Cutie Marked for Death

by Gordon Pasha

Ten Years After

Manehatten.

Not the Manehatten they put on the tourist brochures, not the city of massive skyscrapers and chic modernity. No, this was the other Manehatten, the seedier, darker city that they don’t tell you about, because it’s the type of place no tourist would ever want to come within a thousand miles of. But to so many who have fallen through the cracks, to all those who cannot find a place for themselves in Celestia’s great society, this is home.

Somewhere in this other Manehatten, this city not of gleaming spires but of gloomy souls, there is a warehouse. And on one day in particular, that warehouse just happened to be the scene of a rather intense “negotiation.”

Inside, a group of impeccably-dressed individuals had gathered. At first glance, one would be forgiven for believing that this was some high-class shindig. But it was not a high-class shindig, for everyone here had a much darker purpose on their mind. And that purpose involved the young yellow mare with the red hair and pink bow standing on a pile of crates in front of them.

A large black stallion, clearly the leader of the group – and size was apparently his only qualification for the role – shouted, “Alright, ya little punk! Nowhere to go! So just drop the papers and maybe we won’t hurt ya… much!”

Apple Bloom gritted her teeth as she looked at the large host assembled beneath her. She pushed the manila folder close up to her chest with her foreleg and looked around for any means of escape. There was a skylight above her but she knew there was no way for her to get there – the pile of crates was tall, but not that tall. She could make a mad dash for one of the many exits, but she saw that goons were stationed at each, just ready to grab her at the first approach. Anyway she looked at it, Apple Bloom knew she was trapped. There was only one hope left.

“Come on, girls, where are ya?” she said under her breath.

“Hand it over already!” shouted the goon-leader.

“Neva!” Apple Bloom shouted back. “Ya want it, ya gonna have to come up here and take it!”

“Ooh, I hate that accent!” the stallion shouted back. “I’ve had enough of this! Get up there, boys, and get ’er!”

Apple Bloom saw them starting to charge up the crates and she knew she had to do something. Quickly she threw her head down to the pouch being held against her flank. From it, she removed an apple. She jerked her head upward, causing the apple to revolve in a circle around it. And then, apple broke from stem, with stem remaining in Apple Bloom’s mouth and apple going flying.

Naturally, none of the assembled goons paid much attention to this. It was just an apple, after all.

This is the type of thinking which has led to more blunders than the history-books of Equestria would care to admit, by-the-by.

The apple hit the ground and there was a flash of light and a howling noise. All the goons found themselves knocked very far from the crates – though a number of them found nothing but blackness, having landed on their heads. Those who were fortunate or unfortunate enough to still be awake did not have time to recover from this first booming crash. Another soon followed.
For, at this very moment, tearing through one of the far doors came two figures on a powerful, mechanized scooter.

Scootaloo made a sharp right turn and Sweetie Belle threw herself from the scooter, going into a barrel roll. When she had recovered, she levitated the rifle from over her shoulder into a firing position, and then let loose a string of peas (it was a pea-shooter) at a number of thugs who had gotten back to their feet and were ready for a brawl. Soon, most of them had been once more sent to the ground.

Apple Bloom found the crates teetering from the blast. She knew she could not stay upright for much longer, because the whole precarious structure was about to come tumbling down. And what was worse, a couple of goons had recovered from the blast and were now once more coming after her.

But she saw Scootaloo driving up toward her position on the scooter. Taking a mighty leap, Apple Bloom went soaring through the air. Scootaloo managed to just slide the scooter into the right position to catch Apple Bloom as she landed. Having secured her friend, Scootaloo put the scooter to full speed and got out of the area just as the crates came down. The thugs were not so lucky.

“What took ya two so long?” Apple Bloom scolded. “Ah was nearly apple-crumble here!”

“Hey, you think we had it easy?” Scootaloo shot back after recovering from the shouting to her ear. “Me and Sweetie Belle got cut off by a couple of their goons in carriages. We had to race through half the city just to get away from them!”

“They didn’t follow ya here, did they?” Apple Bloom asked.

Scootaloo smiled proudly. “You kidding? I left them to cool off in the river. They should have floated half-way to Fillidelphia by now!”

“Good work!”

“I know.”

As the duo turned another corner, they got a clear view of Sweetie Belle doing her best to fend off a large number of thus. She was a quick shot with the pea-shooter, but even she could not take them all on.

