubt Vinyl’s whole family’s reputation, implying that they had had sexual relationships with a great variety of devices, animals, and chemical elements.
Then, Vinyl answered.
And Lyra’s eyes got colder. Like, ice-cold. She said something else so quietly than Bon Bon couldn’t understand it.
And then Lyra flinched.
Vinyl was still yelling, and Bon Bon could hear her muffled voice screaming something very long and very elaborate. Lyra’s eyes got a little less colder.
That went on for some minutes. Then, Lyra gulped, and frowned. She was sweating. Vinyl was still yelling.
Bon Bon approached Lyra. “Okay,” she said. “So… what is going on?”
Lyra just gulped again.
“Huh.” Bon Bon nodded. “Well, Turner said that helping Octavia might calm Vinyl down a little. Do you want to help me now?”
Lyra nodded.
“Good. Go grab that statue then. Topsie, come with us. You can tackle Lyra now.”
Tumph!
Apparently, the forceful kiss to Turner’s cutie mark hadn’t eliminated all of the drugs in Derpy’s body. Or at least that’s what she wanted to think. The alternative was that she couldn’t control herself very well when she was flying at top speed.
After all, crashing into the building she was heading for was a beginner’s mistake, and Derpy had too many hours of flight in her record to allow herself such a thing. The fact that she had crashed into the window did nothing but add salt to the injury.
The window exploded against Derpy’s body, and she saw herself falling into the room and hitting somepony while doing so. If she thought her head was hurting before, then she was wrong. Now it was.
Glass everywhere—Derpy felt her entire body covered in bruises. It hurt a little, but all in all the harm had been far smaller than what could have happened. She had broken a window after all…
Oh? Something had acted as a cushion and stopped her fall, she noticed. Shaking her head to clear up her mind, Derpy looked at the room she was in, and…
Silence.
“Oopsie.”
The first thing she saw was a lot of nobleponies looking at her with a mixture of confusion, surprise and… Was that anger? Weird.
The second thing she saw was a room filled with smoke. It was hard to breathe in there. We need to get away from here as soon as possible. She knew very little about fires, but standing on the second floor of a burning mansion didn’t sound very safe.
The third thing she saw was her cushion. Which wasn’t a cushion at all—it was a pony. More specifically, it was Octavia.
Who, of course, was unconscious.
“Tavi!” Jumping to the side so she would stop crushing her friend against the floor, Derpy took Octavia and turned her around. She also had a couple bruises, but she didn’t look so bad. “Oh, buggers! Did I do this?!”
Silence.
“Um. Yes.” Derpy turned around to see who was talking: a white unicorn mare. The most beautiful mare Derpy had ever seen, by the way. “You kinda tackled her from the window.”
“Crap.” Derpy turned around to the crowd of nobleponies. “Look, I—”
“SHE’S ALSO A FRIEND OF CARROT TOP!” A sudden scream broke down the silence the room had been submerged into all this time. The white stallion looked horrible, with both his eyes looking reddish and his mouth twisting in a weird way. “OH MY FUCKING CELESTIA, CARROT TOP BROUGHT ALL OF HER FRIENDS HERE! WE ARE GOING TO DIE!”
Derpy’s ears went down on their own as she retreated a few steps. The atmosphere in the room had turned from anger mixed with confusion to anger mixed with rage. And as they were thirty and Derpy was only one—plus an unconscious Octavia—the odds weren’t in her favor.
As the group advanced towards her, Derpy looked at their faces, unable to think what to do…
And then she saw the one who had screamed on the first place. It was him.
“YOU!” The fear went away instantly and her ears went up. Derpy opened her wings subconsciously, and flew to the face of the stallion she was yelling at. “You fucking asshole!” she said, inches apart from his face. “Everything is your fault! Everything!”
Apparently, Cheating Bastard hadn’t expected such a reaction from Derpy. He flinched visibly and tried to walk away from her. “Tried” is the key word in that sentence, as the pegasus grabbed him by the neck of his shirt and pressed her nose to his. At this gesture, the white stallion raised his eyebrows, offended. He opened his mouth to say something, but Derpy interrupted him.
“Oh no, you better shut the fuck up!” She used her left eye to look him right in the pupil—the right one was looking at the ceiling. The lamps in that house were pretty nice. “Do you realize just how much trouble we’ve been through just because you were unable to control your own dick?!”
“I-I did no…!” Cheating Bastard shook his head and pushed Derpy away. “What are you talking about, you murderer?!”
