The Great Moose Census of 1001

by shortskirtsandexplosions

Ten Moose

With a pale hoof, Sweetie Drops plastered the number "forty-three" over the northernmost edge of the Equestrian National Map, completely covering the city of Stalliongrad. She sighed, rubbing her tired, baggy eyes. In a limping gait, she backtrotted from the wall of her Ponyville bedroom, staring at the map and the many-many strings attached to each brightly-colored number and pin.

No matter how many connections she drew, another crisis popped up, and another reason to stab a pin into the map. And number it.

“Here moose... there a moose... everywhere a moose-moose.” She stifled a yawn, leaning against a wall to her side. “It's... all too much to do on my own, Red Top.” Sniffling, she rubbed her eyes again and sighed, staring out the window towards the night's sky. “But if I won't count them... then who will? Who is left besides me? Who... is left... b-besides me?”

Silence.

With a muffled groan, the mare hung her C.C.B. badge over the edge of a bedpost and shuffled out of the room. Locking the door behind her, she trotted down the stairs towards where a gentle blue glow softly illuminated the living room of the apartment's bottom story. There, she saw a mint green unicorn lying back on the couch, her head titling on the verge of sleep. In front of Lyra, the television flashed between various live broadcasts of the Equestrian News. T.V. anchors were frantically busy covering such sights as the latest Capreoline incursions... and even Princess Twilight's royal funeral.

“Hmmmm...” Sweetie Drops leaned in, nuzzling the mare's soft mane, reveling in her honey'd scent. “Can't my best friend find something better to watch?”

“Mmmff...” Lyra's head tilted over, a dumb smile plastered over her sleepy muzzle. “Any show's a good show... so long as you're here to watch it with me.”

Sweetie Drops rolled her eyes, then reached down to caress the unicorn's chin. “You're such a silly pony, Lyra.”

“Phweeee...” Lyra nuzzled the agent's hoof, then slumped over, curling into a fetal position atop the couch cushion. “I'm so glad you're home, Bon Bon.” She yawned... and yawned again. “Just so... glad that you're home.”

“I'm so glad to be home, Lyra,” Sweetie Drops said. She leaned in, lips pursing, as she aimed for the pony's cheek. “It's the one thing worth counting... for?” Her blue eyes narrowed on a white envelope sticking between Lyra's flank and the couch. “Uhm... Lyra? What's this?”

“Mmmmmm-I dunno...” Lyra stretched and curled up into a fuzzy green ball. “Found it... mmmfff... on the front door stoop just shortly after...” A yawn. “...just after you got home.”

“After I got home...?” Curious, Sweetie Drops picked up the envelope. She turned it over, looking at the front of the sheet in the blue television light. Her blood froze at the name slathered across it:

“'Bon Bon.'”

Gulping, Sweetie Drops carefully ripped the envelope open. She pulled out a sheet of white paper. The mare unfolded it, read its contents, and gasped loudly.

“Mmmmf?” Lyra shot up, blinking blearily. “Bon Bon? What... what's the matter?”

Sweetie Drops hobbled backwards, dropping the sheet altogether. The note fluttered to the ground, ending right-side up. Across its otherwise blank sheet was the ink-black stencil of a maple leaf, beneath which were the bleakly written words: “we know.”

Sweetie Drops gnashed her teeth. Something moved in the corner of her vision. She swiveled her head over to look.

Something jerked out from beyond the front window. In a sliver of moonlight, Sweetie Drops could make out the unmistakable prongs of a big brown antler.

“Grrrrrrrrrrrr!” Sweetie Drops charged the front door.

Behind her, Lyra stumbled to her hooves. “What is it, Bon Bon?! Bon Bon, talk to me!”

Thwap! Sweetie Drops hammered her hoof over a lever connected to an umbrella stand. A minigun popped out, flying into her upperhooves. Dragging a full ribbon of ammunition, she kicked down the front door, darted out into the Ponyville street, and spun around.

SCREEEECH!

"...?" She jerked one hundred and eighty-degrees, just in time to see a wagon tearing off, pulled by large brown hooves. “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaugh!” She begun rotating the minigun barrel.

RAT-A-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!!!!!!

Hot ammunition shells flew as her gun muzzle lit up the Equestrian night. Bulletholes ripped open the dirt road immediately behind the runaway wagon wheels. But the vehicle turned the corner, knocking over a streetlamp in the process. Once the mayhem was over with, Sweetie Drops stood still, panting, her minigun smoking hellishly beneath her.

“You stay away from her, you hear me?!” Sweetie Drops spat, her eyes bulging. “You stay away from my BEST FRIEND!” She let loose another round of bullets for emphasis. RAT-A-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!!! “Raaaugh!”

Lights flickered on in various windows across the entire block. Dogs barked in the distance while wagon alarms went off.

Lyra came galloping out in a bathrobe. She slumped by Sweetie Drops' side, panting. “Sweetie Drops! What... what in...” She gulped, staring off down the road and shivering. “What in the heck was that?”

“An invitation,” Sweetie Drops snarled, then spat on the barrel of her minigun. The saliva instantly evaporated with a hiss. “Pack your bags, Lyra.”

“What... wh-what for?”

“Time to end this.” Sweetie Drops marched back into the apartment. “We're headed to Manesota.”

Comments

[Ri2]

They tried to kill Lyra?! That's the last straw!

[MustacheMerlin]

Here a moose there a moose everywhere a moose moose!

Old McDonald had a farm, ei ei oh.
And on that farm he had a moose, ei ei oh.
Here a moose there a moose everywhere a moose moose!
Old McDonald had a farm ei ei... oh.
s2.quickmeme.com/img/bd/bd2c16e434bf2e4aeaed4d653f1cfd3380607ef6f8fc8c896b429391a34de1c8.jpg

[zaponator]

Very, very close friends, those two.