“Sweetie Belle’s in trouble! We gotta get there, fast!” Apple Bloom said.

Scootaloo looked back at her, mischief dancing in the young pegasus’ eyes. “Well, when you put it like that…. Do you mind a little music and lights?”

Apple Bloom rolled her eyes. “Ah, if ya must….”

Scootaloo turned back to the crowd facing Sweetie Belle. Her face turned positively devilish as she pushed the button on the scooter handle. A great screeching issued forth from the scooter as the cannon mounted to the front came to life, launching a crackling firework in the horde’s general direction.

It took the crowd completely by surprise. All had heard the noise before the rocket made contact, but few had the chance to get out of the way. Those who took the brunt of the impact were sent hurling into those who had not, and soon the whole circle had fallen like dominoes onto the ground. This left only Sweetie Belle standing.

As she realized what had just occurred, Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes and shook her head in disgust. “Music and lights,” she said.

“No time for complaining!” Scootaloo called out as she pulled up the scooter at Sweetie Belle’s position. “Get on!”

Sweetie Belle did not need to be told twice. She took her place on the scooter behind Apple Bloom and soon, the three were speeding for the exit.

“Um, girls, I think we forgot something,” Sweetie Belle said, looking behind her.

“What is it?” Apple Bloom responded as she and Scootaloo also looked. There, they saw the great black stallion quickly bearing down on them.

“Somepony care to take care of that?” Scootaloo said as she focused once more on the steering the scooter. Sweetie Belle levitated her pea-shooter and began to aim. She was surprised to see Apple Bloom’s hoof pushing it down.

“Let me,” Apple Bloom said.

Sweetie Belle flashed her an “Are you crazy?” look but Apple Bloom never saw it. She was already hard at work pulling two apples from her saddlebags. With a great circular heave, she sent them both flying. Two explosions rocked the support-beams right beside the entryway Scootaloo was speeding to. She managed to get the scooter through it just before that whole section of the warehouse collapsed. But the stallion was not so lucky. The last sight he saw was Apple Bloom spitting two apple stems out of her mouth.

“How’d ya like mah ak-sent now?” she said.

And then all was black.

Outside the facility, a single scooter sped away into the nearest side-street as the first police arrived on the scene. The cops never saw it or the three mares it was carrying.

“I think ya can slow down a bit,” Apple Bloom said when they had gotten a block or so away.

“I know,” Scootaloo responded. “But I’m having too much fun!”

“Scootaloo!” the other two yelled together.

“Okay, okay!” Scootaloo said as she lowered the speed from ‘high-speed getaway’ level to ‘moderately-fast-but-not-really-that-exciting-in-my-humble-opinion’ level.

“Did you get all the papers?” Sweetie Belle asked Apple Bloom.

“Ah, what?” Apple Bloom answered in confusion. And then it came back to her. “Oh, the papers!”

She looked down to find that, amazingly, she still held the manila folder tightly against her chest.

“Yeah, they should be all here,” she said. “Gee, wouldn’t it have been funny if, after all that, ah’d dropped ’em while throwin’ mah apple-bombs?”

Scootaloo laughed while Sweetie Belle grunted in annoyance.

“One of these days, we’ve got to be more careful or we might end up messing up something really important!” Sweetie Belle protested.

“Yeah, like that’ll ever happen!” Scootaloo said as she sent the scooter back into ‘high-speed getaway mode.’ The other two had not noticed it yet, but Scootaloo had caught sight of a ramp which was just calling her name…
.

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle let out startled screams as they found themselves and the scooter shooting through the air. It was not so much themselves which they were worried about as the manila folder which had been sent flying from out of Apple Bloom’s grasp. Sweetie Belle just managed to psychically grab onto it before it spilled its contents over the greater Manehatten area.

“Scootaloo!” They both shouted again just as the scooter hit the ground.

“Not apologizing for anything,” Scootaloo said as she reoriented the scooter.

“We don’t have time fer fun an’ games!” Apple Bloom said. “We got an appoin’ment to keep!”

“I know, I know,” Scootaloo responded as she got the scooter back onto its proper course.

---

“And you’re sure everything’s in here?” said a lilac-colored, white-maned unicorn with a serious expression as she magically leafed through the documents in the folder.

“We’re sure,” Scootaloo said with a self-assured nod.

