The Curious Adventure of Zapple Dapple

by kudzuhaiku

Part Two

Celestia settled her swanlike body upon her throne, trying to get settled, easing into the cushions. She fluttered her wings for a moment, trying to smooth her feathers. Her serene features were gone, her face now one of agitation.

“What makes good ponies go bad?” She honked, her voice echoing through the room, causing the guards to jump slightly at the sound the swan-like princess had made.

“An ordinary foal just waking up one day and going off on a spree of mayhem.” Celestia trumpeted.

It puzzled her. Celestia simply could not figure out why otherwise good ponies sometimes went bad. Ponies, were, for the most part, harmonious creatures. Sturdy members of the equine race. Content to cluster together in sociable herds.

But every now and then, one pony just had to go and get the whole herd riled up. And on the rare occasion that it happened, it always left Celestia rather depressed.

Like now.

She heaved a sigh and looked around her, realising there were no answers to be found here. The guards were remarkably silent. None had even tried to answer her.

The guard were certainly no help at all. They were practically cardboard cutouts. Standing around, tails occasionally flicking, never once engaging the princess in philosophical discussions.

It was infuriating being a princess sometimes, Celestia thought. Oppressive silence filled the hall. At least Discord could be counted on for lively debate. It was so silent that even the crickets had split.

There were no answers to be found here, but perhaps elsewhere…

Elsewhere, on the edge of Ponyville…

A small unicorn filly trotted down the lane. She was a sunny yellow colour, with soft pastel blue, green, and pink mane and tail, and she had a flashlight for a cutie mark. She smiled broadly, seeing the town, looking at the many ponies. She smiled and waved, and the ponies smiled and waved back, being the friendly equines that they were.

She continued into the town, her eyes wide in wonder, her stubby little horn twinkling with the occasional spark.

Elsewhere, and down the lane…

The Cakes stood in their bakery. It was another one of those sorts of days. Beautiful. Perfect. The kind of day that brought many customers. Breakfast had been busy, and lunch had been almost overwhelming. Zapple Dapple was in the back, washing dishes. Pinkie Pie was playing with the twins.

Mrs. Cake snuck a kiss from her husband, which was interrupted by the bell ringing as the door opened.

A little yellow filly foal stood in the bakery.

“What makes good ponies go bad?” She asked, her wide eyes blinking.

Mr. Cake stood there, baffled. Mrs. Cake struggled to find words.

“A few days ago…” the filly said sweetly, “a colt was very naughty. He came in here and stole a cupcake. I’d like to know why.” The filly questioned.

“Would you like a cupcake?” Mr. Cake asked.

“You would give me a cupcake?” The filly questioned.

“Yes.” Mr. Cake said. “If you said please, I think I would.”

The filly nodded, thoughtful, her mane slipping into her eyes. “What about the naughty colt? If he had come and said please, would you have given him a cupcake?”

Mrs. Cake moued. “I don’t know.” Mrs. Cake said, her words honest. “I suppose so, had he been polite. Or if he seemed distressed, as you are now.”

“So…” the filly said, “his theft was unnecessary. He could have asked politely and probably received a treat.”

“You have a remarkable vocabulary dear.” Mrs. Cake said.

“Thank you!” The filly nodded. “But that is beside the point. I am trying to determine why good ponies go bad. The theft did not need to happen, most likely, but he still robbed you. I want to know why.”

“Would you like to ask him?” Mr. Cake asked.

“No!” The filly replied, rubbing her nose and scowling. “I was hoping some sensible adults might tell me a good reason.”

“We don’t know dear.” Mrs. Cake said. “We do know that he is a fine kitchen helper.”

The filly nodded. “Thank you.” She said, smiling broadly. “I must be going.”

“Would you like a cupcake dear, before you go?” Mrs. Cake said, looking hopeful.

“Oh yes please!” The filly said. “You are very kind to offer.”

Mrs. Cake moved to fetch a cupcake for the fine mannered filly…

Elsewhere, and down the lane…

Bon Bon was wiping a window of her shop when she noticed a sunny yellow filly approaching. She backed away, moving away from the door and the window, and set down her cloth upon a table.

“Welcome to my shop!” Bon Bon said cheerfully.

Lyra poked her head out the door from the kitchen. “Hi.” Lyra said.

“Do you want some candy?” Bon Bon asked.

“No.” The filly replied. “I’d like to ask a question if I may.”

Bon Bon stood there, slightly confused. “Okay.” She said, her voice wavering. Things were a little weird lately. Why, there had just been a robbery.

“Who do good ponies go bad?” The filly asked. “Why do otherwise good foals decide to do bad things?”

