Chapter 51: Rose la Belle Rose
Chapter 51
Rose la Belle Rose
After what felt like climbing fifty flights of stairs, Max and Miss Argente arrived on the floor to reach Mr. Cray’s office.
The experience in the bilge had been harrowing for them both. But, neither were too pleased with the prospect of returning to the raging crustacean’s quarters.
As they returned, Max noticed that they were taking a different route back to Mr. Cray’s office. One that bypassed going directly to the front door. Max guessed that it was done to avoid having to be let in by talking to Mr. Cray over the intercom.
They entered a room that had a gigantic tank of water within it. Over the tank, there was a catwalk that went along the top. As they passed by it, Max looked in to see what could possibly live in a tank so large.
He had to stand on his toes to see inside the tank. Large stalks of mossy seaweed rose from the sandy bottom, and giant boulders dotted the simulated landscape.
Among them all, Max spotted a very unusual looking rock. One that was pale, and oddly thin and conical, with a spiral groove around it. As the young goof watched it, he saw it begin to wobble. In a moment, a tentacle snaked out from beneath it. And it was followed by more.
Max watched in terror as a monster he scarcely dared to imagine revealed itself from within the shell. Until it was chomped by a set of jaws that sprang from the screen of seaweed.
With a shuddering gasp, Max retreated back to Miss Argente’s side.
For a moment, Miss Argente regretted taking Max through the back way to Mr. Cray’s office. For wanting to spare him the trauma of interacting with her vicious employer again, she had instead presented him with the gruesome sight of Mr. Cray’s pets.
Putting a hoof around Max, and gently guided him to the door. Hopefully, she would be able to enter Mr. Cray’s office without his notice and quietly place Max by her desk, before presenting her findings.
“WHAT!!?” came Mr. Cray’s voice from the other side of the door.
Both Max and Miss Argente stopped before they entered. So much for the quiet approach.
“GOOFS!!? ON MY SHIP!!? HOW DID YOU HALF-BRAINED HANDBAGS LET THAT HAPPEN!!?”
There was a loud crash, as if something large had been thrown across the room.
Silently, Max and Miss Argente agreed to wait until the storm blew itself out.
“Whoah! Whoah! Take it easy! It’s not like we invited them on board!” said the unmistakable nasally voice of a weasel.
“Yeah! We thought they’d o’ been wasted back in Trottingham!” said another weasel.
“AND INSTEAD, THEY FOLLOWED YOU A HUNDRED THOUSAND MILES TO HERE!! HOW!!? IS SOMEONE TIPPING THEM OFF!? DID ONE OF YOU NITWITS LEAVE A TRAIL FOR THEM TO FOLLOW!!?!”
Another crash sounded loudly against the door. After the crash, a weasel’s voice spoke, sounding as if it were right on the other side.
“H-Hey! Come on, Cray! We already got an escape plan! Just give us a hand, an’ we’ll be on the next continent by the end o’ the week!” said the weasel.
“THAT’S MR. CRAY, BOZO!! AND YOU’D BETTER START WORKING THAT ESCAPE PLAN NOW!! OR THE ONLY THING YOU’LL GET FROM ME IS A CLAW WHERE THE SUN DON’T SHINE!!” Mr. Cray raged.
“Ah-ah-ah-Understood! Where do ya keep the rowboats around here?” asked the weasel.
“A rowboat? That’s your big idea? Ha! Go up top. You’ll find what you need to make your getaway there,” Mr. Cray said.
“They’re leaving?” Max thought, somewhat relieved to be rid of the weasels.
For a moment, there was silence on the other side of the door. And Miss Argente gently pulled Max to the side.
“WHAT ARE YOU STILL DOING HERE!!? GET OUT OF HERE!! BEFORE I FLAY YOU ALL INTO FUR COATS!!” Mr. Cray shouted.
What happened next sounded like a series of blows landing, and more furniture flying. Finally, the door burst open, and five weasels rolled through it in a crumpled heap.
Cheet rolled from the top of the pile and fixed his clothes.
“Let’s get up top. Before that rotten gumbo guillotines us,” he said to the others.
The other four all got up as well, and walked after Cheet.
“By the way: the goofs ain’t dead, so you owe me a diamond ring,” Sneek said.
“Hocked it,” Theef answered.
“Then, gimme the money you got for it.”
“Spent it.”
“Then, gimme what you bought.”
“Fenced it.”
“Then, gimme what you fenced it for.”