“We double and triple-checked jus’ to make sure,” Apple Bloom added.

For the first time since they had known her, a real smile began to form on the unicorn’s face. “This has everything I need to bring to light Haycorp’s unethical business dealings. Once we get finished with them in the courts, there’s no way they’ll be able to force us all out of our homes.”

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” Sweetie Belle asked. “Taking on a corporation is a big job, no matter where you do it. And you know what courts are like.”

The unicorn smiled. “Don’t worry about it. If you three can take them on in the streets, I should have no trouble taking them on in the courts. Besides, I think I’m getting a knack for it.”

At this point, the unicorn turned in order to show them her flank, upon which was the cutie mark of a judge’s gavel.

“Hey, don’t look so surprised!” she said with a laugh at the three’s shocked faces. “You guys are the Cutie Mark Crusaders, right? Fighting injustice and helping ponies get their cutie marks – especially those of us who never found our calling when we were kids.”

“Yep, that’s us!” Apple Bloom said, a little bashfully.

“Never stop the journey until everypony gets their cutie mark, that’s our motto,” Scootaloo volunteered, equally bashfully.

“We never met a flank we couldn’t make less blank,” Sweetie Belle added, and then mentally kicked herself for how absurd that line sounded.

Then, as the unicorn looked away, the three quickly turned their heads to look at their own flanks. They tried to mute their sighs of disappointment when it was discovered that all three of their own flanks were still blank.

The three swiftly turned back around, embarrassed smiles trying to cover up what they had just done. But there was no need. The unicorn was still looking away from them. Her eyes were scanning the street and all of the buildings on either side of it. And they were scanning the ponies coming in and out of them – a simple folk, a happy folk, and, until very recently, a folk whose homes and livelihood had been threatened by corporate greed.

“You know, you’ve saved a lot of people with this. A lot of homes that will still be there, a lot of families that won’t have to try and find somewhere new to live. Nope, this neighborhood is going to survive. It’s going to do more than that – It’ll thrive! All these people owe you three a tremendous debt of gratitude.”

“Ah, shucks,” Apple Bloom said, “weren’t nothin’ at all!” She then silently berated herself for letting her down-home country way of talking burst through her hardened veneer.

“No, I mean it, you three are heroes,” the unicorn responded. “Now, how much did you say your fee was? Five-hundred bits?”

The unicorn put down the folder and began rummaging through a burlap bag beside her. The three Crusaders looked at each other, silently congratulating one another for another job well-done. But quickly into Sweetie Belle’s eyes came a look of unease. She moved them toward the large bag and then back to the other two. Apple Bloom grasped immediately what she was trying to say and the two of them then focused their gaze jointly on Scootaloo.

Scootaloo’s own eyes responded with annoyance but they softened quickly as the other two continued to give her encouraging looks. Finally she gave a little nod. At this very moment, the unicorn returned with a smaller bag (though not small in and of itself) levitating in front of her. The distinctive jingle-jangle told them that their payment was within.

Sweetie Belle spoke, “Actually, we’d like you to keep it. This neighborhood needs the money more than we do.”

The unicorn was stunned. “Are you… are you sure?”

The three nodded – Scootaloo with visible hesitation – and Apple Bloom said, “We’re sure, ma’am. We’ll do just fine on what we already got.”

“Please,” Sweetie Belle continued, “just take it and use it to help get this place back on track. Think of it as a parting gift from us.” Mentally, she noted that these last words seemed considerably well-chosen and congratulated herself on having made up for her previous blunder.

The unicorn’s eyes filled with light. She gave the three Crusaders another unprecedented sight; her calm, collected demeanor broke down as emotion flowed through her.

“Oh, thank you,” she said, “thank you for everything!”

Apple Bloom put her forelegs over Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo’s shoulders, and they did the same to her. “Just doing our job!” all three said in unison.

---

“Just doing our job!” Scootaloo snorted as the three walked into their favorite hangout.

It was one of those places which is often charmingly called a “den of depravity,” and the place was everything you would expect from such an epithet. While it was not run-down per se, the staff did a thorough job of making it look that way, in order to make the usual clientele feel all the more comfortable. Speaking of the usual clientele, they consisted of various types. Most were just looking to have some fun in ways which the law tended to frown upon and punish heavily, and they thus appreciated the dark little place where most things could be done and few things could be seen. But in the shadows, too, lurked much more dangerous figures, the type who could perhaps be counted on for bloodier deeds. At any rate, it was difficult to distinguish one type from the other in this joint, so nopony much interacted with anypony else unless they had business which needed to be settled. After all, somepony might take you down just for having to gall to bring yourself to their attention.

