• Published 17th May 2012
  • 4,759 Views, 230 Comments

R.3.A.R. - Wand3r3r3



The Cutie Mark Crusaders form a not-so-secret swat team devoted to battling an unknown attack.

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(R)Interval+01_ACCUSATION

R.3.A.R.


{----- [[[[[-Interval+01_ACCUSATION-]]]]] -----}

Apple Bloom was running; sprinting away from something. She had no idea what she had encountered back at the park, but whatever it was, it scared her to death. In her mind, she put herself farther away than she really was, however, passing the wrecked school grounds to her right, which only marked a hypothetical 'halfway point'. She hadn't missed the feeling of her lungs working themselves way past their limit, but she felt the need to keep herself running, exhausted as she was.

She really was scared to death.

She soon began to reach the clubhouse again, but she still ran: she wouldn't stop until she saw either of her friends, in their non-violent, realistic selves. Like the whole trip, she kept her head down out of instinct, but she came to an instant halt when she bashed her head into something—

Something rather plush, fortunately for her.



"Heeey, App!!” Sweetie Belle called, happy to see her again. Apple Bloom rammed headfirst into the Unicorn’s rear end, as the filly's tail swung to the side at the worst possible time. "Where have you been??"

“Oh . . . Hey!" she responded, trying her best to keep her exhaustion to herself. She clearly couldn't, but the shock that one of her friends was still alive and as she remembered—even though it was Sweetie Belle, in all her perverted nature—relieved her more than it brought her closer to a heart attack. She had all the reason in the world to think that it had gone straight to hell. It hadn't, apparently, and Apple Bloom was left in slightly less confusion than before, but still enough to have her fallen onto her butt and stuttering within her words. Sweetie Belle only stared at her.

“Do that again,” she said with a sly grin, associatede with her silly request. Sweetie acted as if she were completely oblivious to the fact that something was clearly wrong with her friend, but she wasn't: the Unicorn knew the times to take matters seriously, and this was one of them. "Hey Apple Bloom," she started up again. "You really don't look so good." She prompted herself to assume that there was a reason she was out of breath. She turned to walk toward the path she came from. "There's a reason why you didn't get Scootaloo's calls?" It's been a while."

“Se2!" Apple Bloom threw herself at Sweetie to stop her. "Don’t. . .go that way.” She pointed her foreleg toward the path she came from. “The old school . . . Ah' think it's haunted or somethin'." However, she just laughed and made fun at her ridiculous assumption.

“Really??" she gasped in surprise. "Like, our school?"

"Yeah, but I dunno. . .but there's somethin' out there that's out to get me and I have to hide!" Apple Bloom shouted. She circled around Sweetie, and then around the side of the tree, toward the catwalk leading up to the clubhouse. Sweetie followed her like a puppy with how concerned she had become; she almost became an obstacle to her as she insisted that she explain the situation:

"I bet'cha I know why it’s haunted. . .” she started. Apple Bloom knew she wasn't being serious and ignored her completely. She eventually ran toward Scootaloo, who was standing on her hind legs and leaning against the tree. All the while, though, Sweetie continued her theory: “Big Mac and Cheerilee were doing it all the time in the school. Like, after classes and stuff, and his dripped babies were unborn. And nooowww they want—"

Scootaloo extended one of her legs out as Apple Bloom passed her, tripping the running filly and sending her flying a short distance. Sweetie made herself useful and dove down underneath her, catching her with her back before she would hit the ground. Apple Bloom muffled a watered-down swear she muttered and looked at Scootaloo with furrowed brows and gritted teeth, seeing a mobile phone in her own hoof, brought to her ear with a quiet voice emitting through its speakers. All the while, Sweetie came to the conclusion of her story, to which she applied heavy emphasis to. She gave her best impression of what a ghost would sound like, even through her boisterous voice.

“Reeeevvveeeeeeeeenge!!!”

"Hey, slow down," Scootaloo said before she covered her microphone. She pushed off the tree and started walking away from them. "You too, AB."