“I don’t know.” Bon Bon said, looking concerned.

Lyra emerged from the kitchen and joined them.

“Why did that naughty colt rob you?” The filly questioned.

Lyra scratched her nose and looked thoughtful.

“I suppose he wanted what every other foal wanted.” Bon Bon said. “And he just didn’t have a way of getting it otherwise.”

“If he would have asked politely for a candy, do you think you might have given him one?” The filly asked, her wide eyes full of questions not asked.

“Maybe.” Bon Bon said. “Most likely. I think I could spare a piece of candy now and then.”

“What if the whole orphanarium came in here and asked for candy?” The filly asked.

“Well, I couldn’t do that.” Bon Bon said, scowling. “That’s a lot of foals all at once.” Bon Bon suddenly looked very sad. “But I would want too.” Bon Bon kicked a hoof into the ground and squirmed.

“That seems very unfair somehow.” Lyra said. “How does one decide who gets candy and who doesn’t? Suddenly, it seems a bit wrong to give candy away to one foal and not give it away to all foals.” Lyra protested.

“Would you like a piece of candy?” Bon Bon asked.

The filly shook her head no. “Not until all foals can have a piece of candy.” She said, looking upwards at Bon Bon, her mane spilling away from her face.

“That is very noble of you.” Lyra said. “What is your name?”

“My name…” the filly said slowly, “is Spot Light.”

“It is a pleasure to have met you Spot Light.” Lyra said.

“Likewise.” The filly nodded. “And I really must be going.”

Elsewhere, and down the lane…

Spot Light strode down the road feeling very unsure of herself. She hadn’t had a day this troubling, since, well, a long long time. Nopony seemed to know why good ponies went bad. So far, this troublesome day had only brought more questions.

Why give a foal a piece of candy if you couldn’t give candy to all foals?

Spot Light’s brow furrowed and her ears drooped. She looked rather cranky. She sat down in the grass, pondering, silently, alone. No answers seemed forthcoming.

Not too far away, there was an apple cart and an orange mare. An honest orange mare, the filly reflected. Maybe she would know.

Spot Light rose and strode forward, walking over to the orange mare, and tugging gently on her tail.

“What makes good ponies go bad?” Spot Light asked.

The orange mare pushed her hat back on her head, revealing her face. “I don’t rightly know.” The orange mare said. “I wonder that myself.”

The filly nodded.

“Would you like an apple?” The orange mare asked.

The filly shook her head no. “No thank you.” The filly said politely. “I must be going.”

“You sure are awful sweet.” The orange mare said. “Shucks.”

The filly trotted away, looking for answers elsewhere.

Elsewhere, and down the lane…

It was the perfect day to be having lunch at the cafe. But then again, any day was the perfect day to be having lunch at the cafe, Rarity thought to herself. She sat, relaxing, on a comfortable cushion on a patio, sitting near a table, Fluttershy close by. Steam rose from their tea. The soothing scent relaxed the two mares. Fluttershy was devouring a cucumber and watercress sandwich with dainty bites.

“Such a marvelous way to pass the time.” Rarity said. “What did ponies do before there were cafes? How did we pass the afternoon?”

Fluttershy said nothing but continued nibbling.

“Excuse me ma’am…” a small filly said, “but may I trouble you with a question?”

“I suppose so.” Rarity said, charmed by the filly’s grace.

“What makes good ponies go bad?” The filly asked, looking ever so hopeful.

“Why, I do not know.” Rarity said, looking shocked.

“I am not sure if there are bad ponies.” Fluttershy said. “Just ponies that sometimes make mistakes.”

Rarity nodded at Fluttershy.

“But then explain Blueblood.” Rarity said, thoughtful.

“Blueblood is a mistake.” Fluttershy squeaked in a tiny voice. “And maybe a bad pony.”

The filly cleared her throat.

“Yes dear?” Rarity asked.

“What makes a foal do bad things?” The filly asked.

“I suppose they are just naughty.” Rarity said. “Full of mischief. Most of the time, it is harmless.”

“Like soiling bathwater?” The filly asked.

Rarity eyed the filly suspiciously.

“I think I should be going. Thank you for your time.” The filly said.

Elsewhere, and down the lane…

Spot Light approached a green earth pony, who was sitting and sunning herself on a large rock.

“Hi!” Said Key Lime, seeing the filly.

“Hello.” The filly said. “My name is Spot Light.”

“And my name is Key Lime.”

“Key Lime?” Spot Light asked. “What makes a good pony go bad?”

Key Lime paused, looking thoughtful, scratching an ear with her hoof. “I dunno.” She said, after some time. “I’ve thought about doing bad things, but I haven’t. I’m afraid of being in trouble.”