It was the perfect place for the Cutie Mark Crusaders.

“This neighborhood needs the money more than we do,” Scootaloo continued, doing her best to mimic Sweetie Belle’s voice. Then she said, “We-a do jus’ fine awn wat we a’ready gawt,” in an overly-pronounced attempt to copy Apple Bloom’s accent.

The other two just ignored her. They had grown too accustomed to this for it to even register anymore.

“How many times do I have to keep saying to you two that we can’t afford to be running a charity?” Scootaloo said. “That was a tough job, and now we’ve got nothing to show for it!”

“I thought nothing was a tough job for you,” Sweetie Belle teased.

“Well, I didn’t mean it was tough for me,” Scootaloo hastily explained. “But I noticed that you and Apple Bloom seemed like you were having a little trouble back there.”

“Oh, really?” Sweetie Belle responded. “Then remind me, who was the one that got herself cornered when she drove her super-scooter into a brick wall? And who had to distract the goons with her singing long enough for said-scooter maniac to escape?”

Scootaloo smiled bashfully. “Well, um…. All I’m saying is that we can’t put up a price and then refuse to collect when it’s all said and done! That’s two jobs in a row we put in all the work and got no profit!”

“You agreed to it at the time!”

“Yeah, I know, but I was practically outvoted.”

Scootaloo felt the need to backtrack after both Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom gave her looks. “Don’t get me wrong! It feels great to help out people like that. But we need something to live off of too! Otherwise we’ll become the Cutie Mark Crusaders Panhandlers at this rate!”

Sweetie Belle put her hoof to her chin thoughtfully. “I wonder what a cutie mark for begging for money would look like….”

“Ah, hush, ya two,” Apple Bloom said. “We ain’t gonna be reduced to panhandlin’. We got enough to live off of until our next big job comes along.”

“Okay,” Scootaloo said, “but we have to make some money on our next job, or else we won’t have enough bits left for an ice-cream cone!”

“Relax, Scoots,” Apple Bloom said. “Ah’ve already got our next job lined up. Babs is s’pposed to meet us here to explain it.”

Scootaloo scanned the darkened booths along all three levels. She was well-enough acquainted with the place to be able to see decently despite the low-level of lighting. “Well, I don’t see her anywhere.”

“It’s early. She probably won’t be here for a bit. Ya two go get our table and Ah’ll grab the drinks.” At which point Apple Bloom broke away from the group and approached the barkeep to order three ciders.

Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle continued walking to their table. It was one right on the other end of the bar, placed within its own little niche in the corner of the first level. It was not easy to see unless you were within the immediate vicinity, but it afforded a clear view of the entrance and the pathway to the bar. It allowed for privacy but also was central enough that you could cause a scene if anything went really wrong. It was, in a tactical sense, the best seat in the house. And currently, it was occupied.

Two young colts sat there. One was drinking one of those infamous large glasses of cider that are shaped like a boot while the other was reading the newspaper and seemingly getting very angry about something or other within. Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle were able to size them up immediately. They were the types who, despite not actually looking in any way physically intimidating, are intent on acting like they could beat anypony in the house to a pulp. It did not take a trained or experienced eye to see that an act was all it was, and a badly performed one at that. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo sighed and exchanged glances. Their two minds shared a single thought: Best to get this over with before Apple Bloom comes back with the cider.

“Hey, chums, this is our table!” Scootaloo said. “Get out!”

“He, we were here first,” said the one with the newspaper. He did not look up from whatever edifying story had caught his interest now.

“Doesn’t matter,” Scootaloo responded. “This table is ours! We always sit here!”

“Oh, it’s reserved for you?” the one drinking out of the boot responded. “Funny, I don’t think your name’s on it!”

“Actually, it is,” Sweetie Belle volunteered. “See, right down at the edge there, between the bullet holes and the dried blood.”

The colt looked in utter disbelief as Sweetie Belle’s hoof directed his eyes to a small golden plaque, on which was written, “Cutie Mark Crusaders.”

All color seemed to disappear from the colt’s face as he fell back into the booth. “The Cutie Mark Crusaders?”

