Two Background Ponies Revisit Season Four

by Piccolo Sky

Leap of Faith

Leap of Faith

Sam was more annoyed than usual.

On this week's cookie outing, Carl had somehow managed to scare up a lab coat, a scientific notepad, and even one of those "fountain quills" that he was using to make notes with. If that wasn't enough, a tape recorder was playing nearby, seeming to be dictating everything for posterity. He wasn't sure what all of this was for, but it could only mean one thing...the green stallion was testing another one of his insane conspiracy theories.

"...Is all of this really necessary, Carl?"

"Don't talk, Sam. You're ruining the tape. Ok...ready to begin." He cleared his throat. "Clinical Trial 198, Incarlsistency reporting. About to administer the test of the theoretical control coding right now to subject: Listens-to-Carl's-Problems, Sam."

"...Carl what are you-"

"Shh! Beginning test now!"
After saying this, he turned and looked to the blue stallion calmly.

"Sam, can I have a bit?"

Sam furrowed his brow. "...Excuse me?"

"Sam, can you give me a bit?"

"...No, I can't give you a bit. You still owe me 190 for all those pies I had to buy you back in Manehattan."

"Sam, will you please give me a bit?"

"You're not getting any more money out of me, Carl! Is this some sort of stupid test to see if you can force me to lend you money? It's not working!"

Suddenly, Carl broke into a jingle from a candy commercial, only with the words replaced.

"Give me a bit!

Give me a bit!

Won't you please give me a...

BIT RIGHT NOW!"

Sam fished into his pocket, and a moment later put a bit on the table in front of Carl.

"There you go."

Carl grinned as he took it and checked his notebook. "Test successful. I can already smell the 'Neigh-bel Prize' in Psychology..."

Sam blinked a few times, then formed a look of shock. "Wait...what the... The hell?! Carl, how'd you get me to give you more money?"

"It was easy, Sam. I exploited your brainwashing."

"You WHAT?!"

"Relax...it's not like I'm the one who brainwashed you, Sam. Someone else did you along with me and everypony else. Essentially I can get you to do anything I want so long as I sing it to you. I got the idea when I realized everyone was flocking back to those two jackasses in spite of being cheated once by them already. On that note..."

He leaned over and seized a bottle from Sam's side. "I see you've been knocking back the Mint Apple Snake Oil yourself."

Sam blinked a few times, but then groaned and slumped as he realized he had been tricked. "...I guess that explains why I got suckered in on them again. But wait a sec...how come you didn't get brainwashed by them with their latest catchy tune?"

"Easy, Sam. I told you I've had 'Let It Go' stuck in my head for four months. That's why I had to record this. I can't hold onto a pen long enough to actually finish writing a sentence."

Sam leaned up. "Wait a second...are you saying we're all brainwashed to do whatever anyone wants when they sing it? If that's the case...who did it?"

"Well, naturally, the princesses are the most likely suspects, but I noticed that Celestia is tone deaf and Luna can't carry a tune. The next likely guy is...well...you-know-who...but he can only talk-sing. There's a few other suspects, but in the end I concluded there's no actual wicked intent behind it. It's likely it's just the part of our DNA that allows us to join together naturally for musical numbers. Still, I suspect there's at least somepony out there who knows enough about this to exploit it for evil. I got the idea when I thought hard enough about last summer's big radio hit."

"You mean... 'Would You Kindly Go to Andrew Ryan's Office and Kill the Son of a Bitch' by Atlas Shrugged?"

"I always thought that was a weird song title...even for a country song. Anyway...thanks for helping me out with this test, Sam. I'll see you later!"

Carl got up to leave, but soon Sam stopped him by shooting out a hoof and grasping him on the shoulder.

"Waitaminute... You're not going anywhere yet, Carl. I know how your obsessive-compulsive mind works." He looked down into his lab coat, seeing a paper protruding from his pocket. "...What's that you've got there?"

The green stallion paled. "Er...nothing."

"Nothing, eh?" He reached down, seized it, and brought it in front of him.

"Just...a song I wrote called 'Indifferent Saturday'..." Carl said meekly. "It's nothing... Here, give it back..."

Sam held him at arm's length and looked over it. After a moment, he frowned and glared at his friend.

"...Carl, this has to be one of the more depraved things I've ever seen you do before. One verse is nothing more than telling your sister to move out. The next verse is telling me to offer to pay for the cookies on all of our outings. And the third verse is just plain telling your co-workers to punch themselves in the faces again and again...followed by a two page refrain that is nothing more than 'and again' over and over! On that note...I'd like my bit back before I sing a song about you getting your sack stuck in an apple press."

"Ok, ok! Here!" Carl yelped before quickly handing over the bit. "You can't blame a guy for trying, though!"

Sam crumpled up the song sheet and threw it into the garbage. "You're just lucky no one else got ideas like yours and tried to exploit us. Now hurry up and get changed out of that stuff so we can go to town hall and do our weekly song about how much the monetary elite in Canterlot are our natural and genetic superiors."

---

So…ever get that ‘Neigh-bell Prize’?

Sigh…no. Apparently I administered the ‘antidote’ unwillingly. Remember how I told you I’ve had “Let It Go” stuck in my head for four months after I gave you the test?

Yeah.

…What are those lyrics again, Sam?

Sigh… “The snow glows white on the mount tonight, not a footprint to be seen; a kingdom of isolation, and it looks like I’m the queen; the wind is howling like the swirling storm inside, couldn’t keep it in, heaven knows I tried; don’t let them in, don’t let them see, be the good girl-”

That’s enough. Bottom line…it got stuck in your head too right after I told you that, didn’t it?

…It did, actually.

It’s stuck in everypony’s head now. They’ll have to brainwash us again just to get it out.