Just then, Apple Bloom was sure she heard something out of the ordinary; something that didn't fit in with the Unicorn's loud vocal antics. She freaked out and stuffed Sweetie's mouth shut with her hoof. “Do you hear that?” she said. She looked all around, hoping that her friends' company would have driven the nightmare away by now. The frightening whispers from before still echoed in her head, though; it felt like blood was pumping to all areas of her body but her head, leaving only her fear to think for her. She only listened to the fading voice coming from Scootaloo's phone as she walked away, but that wasn't anything like she was listening for. "Do you--"

“Yeah, I do!” Sweetie managed to blurt out, licking Apple Bloom's hoof. “Kinky!” She then proceeded to suck on it, and that really made the filly fairly uncomfortable. She tried pulling it out of her mouth but it was much more difficult than she'd thought. She pulled until her hoof popped out of her mouth, but she also fell to the ground as a result. She decided to lay on the ground for a while; to try and catch her breath, more than anything.

"Actually," she sighed. "it might not be the school that's haunted. . ." There was barely a real threat present here, and she knew her friends would have her back if anything weird happened again. She gave herself two minutes to rest before she got on her hooves again, heading after Scootaloo. "Hey," she called. "So2!" She still stumbled a bit, as the injured muscles in her leg hadn't healed; she only dealt with them. She made her way along the path Scootaloo took around their clubhouse. She could hear her own boisterous voice from around the corner. "What the heck are you doing?"

"You sure you don't need a lift?" Sweetie asked of her.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said, wishing Scootaloo would have stopped what she was doing for one second. She wished Sweetie would take things more seriously as well. And speaking of the dirty-minded Sweetie Belle, her demeanor suddenly changed once again.

"Oh, okay!"

"But hey, I guess-"

Interrupting her once again, Sweetie caught up to Apple Bloom and pressed her head against her rear, pushing her forward as her hooves dug into the ground, leaving a trail behind them. The filly wasn't amused one bit.

"Yeah, I guess you're going to anyway. Thanks." Whether or not the Unicorn was aware of the sarcasm, she accepted her thanks.

"You're welcome!" she said. They started moving faster, as did her story: "But Big Mac didn't stop. He just kept going! He was freakin' pounding Cheerilee’s ass!"

“Se2, please. I'm beggin' ya, here. Just. Bucking. Stop.”



Scootaloo sat on the ramp that led up to their clubhouse, still having a conversation with her phone. She saw her friends following her, then she pressed a button on her phone that dramatically amplified the volume of the voice she was talking to. She sighed.

Scootaloo's phone was different than her friends', primarily in the sense that it was just one device. While Apple Bloom's had physical buttons and shared a dongle inside her ear, hers was solely the flat surface in which she could operate with her hoof. Sweetie Belle owned one like Scootaloo's as well, but she rarely used it in public for some reason. The back of her phone was plastered in a single, shiny, mulit-colored decal of the Cutie Mark belonging to her personal hero: Rainbow Dash was that hero, and she was the one she had resolved to model herself after.

"Sup, champ?" said Scootaloo, as Rainbow Dash would have. "Been a while."

"You'd better not move again, So2," she said.

"Because she's not moving either," Sweetie intercepted. "I'm pushing her! See?"

Scootaloo looked at them, observing the shenanigans, "Alright, hold on," she said. Her lips then spoke into her phone once more. "Okay, okay. Wait. Lemme get this straight: I’ll meet you behind Sugarcube Corner tonight and you’ll have my money, right?”

“What the?? Scootaloo, come on; what are you tryin' to do? This is serious!”

“Hang on," she said into her phone. "Yeah, hang on a second. . .baby.” Scootaloo covered the microphone’s slot so that her voice would not enter through. “What the hell's going on? I’m trying to make us some money here.” Apple Bloom suddenly had the shivers again as she heard those voices from before; she feared they knew where she was.

“Pinkie Pie! Dead! Ghost. . .following me! This. is. Bad!!"

Scootaloo's expression was almost a little sarcastic. “Yeah-huh. Hold on, I'm swear I'm almost done." She turned her back.

Apple Bloom was both angry and confused now, leaving her feeling of fear and dread to idle; she wondered why her friends both mentioned how long she'd been gone. She recalled not getting the one, but the two calls from Scootaloo, but they both happened just before she left. . . She tried to recall even more from before the scene at the park, still rushing herself all the while: she needed to get inside and think instead of stand out in the open. And she was close, too.

"Hey, App!" Sweetie seemed to just burst in front of her, causing her to fall down onto her butt. "We're worried about you! Don't you wanna tell us what happened??" She was concerned for others' well-being when she wanted to be, but she was a real 'sweetie' at heart, underneath all the perversion.