Derpy showed her teeth. Judging by the way she sounded like a troll murdering a village made of puppies, she was pretty sure she still had drugs in her system. “I’m talking about you being a cheating son of a bitch!” she said.
“Actually, his last name is ‘Bastard’,” pointed out a stallion in the crowd. Derpy frowned at him and he jumped in fear.
“I’m not talking about that,” she whispered. “I’m talking about the fact that he cheated on his fiancée with his secretary. And then he started the fire. Long story.”
And with those words, the general feeling of the room changed completely. Nopony would believe there was going to be something similar to a murder a couple minutes ago judging by what was in there now.
Even though that new mare that had entered the room through the window didn’t know this, she had said the magic words. A lot of things could be said about Canterlot nobility: they were stupid, they were egotistic, they were more of a hive mind than the changelings. But there was one thing, the big thing, which defined them all: they were, deep inside of their hearts, gossipers.
The greatest gossipers that have ever existed.
They lived, ate, died, and breathed for gossip. They knew everything one could know about everypony who was important, and a lot of things from ponies who weren’t exactly in the spotlight; who was pregnant, who had asked somepony else to marry him, who had suffered a nasty break-up, and, of course, who had been cheating his other half with a lover. Those were the best ones.
So, when the pegasus said the magic words, every single noblepony in the room forgot everything about what had happened until right then, closed their mouths, and sharpened their ears. The smallest bit of information would be valuable later. Cheating Bastard, a cheater? Oh, and he looked like such a nice gentlecolt!
Cheating Bastard himself was, on top of everything, a noblepony. So when he heard what Derpy had said, he knew his reputation was in danger, and he got afraid. “Y-you don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“The hell I don’t!” Derpy answered. “Carrot Top saw you cheating on her and came here to take revenge on you! Why else do you think all of this has happened?!”
“Lies! I have nothing to do with—!”
“You have EVERYTHING to do with this!” Derpy squinted while saying this. “If the party’s been destroyed, it is because of you!”
The nobleponies found a dilemma here. There was no way to know if Derpy was saying the truth. What to choose? Trust the stallion you’ve always known or trust this weird gray pegasus that can’t talk with a normal voice?
What an easy choice.
Believing Cheating Bastard had been a naughty boy was by far juicier. And they liked juicy rumors.
So, Cheating Bastard was the reason why they had been attacked.
Quod Erat Demonstrandum.
The change in the room’s mood was so noticeable that Cheating Bastard started sweating. Derpy wasn’t the only one looking at him with angry eyes now. “You’re gonna believe her?” he said. “I’m Lord Cheating Bastard, I deserve more respect than this!”
Then, Fleur de Lis talked. “I think she’s saying the truth,” she said. “You are a cheater.”
“But I didn’t cause anything else! I didn’t attack the par—”
“AH-HAH!”
Boom. He had admitted it.
Some ponies gasped, some faked a faint, some just shook their heads in disapproval. And some muttered “yes”, because a gossip is always good, but a gossip that turns out to be true is even better.
“So you did cheat on her!” Derpy yelled. “I knew it! You fucking bastard!”
“The Bastard House is one of the oldest, most-respected families in Canterlot, and I won’t allow such misdem—”
“She is my friend, and I’ve been forced to lick Turner’s cutie mark, with Bon Bon watching, without him licking mine back, because of you!”
Silence.
“In all honestly, I fail to see the connect—”
“YOU’RE A GIANT SACK OF TURDS!”
The scene was interesting, that couldn’t be denied, but the nobleponies didn’t mind when it got interrupted.
Because then everything got way better.
Tunk!
“Okay,” said the figure on the window, “everypony out! My friends say this is dangerous, and apparently that’s enough for you to get out, because…”
The words died in the mare’s mouth when she saw who was in the room. Her eyes got colder and her pupils got smaller.
“Cheating Bastard,” she said, with that voice.
Lord Bastard saw her. And his pupils got way bigger.
“C-Carrot Top?” he muttered.
Even though the sounds from the mansion were almost inaudible, Turner could hear everything loud that happened in the forest. And that was a good thing; as the Royal Guards were running in looking for a fire, being silent wasn’t one of their priorities. Turner yelled at top of his lungs right when he heard galloping and screams from the armored ponies. As a result, he was localized in a few moments.
A couple stallions, both of them white and wearing that distinctive golden armor, appeared right in front of them. As the initial shock faded away, both listened to Turner’s story.
And boy, it was a long story.
“…And that’s how I disabled the terrorists’ bomb and saved the day with the help of our friends,” he said after fifteen minutes of telling what he thought was his literary masterpiece. “That also explains why am I here, wounded, and why the house is on fire.” He topped the whole lie with a bright smile. “Any questions?”