Even the other colt seemed to lose interest in his paper, which fell to the table and stayed there. “I was just reading about them,” he whispered to his associate. “Paper says they’re vicious criminals. May be best not to tangle with them.”

“Better listen to your friend there,” Scootaloo said. “We are vicious criminals after all. Why, Sweetie Belle here doesn’t consider a day complete until she’s fulfilled her colt-capping quota.”

Both of the colts were now very visibly shaken. But the one who had until so recently been drinking from the boot-glass now pounded his hoof on the table and leapt up. Looking down menacingly at Scootaloo, he said, “I don’t care who you are! We aren’t just getting out of the way because somebody tells us! You’ll have to make us leave, runt!”

Scootaloo shrugged her wings. “Okay.”

When Apple Bloom reached the table with three ciders perched carefully on her back, she was greeted by two colts running in the other direction, one of whom was completely drenched in cider. She then saw Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo standing triumphantly by their table. In her mouth, Scootaloo had the handle of what had apparently used to be a very large drinking glass, the sharp shards of which were still littering the ground.

She spit the handle out and shouted after the colts. “If you want people to think you’re tough, maybe you should skip the souvenir glass next time!”

Apple Bloom carefully navigated her way past the shards on the ground and then placed the three glasses onto the table. “Did y’all have fun?” she asked.

“Not much,” Scootaloo said as she felt into her part of the booth and began riffling through the paper the colt had left. “They weren’t tough enough to be a real challenge.”

“Thankfully,” Sweetie Belle said as she and Apple Bloom took their places. “I think we’ve had enough action for one day.” This prompted a disgruntled pshaw from Scootaloo.

Sweetie Belle gave Scootaloo a cutting look, but she did not even notice it. She was too busy looking through the paper. “Hey, listen to this, guys. They got an article on us here.”

“Another one?” Apple Bloom asked in-between sips of cider. “What’s it say now?”

“Eh, same as always,” Scootaloo responded. Then she began to read aloud, “It’s now been ten years since the trio of juvenile delinquents known as the Cutie Mark Crusaders died in a blast of flame. Or, at least, that’s how the official story goes. The three were cornered in their clubhouse after planting the bomb that killed local magnate Filthy Rich, his family, and several passersby, only to blow themselves up at the end of a long standoff with the Royal Guard. But questions have always remained. While these have in the past revolved around Princess Twilight Sparkle’s handling of the crisis, and criticisms that she brought about the tragic outcome by mishandling the standoff and turning it into a siege have continued to dog her to this day, now new questions our being added that make what happened that fateful night all the more puzzling. The last few years have seen a rise in reports that the Cutie Mark Crusaders are still alive, and the stories being told about them seem to ignore their criminal past, making them into modern-day Robin Hooves that defend the downtrodden against injustice.”

“So, the same thing they always say,” Sweetie Belle said. “Is there anything new?”

“Well, this is,” Scootaloo said. “While the stories spreading about the Crusaders make them seem quite heroic, we would like to remind our readers that they are fugitives with a violent criminal past. It may be romantic to think that such types would want to atone for their misdeeds, but anyone with a real acquaintance with the world knows that such things rarely, if ever, happen.”

“What does that even mean?” Sweetie Belle exclaimed in frustration, feeling her head spinning just from Scootaloo’s recitation.

“It means they still think we’re no-good killers,” Scootaloo answered, not hiding the anger in her own voice. “They don’t want to give us a fair shake or anything!”

“Well, we always knew that was gonna be the case,” Apple Bloom suggested.

“Listen to this,” Scootaloo said. “Her Highness Princess Twilight Sparkle could not be reached for comment on these rumors. But a spokespony for the Princess had this to say, ‘Her Highness would like to remind everyone that she was cleared by a tribunal consisting of Princesses Celestia and Luna themselves of any wrongdoing in the Sweet Apple Acres incident and she finds it saddening that there are those who feel the need to keep reviving old accusations for their own ends. As to the rumors of the Crusaders’ survival, she wants it to be known that there is absolutely no chance that they escaped alive.”

“Ah, poor Twilight,” Apple Bloom said. “She didn’t do anything wrong, and yet she’s getting all the blame!”

“Just like us,” Sweetie Belle observed.

“Yeah, just like us,” Scootaloo said, her voice suddenly becoming distant. After a few moments of staring at the news story again, she added, “Do you girls ever miss it?”

