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Prologue1,256 words
Chapter One.4,204 words
Chapter Two.4,516 words
Chapter Three.3,992 words
Chapter Four4,199 words
Chapter Five.4,192 words
Chapter Six.4,136 words
Chapter Seven7,079 words
Epilogue.2,520 words

Prologue

Prologue.

My life has had a few odd turns in it over the years, but this one really takes the biscuit. ‘Dustpan’ floated in the bluish/purple liquid, not sure which way was up or down. It wasn’t a bad feeling of weightlessness (once he overcame the terror of being submerged in what tasted suspiciously like plum jam anyway.)

Dustpan had tried to hold his breath for the first minute or so, but eventually,with his lungs screaming for air, the desperate stallion had sucked in a huge breath of the syrupy mixture. To his utter astonishment he didn’t choke but felt the rich mass fill his lungs with a flavour of crisp grass and scented hills.

Flailing his hooves about himself, Dustpan managed to spin around to survey his new situation. There was a pale glow that seemed to have no discernible source which crazed and danced as wobbling bubbles flowed in every direction. Nor was he alone, the were hundreds of other objects floating within the suspension.

He looked around with his greenish yellow eyes and inspected the detritus also present: Off to one side he saw a grandfather clock drifting serenely, while just ‘above’ his head Dustpan was sure he recognised the huge form of a stone statue. This depicted a lion captured in mid pounce was drifting slowly away from Dustpan, tumbling peacefully into the hazy fog of distance. These were only a tiny fraction of the junk floating all around Dustpan and he couldn’t see an end to the odd vista before him.

A waft of movement caused Dustpan’s off white mane to sweep around and enmeshed his muzzle with its untidy strands, making Dustpan feel like he was tangled in a giant jellyfish which was slowly smothering him. Frantically Dustpan cleared his view with a grey hoof and was greeted by the slowly spinning eyes of ‘Screwball’ regarding him with playful amusement.

See I told you I knew the best places to hang out, father will never think of looking for us here! Dustpan knew he saw Screwball’s mouth moving and heard distorted sounds reverberating through the surrounding liquid. As the sounds didn’t reach his ears with any clarity Dustpan briefly wondered how he had understood Screwball’s words before and then recalled who's home he was in: Anything goes here. Dustpan reminded himself.

Screwball floated before Dustpan and winked with a twitching eyeball before her muzzle broke into a lopsided grin. Dustpan felt another shudder of unease flow through him. “So Dusty we can hang out here for a few years, pop out before we left and then you can meet ‘father’ all over again huh? I think that will be fabulous the second time around and maybe you can get on his good side this time?”

Dustpan’s face went even paler at the thought of meeting Screwball’s ‘father’ for the first time a second time around, “How does that even work, I mean will I meet myself meeting him again? Surely I would remember that?” Dustpan’s already shaky grip on reality was quickly eroding under the strains placed upon it by his current predicament.

Screwball giggled as her propeller hat spun lazily, causing further ripples in the sticky material surrounding the pair, “Oh Dusty you’re so silly sometimes, of course you won’t because that hasn’t happened yet; then when it does everything will break, turn a funny shade of cinnamon, before reality resets itself and you will not know anything else apart from seeing yourself see yourself.”

Dustpan stared at the hat on Screwball’s head; something that would have seemed out of place on a fully grown mare, yet on Screwball it looked perfectly normal. His mind attempted to understand what the other pony had just said but in the end he gave up and just nodded in mute confusion.

“Glad we got that sorted,” Screwball said in an offhoof way, “I would hate to think I was leaving you in the dark.” The strange light all around them dimmed slightly as Screwball spoke and Dustpan felt another stirring in the ‘air’ as something brushed past his back legs.

“What was that!” Dustpan exclaimed, in the strange speech they use here as a fuzzy shape zipped off into the distance before he could get a good look at it. He stared about wildly as further shapes dove and swam around them.

Screwball followed Dustpan’s worried gaze and released another giggle which vibrated the liquid into strange patterns, “Oh they are just father’s 'razor clams'; they must have smelled us and are looking for food.”

Dustpan’s eyes went wide, “Razor clams? They don’t sound friendly.”

Screwball hugged the tangled mess that was her tail and spun slowly in small loops before Dustpan’s worried face, “They are very friendly if you have some treats.”

The rounded shapes circled the pair of floating ponies in an ever decreasing sphere and Dustpan had to fight the urge to let out a squeak of fear as one brushed by his leg, “And er.... what kind of treats do you normally feed them?” The tension in Dustpan’s voice clear and he frantically tried to keep every one of the hundred of darting shapes in his view at once.

Screwball tapped her chin and the propeller on her hat spun faster, a sign that Dustpan was coming to understand to mean she was thinking fast, “Well I can’t remember where father found them, or if he just made them up. Either way I think they are in the habit of slicing things up before eating them, hence the name.”

Dustpan caught a brief glimpse of a particular razor clam as it spun past, seeing they were aptly titled: All spikes and blades sticking out at dangerous angles. They reminded Dustpan of small tangles of writhing brambles; only metallic in nature and Dustpan was forced to duck as another razor clam missed his ear by inches.

“Dare I ask what they do eat,” Dustpan asked as he ducked yet another near hit that sliced a few strands from his mane, which spun away in the wake of the metallic creature.

Screwball floated, unconcerned as razor clams zipped all around her and simply tapped her chin in thought, “You know, I honestly can’t remember. It was something very common there are lots of them about.”

Dustpan dived to one side as another clam swooped right for his head this time and he spun crazily in the back draft as more clams closed in. Screwball completely oblivious to Dustpan’s mounting terror continued to tap her muzzle deep in thought, “I’m sure it began with a ‘P’ and they are very common in Equestria.”

“Please oh please oh please don’t say it’s Ponies!” Dustpan yelled as more razor clams closed in.

Screwball scrunched up her muzzle up in disgust, “Of course not you silly colt, father would never keep anything so dangerous about.” Screwball tilted her head as another thought struck her, “Well I don’t think he would....then again he always said he wanted to liven the place up a bit.”

Dustpan let out a garbled cry as the clams closed in and the light was blocked out by the wall of shimmering bodies. He closed his eyes and prayed to Celestia with all his heart, just as Screwball mused further, “No, I’m sure it wasn’t ponies they ate.....”

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