The two guards stood there in silence for a couple seconds, until the one on the left finally talked. “You’re telling us,” he said, “that a group of ponies of all three races—”
“Equally formed by unicorns, earth ponies, and pegasi,” Turner interrupted. “Anything else is pretty racist.”
“Uh, yeah. So you say a very politically correct group of terrorists that had no discernible goal—”
“Yeah, I think they just wanted to kill a lot of ponies for absolutely no reason whatsoever,” Turner said. “That’s what terrorist do. Also, they were ninjas, don’t forget that. So technically, that’s what ninja terrorists do.”
“Yes. That’s what ninja terrorists do,” said the other guard with a monotone voice.
“Uh-huh. So, that mysterious group of ninja terrorists tried to kill everypony in here but you and your friends, who just happened to be here—”
“We were going to read fairy tales to ill foals.”
“—you just happened to be here because you’re all wonderful ponies, and then you saved everypony even though they think you’re the bad guys.”
“Exactly.” Turner nodded. “Because the evil ninjas used that white smoke.”
“That magical white smoke that causes hallucinations.”
“Yes.”
“A white smoke that the terrorist had with them for some reason.”
“Yeees.”
“Even though they already had a bomb and were also ninjas, so nopony could have ever seen them and they didn’t need the smoke.”
“They were very prepared,” Turner added.
“So you fought the evil ninja terrorists that were also very politically correct and nopony saw you doing so and everypony else thinks you’re the bad guys.”
“Yes.”
“And the only one who says you’re the good guys is you.”
“Me and my friends.”
“You and your friends. Who went to read fairy tales to the ill foals in the hospital.”
“The vast majority of them are also orphans. I forgot to mention that.”
“And you’re the only witnesses of that evil and unknown-plus-totally-impossible-to-identify group of ninja terrorists.”
“Exactly.”
“Why did you fight those ponies again?”
“Because we have a very kind heart and can’t live with the idea of others suffering.”
“Aha.”
Absolute silence. The Royal Guards stared down Turner. He returned the look with a bright smile.
Then the Guard turned to his companion. “We’re dealing with a very dangerous elite group, that are obviously planning something too big for us to handle on our own,” he said with a grave tone. “Red alert, code twenty-two. Go and tell the rest.” He frowned. “If anypony here sees a ninja, get him! But be careful. One of them is easily worth five of our better soldiers.”
The other Royal Guard nodded and ran away to the mansion. Once he had been gone, the first Guard turned to Turner and saluted him. “You’re a hero and an example to us all, mister,” he said. “And for that, I salute you. I will recommend you for the Celestial Medal of Honor.” He lowered his hoof and picked up Turner effortlessly, then started walking to the mansion with him on his back. “I would be very honored if you gifted me with your autograph later, mister,” he added in a more casual tone.
“Oh,” Turner said, still smiling. “But of course.”
Octavia woke up with a soft whimper and something surprisingly similar to a purr, because when you’re that sexy you can’t even regain consciousness without doing it sensually. Being hot is serious business. Although she was sure she could have done it better if it wasn’t for her headache. She fluttered her eyes a couple times before finally opening them, getting up with the help of somepony’s hoof and actually looking around her.
First thing she saw: she wasn’t in that room anymore. She was outside, in the front garden of Blueblood’s house, which was still burning. The second thing she noticed was that there were a lot of ponies around her, but only three or four were actual nobleponies. The rest were mostly Royal Guards, with their golden armor and their identical faces.
And then, there were her friends, Derpy being the one helping her getting up. All of them were there but Vinyl and Carrot Top. Wait, do I still count Scratch as a friend? Scratch that.
Anyway, it wasn’t the time to think about such things. “Uuugh,” she said. “I’m a little afraid to ask, but what’s happening?”
“Your friend defeated the ninja leader, ma’am,” answered one of the Royal Guards. “You’re safe.”
“The ninja lead—?”
“The bad guy,” interrupted Turner. “You know, the one who did all this? Big, scary stallion? Red eyes? A scar in the shape of a dragon and a tattoo that also has the shape of a dragon?”
Octavia blinked. “Eeeeeeh…”
“Yeah, you know him.” Turner looked at one of the Guards. “She’s still confused, you know. Too much smoke.”
“Of course, of course.” The Royal Guard nodded. “You’re safe now, ma’am, and that’s all you need to know.”
Octavia cocked her head to the side, but Turner gave her a weird look, so she decided to shut up. Better not ask.