“So fear keeps you from being a bad pony?” Spot Light asked.

“Maybe?” Key Lime answered.

“So why do good foals do bad things?” Spot Light answered.

“Maybe they stop being afraid?” Key Lime replied.

“Maybe.” Spot Light agreed.

“Zapple Dapple went bad.” Key Lime said. “And I am glad he did.” Key Lime smiled broadly.

“Why?” Spot Light asked.

“Because he kissed me. And now he has a home. And one day, we’re going to have a home together. I just know it. He was naughty, but it all worked out okay in the end.” Key Lime said, smiling.

Spot Light suddenly felt a brief pang in her heart. “So good things can come from a pony going bad?” Spot Light asked.

Key Lime nodded enthusiastically.

“I see.” Said Spot Light. “I must be going. If you go into the bakery, and ask politely, they will probably give you a cupcake and you may be able to see Zapple Dapple.”

“Really?” Key Lime asked.

Spot Light nodded and took her leave.

Elsewhere, and down the lane…

Twilight Sparkle sat in her library, watching the door warily. Weird things were happening in Ponyville. There had been a spree of mayhem and now there was word of a filly asking troubling philosophical questions from the townsponies.

Twilight felt her heart in her throat when the door opened and a yellow filly entered, a flashlight for a cutie mark.

“Let me guess,” said Twilight Sparkle, “what makes good ponies go bad?”

The filly looked shocked, and nodded.

“I don’t know.” Twilight said. “What makes innocent fillies ask such philosophical questions?” Twilight asked.

The filly’s eyes went wide with surprise, her ears drooping backwards against her head, her mouth open in a alarm.

“Can’t a filly ask questions?” The filly asked. “You certainly did.” She added. Too late, Spot Light realised she had said too much. She turned tail and split, hightailing it from the library.

Elsewhere, and outside of town…

Spot Light sat, watching the sun set in the distance. She looked sad, puzzled, and more than a little frustrated. Nopony had a good answer for her questions. In fact, the day had only brought more questions. Painful questions.

The troubling thing was, nopony seemed overly concerned about a filly out and about on her own, as the sun began to set. Ponies passed by her, nodding, saying hello occasionally, but nopony asked if she was alright, if she was alone, where were her parents.

She was rather hungry and her belly growled. She sat there, ignoring it, watching the orange clouds settle into purple.

She rose, and began to walk back through Ponyville, the darkness settling over the town.

Elsewhere, and down the lane…

Nopony had stopped to ask her if she should be out this late. She had walked through the entire town, to the other side, and nopony seemed concerned at all about a filly out alone.

She stood in front of the orphanarium, looking up at the stone building, feeling a little humbled and frightened.

She entered.

She stood in the main hall, shivering slightly from the chill of the evening. A mare saw her and clucked her tongue.

“Another one.” The unicorn mare said, gesturing to Spot Light, and leading her along. Spot Light followed. “You’re late! Bad foal!”

Spot Light cringed. What an awful thing to come home to.

She was led to a long hall full of beds. She hadn’t had dinner she had noted. Just taken to a bed. The mare pointed, indicating for her to get in, which she did. She bed was rather lumpy, a sack stuffed with straw for a mattress. It was cold in here. She had one thin ratty blanket with holes in it. Her stomach rumbled alarmingly.

The lights went out, leaving the room in total darkness, a creeping blackness that made her feel afraid for some reason. She squirmed in the bed, miserable and feeling very alone, every lump and pokey bit of straw irritating her side. The bed and the blanket smelled awful.

Spot Light took a long shuddering breath and began to weep.

After a few moments, she realised she was not alone, hearing the sounds of those around her, also weeping. Cries filled the dark room. There was no comfort to be found. She trembled in the darkness, suddenly feeling very ashamed of herself.

Shame on you, she thought. You’re a very naughty foal.

The tears became a flood as she cried herself to sleep in the darkness.

Author's Note:

Do not spoil this in the comments!

But please, do leave comments. They are very much appreciated.

And for the Celestia group that said this story wasn't a fitting story about Celestia, you are a very naughty foal, and you should be ashamed.

And yes, Spot Light is Celestia. Since there seems to be some confusion.

Comments

[Xhoral1865]

We don’t know dear.” Mrs. Cake said. “We do know that is a fine kitchen helper.

You seem to be missing a 'he' in there.

We don’t know dear.” Mrs. Cake said. “We do know that he is a fine kitchen helper.

[Callos Sombra]

Good story so far, just sad to think places like that can be so horrible, I'd adopt a foal or 10 just to get them away from that.