"Se2, what the hay?!" she stammered. "I wasn't even gone for that long, now let me in!" Apple Bloom got right back up and staggered her way up past Sweetie, not even looking at her. She got inside the clubhouse and looked at Sweetie from out the window. It was then that she saw Scootaloo coming around the corner, phone strapped to left foreleg.

"Dude, AB, you need to chill," she called up to her. She used the filly's other nickname more favorably when there was a crisis present. "Sorry that took so long, but seriously, what took you so long? It's been a few days, you know." Apple Bloom knew she meant well—that they both did—but she refused to respond with more than a single as she scanned the area with the higher vantage point she had. Her friends decided to head up to the clubhouse themselves, Sweetie mentioning what Apple Bloom had told her. However, when they walked through the doorway that she left open, they both saw that Apple Bloom really wasn't okay: the filly was knelt below the windowsill had a dead stare out the window, her eyes darting around all she saw. She didn't even respond to either of them when they spoke to her—not immediately, anyway.

She finally said something. "You guys didn't hear any of that? At all?" She stayed where she was, but her friends approached her, albeit carefully; she was one of those fillies who would eventually give herself a heart attack due to her panicking. She managed to keep it together even as she distinctly recalled her friends coming after her, wishing her dead.

Even if it was just some weird blackout she had all so suddenly, she had every right to question reality, even still. But when Sweetie sat next to her, slumped against the wall, and Scootaloo doing the same on her opposite side, Apple Bloom felt comfortable. She felt Scootaloo's hoof on her left shoulder, and Sweetie's body nestling close before rest her head on her other shoulder. Scootaloo got more comfortable herself, leaning on her just a little bit. The Pegasus may have always come off as brash, but she wasn't afraid to get soft with her friends—definitely not.

"You suddenly afraid of us now or something?" asked Sweetie. Ironically, and unbeknownst to her, that was indeed. . .partly true. But that was also unrelated

"Would you guys believe me if I told you?" Apple Bloom replied to the both of them, her head slumped and looking to the ground. They could still hear her quietly catching her breath.

"Listen," Scootaloo started. We might not have the best track record as friend anymore, but we could definitely get that back, and I'm not gonna decide to hate you again. And neither is Se2."

"And neither am I!" Sweetie piped up.

Apple Bloom carefully got up and walked over to one out of the many desks further inside the clubhouse. She placed her hooves on it and leaned, looking out a different window this time. In the direction she was looking, she could only see the thick lining of trees that blocked off view of the path to the park. "It might not know I'm here," she said. "I'm gonna close the windows, though." And so she did, but her friends helped her; they all shut the windows and closed their curtains. They were thin, but Apple Bloom felt significantly safer regardless.

“Now, what’s this crazy talk about a ghost following you, again? Tell us."


----------



"Wow, what the hay. . . She's really gone." said Scootaloo. "Damn. . ."

"And I guess her ghost is after me for some reason. But yeah, I never heard anything about it before the four days you said I was gone."

"You keep on going; I'll to see if I can find any news about this."

As Apple Bloom nestled more details into her story, their effects weren't as effective as they very well could have been: the talk of her supernatural experience already had them going. Sweetie Belle was given a very self-conscious thought as she got up and headed toward a nearby desk, giving one more comment before taking a seat in a chair. And Scootaloo wasn't much different thinking about something that could hurt her, but that she also couldn't physically combat made her skin crawl.

"I don't really blame you for freaking out like you were," Scootaloo said as she and Apple Bloom also rose to their hooves. "I don't know what else I would've done."

"Yeah. . ."

They came to Sweetie's side and watched her laptop screen turn on as the system booted up. Scootaloo thought of asking Sweetie how many apps would need to load up before she would actually be able to use it, but she instead looked around the clubhouse in wonder, her mind half-blank. Silence reigned, with the exception of the whirring machine.

On the outside, anypony would likely assume that their clubhouse was of simple design, one whose other half wouldn't be nestled inside the greenery of the tree it was built upon; one whose interior wouldn't be filled with high-tech electronics spread around to all of its corners. But that clearly wasn't the case—it was all here. From the setup spread around the clubhouse—amatuer as it may have been—it resembled a small intelligence base within. The group had a slight fixation on electronics; even Apple Bloom had a few of her favorite devices. They were all inspired to make such a setup because of the time they spent writing for their school newspaper, back in their school days.