“Are you okay, Tavi?” asked Derpy. “Does it hurt?”
“My head is positively killing me, dear, but apart from that…”
“Welcome to the bloody club,” muttered Bon Bon. “I would be surprised if one of us didn’t have a headache by now.”
“It’s been a long night,” nodded Lyra. “Even I am tired.” She spat on the ground. “And if you think you’ve got a headache, try to move that fucking thing after using all your magic twice.” She pointed at the house. “Then you can talk about headaches.”
Octavia looked at the point Lyra was referring to, and saw the giant statue of Pholopotodolphin resting against the side of the house. The head of the dolphin was just at the second floor’s level.
“What the—?”
“Lyra moved the statue,” answered Derpy, “and used it as a ladder to get all of you out of that room. And I, uh…” She looked at the ground, embarrassed, “kinda sorta knocked you out by accident.” She looked at her and smiled. “Sorry?”
Octavia raised an eyebrow as a reply. “You accidentally knocked me out?”
“White smoke, ninjas, wolves, long story,” interrupted Turner. “Um, there were wolves too. I forgot to mention that. Now, do you mind leaving us alone, please?” he said, looking at the crowd of Guards and nobleponies. “We, uh, need some privacy.”
“Where’s Carrot Top?” asked Octavia once everypony had obeyed Turner and the gang was left alone. “And what’s that crap about the ninjas?”
“Something Turner made up to cover us,” said Bon Bon. “As for Carrot Top, she found Cheating Bastard on the second floor.”
Silence.
“So she’s still in the house, beating him up?”
“Yeah.”
“But the house is still on fire.”
“She came out not so long ago and asked for a baseball bat.”
“Do we have a baseball bat?”
“No. Can’t you see that the Pholotodolphin is now incomplete?”
Octavia frowned and looked at the statue. “I thought it was just censored.”
“Nope. That thing was anatomically correct until Carrot thought that she wanted help with her ex-boyfriend.”
“The fire is the least dangerous thing in there right now, I see.”
“Anyway,” Derpy said, “I think I also have a headache right now, so—”
“No shit, your head hurts? Oh, that has to be so terrible I can’t even think about how—”
“Really, Bon.” Lyra sighed and massaged her forehead with her hoof. “For the last time: shut up.”
“So, as I was saying,” Derpy continued, “let’s do this as fast as possible, okay?”
“Do what?” asked Octavia.
“Put an end to your drama,” answered Turner. “Look, you know that Lyra couldn’t use magic without suffering a lot of pain when she moved the statue to the window so you could escape, right?”
“Tell me about it.” Lyra scolded. “You know what? Screw this, I’m outta here. I think somepony called an ambulance, so I’m gonna look for the medics.” She smirked. “I need a couple stitches here and there. See ya later, losers.”
“I’m with her,” muttered Bon Bon once Lyra turned around and walked away. “I guess we’ll meet at the bar after this. See you there?”
“Why not? I’m too exhausted to sleep,” said Derpy. “Ciao.”
“Bye.”
As the second mare went away, silence fell onto the three ponies that were left. Turner looked horrible, covered in bruises and with blood on his forehead. Derpy looked tired and her eyes were red due to the smoke, and Octavia’s head was throbbing. A couple minutes passed until somepony finally talked again.
“So,” Octavia said, “what’s next?”
“Well,” Derpy said, “you know, as we said before, Lyra had a lot of trouble moving that statue…”
“Yes.”
“And as you know,” said Turner, “Lyra is not the kind of mare who sacrifices herself for the sake of the others. We had to convince her.”
“What?” Octavia shook her head and chuckled. “What are you talking about? You convinced her? You reasoned with Lyra?”
“We didn’t talk with her,” Turner said. “Vinyl did.”
Octavia’s left ear twitched. “Vinyl?”
“Vinyl Scratch herself,” Turner said. “You see, she realized the house was on fire and you were still in there, and I made a joke about us leaving you behind.” With a smirk, he took something from his ear and showed it to Octavia. It was a communicator. “So she started insulting me. And then she insulted Lyra until she offered her help. She thinks you’re still in danger, so she should be still going on. It’s only been like half an hour anyway.”
Gulping, Octavia took Turner’s communicator and put it on her ear.
At the other side, Vinyl was screaming with a sore voice, visibly tired. She was talking about what she was going to do with Turner, Bon Bon, Lyra, Bon Bon, Derpy, Carrot Top, and Bon Bon if they didn’t move their, quoting here, “fucking fat asses” and helped Octavia out of that house.