“What, the newspaper?” Sweetie Belle asked.

Scootaloo shook her head. “No, do you miss… you know…. Life before… before everything?”

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle looked at one another. Neither of them quite knew what to say. It was not something which they had ever talked about before.

“Well, I guess so….’ Sweetie Belle said limpidly.

“Yeah, not much. Ah just miss mah family, mostly,” Apple Bloom said, her eyes looking down to her hooves. “Ah don’t miss much else, but ah miss Applejack and Big Macintosh and Granny Smith and even Winona. Ah miss livin’ on the farm and helping with the harvest. Ah miss the big family get-togethers and the reunions. Ah miss all that….”

“So not really much at all, huh?” Scootaloo said.

But Apple Bloom’s example had apparently given Sweetie Belle a better grasp on her own thoughts. She now spoke up. “I miss my family too! I miss my mom and my dad… and I even miss Rarity, even if she could be such a pain at times….”

Sweetie Belle looked downcast at the thought. Apple Bloom put her hoof on her shoulder. “Families sure can be trouble sometimes. But it’s funny how strange you feel without ’em.”

Sweetie Belle nodded at these sage words and then turned to Scootaloo. “What about you, Scootaloo? Do you miss life back then?”

Scootaloo shrugged her wings and let out a little laugh. “Me, miss life back in Ponyville? What do I have to miss? Especially when we’ve got so much fun and adventure right here!” But immediately after she said it, Scootaloo dropped her eyes to the paper and her face turned into a frown. She quickly tried to control it, since she did not want the other two to see, but it only half worked.

Apple Bloom noticed this but thought it might not be the best time to bring it up. Scootaloo could get overly-sensitive if pressed on subjects she did not want to talk about, and this was clearly something she did not want to talk about, despite her being the first to ask the question. Besides, thinking of a long-gone past would do nopony any good right now. So she grabbed the newspaper and pulled it over by her. “This is exactly what I wanted to talk to you girls about, though.”

“It is?” Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo said in surprise.

“Eeyup,” Apple Bloom said. “All these articles appearing lately. It’s bringin’ on too much heat.”

“Ah, don’t worry,” Scootaloo answered. “It’s not like any of these newspapers think we’re actually still alive! They just think it’s all rumors and gossip.”

“Don’t matter,” Apple Bloom responded. “The more they talk about us, the harder it’s gonna be for us to keep a low, er–” She waved her hoof in the air, signaling that she was looking for the right word.

“Profile,” Scootaloo volunteered.

“That’s right, a low profile,” Apple Bloom said. “So I think we gotta clear out, at least temporarily. Manehatten’s getting too hot. Let’s go someplace else until it cools down.”

“I don’t know, Apple Bloom,” Sweetie Belle said. “It seems like we have trouble staying out of the news no matter where we go.”

“That may be, but it’ll be better if its spread out a bit. Then people won’t think nothin’ of it.”

Scootaloo flapped her wings in discontent. “Where are we going to go? We can’t go back to Fillydelphia, not after what happened last time.”

Apple Bloom smiled as she looked up from the paper. “Don’t you worry about that. Babs is supposed to have a good gig lined up that’s pretty far from here. And I do believe I see her coming in now.”

What "gig" did Babs have for the Crusaders?

Read on.

Comments

[Didlsbrony4evah]

What "gig" did Babs have for the Crusaders?
Read on.

You have no idea how much I really want to, but there is no next chapter as of this moment.

Rest assured that once it is physically possible, I will indeed read on.

[thoughtCrime]

"This is the type of thinking which has led to more blunders than the history-books of Equestria would care to admit, by-the-by."
"Her face turned positively devilish as she pushed the button"
“How’d ya like mah ak-sent now?”
‘moderately-fast-but-not-really-that-exciting-in-my-humble-opinion’ level.
“Not apologizing for anything,”
she noted that these last words seemed considerably well-chosen and congratulated herself
“I wonder what a cutie mark for begging for money would look like….”

“Actually, it is,” ... a small golden plaque, on which was written, “Cutie Mark Crusaders.”
i love this exchange.

i wonder how the main characters are handling things? does twilight assume their guilt? what of the others? is there disagreement? what tensions or divides exist between the friends now? who maintains that they must be innocent? do they discuss the incident much or at all?

-SSII