The long desks ran alongside the walls, and they each had a couple of lower-end devices, and, because they were pretty outdated, there were only a few hard feelings for Scootaloo when she stole them. The three fillies all shared the interest of splicing these electronics together, and from a few of the devices they deemed to be less valuable, they made a huge circuit board that they placed inside the desk in the middle of the clubhouse, kind of like what Sweetie recalled her sister, Rarity, being in the development of, for practical use in her boutique. Obviously, electronics weren't magic, and it was nothing close to as wondrous as holograms were, but they still created something cool that they were proud of, and used every now and then just for fun.

"If you say this thing's real. . ." said Scootaloo, still looking idly at the central desk.

"It is real!" Apple Bloom replied. "Her ghost is really really real!

"I believe you, I'm just saying . . . That's goddamn terrifying."

Sweetie Belle was finally able to enter the password for her computer, and after she did, the screen displayed the website she last visited. But, because this was her computer, she had been browsing for some naughty things. . .

"Shit," she said, likely as just an innate reaction and nothing more. "My bad." She went ahead and initiated a download of the paused video and promptly closed the webpage, without a concern in the world for what she made her two friends see.

"What in the hell did I just see!??" Apple Bloom asked of her? Scootaloo was the one who answered her, though.

"I don't even know, but I do know that Sweetie's into the weirdest stuff out there. Best not to ask."

"You like?" asked Sweetie, with a hint of smugness in her voice.

"Uhm, no!" she said.

Scootaloo grew impatient. "Screw it, it's gonna be faster if we use this thing." She headed toward—and gestured to, beckoning Sweetie to follow—the large table in the middle, the one with the technological congregation. "We still need your password, Se2."

Oooooh, you need the master's help, huh?" Sweetie said as she hopped down from her seat to join them. As soon as she could touch the electronics, she tapped the on-screen keyboard in a rhythm that unlocked her own personal profile. The three fillies shared this amalgam of a computer, but Sweetie was the one who mainly kept it up-to-date and had the know-how to take care of it properly, so whenever they needed her for literally anything—it wasn't as often as one might assume—she was pleased to help them, but not without a hint of cockiness in her demeanor.

“Pinkie. . . Pie.” She spoke the name she spelled out on one of the bigger screens with her hooves. Though, when her eyes moved toward an icon that would confirm her search, she saw the voice-recognition software at work—and already finished in mere milliseconds. hundreds of results appeared on screen, with the most recent result sitting at the top of a long column of other results. Sweetie skimmed through the previews of the first three links, looking closely and squinting her eyes.

"See," said Scootaloo. "Fast."

“Hey, guys. . . ?” she said. Her tone of voice sunk drastically, alerting her friends. They asked her if anything was wrong, but they could see it in her face when she looked up at them; she had a very good answer for them “Get over here."

“What do you see?" Scootaloo asked, concerned.

"Nothing good. . ."

She and Apple Bloom made their way around the corners of the table to lean in closer, upon Sweetie's instruction. Apple Bloom was the first to to shout out, in an unprecedented sense of denial. And Scootaloo followed her lead, the only difference being her dreadful habit of swearing:

"That's fuckin' horseshit right there."





“'APPLE JACK TAKEN INTO MAXIMUM SECURITY PRISON'!??”

"No, no! This is wrong! It's all wrong!!" Being Apple Jack's closest relative as of now, Apple Bloom knew that the news just couldn't be true. She doubted the news all the way to hell, and wondered why anyone would lie like this. Looking over all the headlines on screen, the caught sight of the name of the one she was reading. "This is all about Pinkie's death, but it's dated more than a week ago! Bull crap!"

“That's really weird. . .” Sweetie said. "According to this, Pinkie died before you even found out, and me and So2 didn't hear anyone talking about it. Surely no one would be taking it lightly."

Apple Bloom's anxiety hit her all over again, and Sweetie's words obviously didn't help her; though she, too, honestly doubted what she read. Scootaloo leaned in and picked up another part of the headline: “What the heck??" she shouted in her own words. She jumped to a section of the article that mentioned her own personal hero, made easier by the bold text: 'Rainbow Dash testifies in Apple Jack’s favor. . .as she denies that the accused killer'. . . ? She paused for a few more seconds, exchanging defiant looks with her friends before she got back to reading, louder in tone. 'That the accused killer had to have been her sister'. . . !? Apple Bloom??!” She couldn't believe what she was reading, and neither could Sweetie; Apple Bloom was nowhere near believing a single word Scootaloo said, despite them not being the fillys' own. "Rainbow Dash?? What the hell. . . ?"