She was very explicit, and very loud. She talked about burning things, throwing rocks at very sensitive points of the pony body, breaking bones, and a surprisingly long list of things that she was going to shove up their rears by hoof. Then she went on with a nausea-inducing talk about needles, eyes, lemons, salt, copper, glass, saliva, vomit, pigs, and the wonderful and amazing rainbow of pain she was going to induce into her best friends if Octavia got a single hair of her head burned.
Octavia’s head was hurting like hell, but she listened to her friend’s voice until the end. She had seduced poets, writers and musicians before. Thirty-nine different ponies, one griffon, two donkeys and at least four minotaurs had proposed to her before, and all of them had tried to be as touching, passionate, sincere and amusing as possible.
Yet that neverending trail of horrible insults was, by far, the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard.
Stats
Page generated in 0.026 seconds
Total duration
818 users online
485,756 hits today, 1,822,946 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
The sixtyseventh element is what Vinyl referred to.
Pfftbwahahaha!
I must ask though, where you got your inspiration from.
Sorry, there was one thing I missed.
"Everything" should be "anything."
Was "Rainbow of Pain" a Korgoth of Barbaria reference?
Oh my god Turner, you magnificent son of a bitch you.
Turner, you are a genius.
assets0.ordienetworks.com/images/GifGuide/clapping/joker.gif
assets0.ordienetworks.com/images/GifGuide/clapping/citizen_cane.gif
encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcS2-HCU7vTUSYYrAUElJLxzKZmGIR0CdPWDHOM432AGHjxI25Q-
encrypted-tbn2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTtjJcJwZwhqUKbtQZ5r_ec9o5a0TQmuF-Dd9qHAVCxzTH6i-cN
static3.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20120228224012/mlp/images/e/ec/FANMADE_Twilight_Clapping.gif
Also Vinyl is to
2.bp.blogspot.com/-rywrlOxbAow/Tdx7cKun-3I/AAAAAAAAATQ/VNAAGu8QvQg/s400/15968%2B-%2Banimated%2Bartist-mihaaaa%2Bclapping%2Bclopplauding%2Bgif%2BOctavia%2Breaction_image%2Breaction_ponies.jpg
I lost my shit at time turners cover up story. I'm still laughing.
I lost it at Carrot Top beating Cheating Bastard with the important part of dolphin's anatomy...
Also, Turner actually came up with a self-insert that worked. Though his audience wasn't very nitpicky after all.
So... yay?
3839268
IKR!! LOL!!
I had to laugh at that one 
I see...so it all boils down to ninjas. It's always the damn ninjas!
I'd believe Turner too if he would tell me such a story....who wouldn't? How could you not trust the smart pony with the magical butt?
So....She's beating her Ex, with a giant Dolphin Phallus?
I think Cheating Bastard may actually be the good guy here.
So this is what laughter feels like
Politically correct ninja terrorists led by a red eyed stallion with a scar and cuttie mark in the shape of a dragon. Seems legit.
3912182 Don't forget the bomb and the magical smoke
Time to taste the painbow!
3859517 Just because he isn't as crazy or as 'bad' as the main characters, doesn't make him a good guy. He's just slightly less bad
Woah. I hope we get the other side of that conversation.
Terrorist ninjas? So crazy it's believable.
Close enough. And what a touching ending to the chapter! For a given value of touching, that is.
loving this story going to read the epilogue
Ninja terrorists.
Bloody brilliant, Turner.
Now the local black wearing Japanese noodle makers have a problem.
Especially the one the fell on that dragon brand last year the burned his face.
3838584
Holmium???
Why?
3839129
I admit, I was caught by surprise when he wasn't called out on it.
I mean, the author wrote out the guard's questions such that they pointed out exactly how bad Turner's story was, and why the guards shouldn't believe him. And then...
Well, okay then. There's a certain amount of suspension of any disbelief that happens if you want to be able to make it through this story.
4031873 bro, you're talking about the same story that said the doc's butt could cure hangovers. Your logic is irrelevant.
That was hilarious. Especially Time Turner's cover-up.
Dumbest guards ever.
Not much better.
My god they're dumb.
Daaaaawww...
So Carrot Top still ended up beating up her ex-coltfriend?
So this whole plot was nothing but a smokescreen to save her from prosecution?
....good plan.
I've been suspecting it for a few chapters now, but i'm calling exactly how Cheating's night is going to end.
3935977
Octavia, Vinyl, and Turner are definitely better people than Cheating.
Derpy might also count, but at least some of her goodness is faked.
Just because Cheating Bastard got the short end of the stick does not make him any better