The three fillies were erratic in their reading; they all picked up different sections of the article. With a vengeful intrigue, Sweetie nudged her head in and continued reading Scootaloo's paragraph. "Listen to the rest of this," she said. 'However, since the filly was much too young to be tried as an adult, her older relative, Apple Jack, was taken into custody of the prison in her stead, as she was the one who brought the filly up. And therefore, she was responsible for the death of the mare who brought so many smiles to our faces."

Apple Bloom read and re-read the words to herself, taking it all in; taking her time and taking deep breaths. She decided to read a section she picked out herself:

"’There’s a reason Apple Bloom was gone for a week,’ proves reporter Featherweight, an experienced alumni from the elementary school not too far from where the murder occurred. He has been able to report, more or less, seven days of the convicted country filly playing a continuous a game with the mare of legend before it happened. She leaned over an open casket where the mare laid inside and," Apple Bloom stammered sarcastically. "she disintegrated her with. . ." She chuckled fearfully at the rather comedic line of text. "Dang, this is. . .just dumb." She was still very worried, though, about how everypony else would likely believe all these false words.

Sweetie butted in again, finishing the filly's sentence. "Laser vision?? What the heck, really?? Apple Bloom doesn't have laser vision!" She jumped to her now. "You don't actually have laser vision, do you?"

"Sweetie, I'm not no robot or anything like that," she said. "Now stop joking around! My big sister's in trouble!"

"Exactly!" Sweetie exclaimed. "You know these these guys have nothing on you, App!” If anything, the purest mutual feeling the three friends shared was outrage. Scootaloo had the hardest time containing herself, and Apple Bloom was having an oddly easy time doing it—on the outside, anyway. "I still talk to Featherweight, too. I'm definitely not sexting him anymore till he gives me answers." And so the Unicorn pulled her phone from the table and rapidly started typing away.

“Who in the hell can actually believe this?" Scootaloo asked out loud. "Like, to the point where they would actually believe this?!” And why haven't there been riots or anything like that?" This is super late. I'm sure it's just a big hoax or something, cuz hell, Rainbow Dash wouldn't pit any blame on anyone." Apple Bloom agreed with the main point she shared: she couldn't do much else to defend her name—not on her own, anyway.

"We've got your back," Sweetie appended, awaiting a response from her phone. "Whoever wrote this is a big butt!"

So, does this mean I have to be on my own?" said Apple Bloom, the thought binging out a crestfallen tone to her voice. That, and her mind wasn't about to rest anytime soon. "Like, leave town, maybe? Everyone probably hates me now, anyway."

"You're not going anywhere. We're fighting this!" said Scootaloo. "Like Se2 said, Featherweight needs to tell us everything, knowing he was involved in this. We're gonna get the truth out there and get Apple Jack back!"

"Actually. . ." Sweetie said aloud. "He says that he's just as surprised as we are, and he doesn't know anything about it either. He only just found out now, too."

"Well how can we believe him? He's the one who's accusing App, here."

“Hey Scoots,” Apple Bloom's voice chimed in. "Who was that guy you were talking to earlier? You called him 'baby' or somethin'"

“Huh? Oh, boy, I’m never one to remember most ponies' names. But why do you wanna know? You're not freaked out about this in the slightest? I can see it all over you. This is freaking retarded."

"Wait," said Sweetie. "The guy's voice. I think I recognize it. But hey, what was his voice like? If it's him, I think that'll help us."

"Yeah!" Apple Bloom agreed "I think I heard you guys talking about how he wasn't from around here. Maybe he'll know something about it. Just maybe. I think we're takin' a crazy chance, here, but you know."

Scootaloo awkwardly stuttered. "Um. . . He had a deeper voice than most of the guys around here, that's for sure. He said his name was . . . Shit, I think it was like, David or something."

"Oh! Hang on! We went to school with a guy named David, remember?"

"Yeah, but there's a ton of Davids around here, including this one who's visiting. You want me to get my yearbook, though?" Apple Bloom already made her way to get it from her corner of the clubhouse. She was quick about it; she lightly bit onto it and brought it over to the corner of the table, away from the electronics. The yearbook she owned was precious to her, as it was all about her last year at the school.

Sweetie opened it up and flipped to a certain set of pages; she knew where she was going. Sweetie Belle's memory was one of her strongest abilities, luckily. She had no idea to know if she was right or not, but nonetheless, she felt like helping out any way she could. And so she skimmed the photos of her classmates until she shouted out.

"Here! You know, the guy who had his Cutie Mark before anyone else in our class? The pencil?” she hinted. Apple Bloom and Scootaloo looked into the book and, with Sweetie's additional information, they did indeed remember their fellow classmate. They were impressed with how much help Sweetie was actually being right now.

“Hey, shit, it's Danger Dave!” Scootaloo said, having flashes back to her school days. “He knew, like, literally everything!”

“Yeah!” Sweetie Belle bounced up in the air in her sense of accomplishment.

"And yeah, I guess he was pretty hot." Scootaloo gave Sweetie a look of approval.

"Yeah!!"

“Dang it, we did! Wow, Se2, nice!” Apple Bloom thanked her.

"No problem, guys! I'm sure it was the lust helping a bit, too. His pencil was always pretty hot.” That was the last sexual joke they needed to endure before they could follow this new lead; before they could take some kind of fighting measure against the apparent attempt to flame Apple Bloom's name.

"Are you a hundred-percent sure this is who was on the phone?" Apple Bloom asked her; the last real confirmation the group needed as a whole. She didn't really doubt her, as she knew how good her memory served them in prior situations. But she still had to ask, at least, for time's sake.

"I mean, I remember him and Featherweight writing for our teeny school paper, and he might still have Dave's number, and then I could-"

"Don't you go talking to him, too. I still want to make some money off this guy." said Scootaloo, more than half-serious. "Don't you ruin it."


According to the plans that Scootaloo and the old classmate David made earlier, they were going to meet up in the back alley behind Sugarcube Corner—the town's largest local bakery—and conduct whatever business they had discussed. As they prepped some rookie equipment, such as an extra-small laptop that belonged to the group as a whole, Apple Bloom thought about how she had never gotten an answer out of her when she asked.

"So hey, Scoots," she started. "If you were on the phone with this guy. . .callin' him sexy and stuff. . .were you doing what I think you were doing?"

"Sexting? Nah, that takes too long. I was. . .planning on making us some money. You know?"

Apple Bloom partly understood; she knew it wasn't a sacred activity. "You mean, like. . ." she just couldn't say the words.

Sweetie took the words out of her mouth and spoke them herself: "Were you bite on his pencil without me?"

"Heh, that's what we agreed on, but if he's willing to pay more, I'll let you join in. App, too," Scootaloo looked at Apple Bloom, nodding defiantly, as she already knew the answer she would get. "If she wants to."

"Ehem, no, thanks," she said, blushing at the very idea.

"Plus, if I get tired, I'll really sic Se2 on him,” she added. Upon a second thought, however, she was certain that Sweetie would kill him if she let him as jump on him. "Actually, I'll ask him about that article first. If he knows even the littlest thing that'll help us out, I'll fucking bend his dick in half."

Apple Bloom giggled at Scootaloo's threat. "But won't that just make him mad?" She smiled, but the others didn't notice; they were ready to leave by the time she had come to be.

"Huh, true," Scootaloo replied, throwing a full saddlebag over a jacket Sweetie Belle helped her put on. They were both a deep grey, with buttons on the bag's strap, and on the jacket's sleeves and neck. "Maybe I’ll just bruise it or something. Bruise it really bad. . . Yeah, something like that."

Apple Bloom didn't have anything she wanted to bring along except for her phone. It was pretty much a necessity for her, especially now; with any way to record evidence being a viable reason to bring it along. She knew the importance of having it with her, but she hadn't yet developed the habit of always carrying it with her, somewhere on her body. She sat down and carefully velcro-ed it to her upper thigh, then got back up, walking toward her friends.

"So I guess you're all ready?

"She sure is," Scootaloo answered, gesturing to Sweetie. The Unicorn seemed to be anxious and ancy, and heading toward the door herself, ahead of Apple Bloom as she made her way to it, too. Scootaloo, however, tossed a bag over her shoulders hefore she joined them.

“So hey, let's go get this taken care of and find out where Apple Jack is!” The dedicated filly climbed up from the wooden floor and joined her friends as they both headed out the door She was nervous about all the eyes that would be on her, but if she was going to get answers, then she would endure the worst she could imagine. She loved her sister to death, and she wasn't going to make sure that herself and Apple Jack weren't just going to be victims.

It was to Sugarcube Corner they set forth for.



"Iiiiin-credible. . . Our old classmate wants a blowjob after years of not talking."

"We're mainly after answers, remember?"

"Right. Heh."