“Wearin’ it,” Theef said, as he presented the silk underwear he was wearing.
“Ugh! Keep it,” Sneek replied.
With one last chuckle, the weasels disappeared out the door on the opposite end of the room.
Once again, Miss Argente felt at once relieved and distressed. She tightened her gentle hold on Max, fearing what would happen if she waited for Mr. Cray’s temper to simmer down, or if she entered then.
“What are you doing out here?” Mr. Cray’s rough voice demanded to know.
Max and Miss Argente were both startled back to reality, and found themselves faced with the raging crustacean.
“Both of you, get in!” he ordered, pointing to the door.
Not wanting to disobey an order from the volatile shellfish, they both quickly scampered inside.
The room had been thoroughly trashed during the scuffle. Barely any of the furniture was left standing, and papers covered nearly the entire carpet.
“You!” Mr. Cray said, pointing to Max. “Go wait at Miss Argente’s desk!” He turned his attention to his secretary. “You! What’s the word from the bilge?”
With a shaking hoof, Miss Argente pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose and divulged the details of Freeboot’s report.
At Miss Argente’s overturned desk, Max began picking up all of the fallen papers, warily keeping his eyes on Mr. Cray. Something was happening. He had heard the word ‘goof’ spoken. And in his mind, there was only one person in the world who defined ‘goof’ so appropriately. So accurately. He knew his father had come for him.
“Pinkie?” Goofy quietly called, as he walked through the dark lounge.
To conduct their search more efficiently, Dash and Goofy had split up and decided to work on opposite ends of the room. At the moment, Goofy was searching the left side of the lounge.
Aside from the stage, the only light in the room was the tiny phosphorescent fungi that was set in a glass casing at every table. And the creatures were all but indistinguishable in the dim light. Occasionally, Goofy noticed the telltale horns atop their heads. However, he spent most of his time investigating almost every creature in the room.
“Pinkie?” he asked one creature at a table.
“Pinkie? Qui est Pinkie?” asked the patron.
“Whoop. Sorry,” Goofy apologized.
He tried the next table.
“Pinkie?”
“Allez-vous en. J'essaie de regarder le spectacle,” said the creature, who waved a cloven hoof at Goofy.
“Uh, pardon me,” Goofy said.
He had searched what he felt was every table present, and there had been no sign of his pink friend. For all he could tell, she had simply disappeared into the darkness.
But, a thought occurred to the goof. He had only searched above the tables, but not beneath them. Dropping to the floor, Goofy started scouring beneath them.
“Pinkie? Yuh down here?” he quietly called.
One cervequin felt her hoof brushed by Goofy’s ear as he passed by. Glancing to the stranger sitting beside her, the cervequin returned the gesture in kind, making the stranger’s eyes go wide.
“Pinkie?” Goofy called again. He didn’t find Pinkie, but did find a breadstick somebody had dropped. Brushing it away, he continued his search to the next table.
Before he even crossed over, he bumped into something in the aisle. At the exact same time, somebody else bumped into it as well.
“Ouch!” both exclaimed.
“Dash?”
“Goofy?”
“Weren’t yuh just way over there?”
“Yeah. But, Pinkie wasn’t anywhere on that side.”
“So much fer findin’ her in ten secunds,” Goofy said, as he slumped onto the thing in the aisle.
“Yeah...I must be losin’ my touch. Horse apples…” Dash sighed, joining the slump.
The previous giddiness they felt had run its course, replacing itself with a permeating feeling of mild regret. How they wished to regain that feeling of happiness once more. That feeling of pure elan that they once had, now lost and never to return.
A glimpse to the stage, and Goofy watched the dancers merrily play out their choreography. He knew he should have enjoyed it more than he was. But, it felt as if the feeling of joy had been sapped from him the moment his giggles had gone.
Suddenly, there came a faint giggling. And the thing Dash and Goofy slumped on started to tremble slightly.
“That you, Goof?” Dash asked.
“Nope. Sounds like sumbuddy’s enjoyin’ the show, though,” Goofy said.
They realized then that the source of the giggles were closer than they knew. Looking down, they saw that they were both slumped on something pink and pony-shaped.
“Pinkie!” Dash said.
She and Goofy both stood their pink friend up to her hooves.
“Gawrsh, Pinkie. We been lookin’ all over for yuh? Still feelin’ a bit goofy?” Goofy wondered.
The answer he got was a slightly louder giggle. And in the light of the phosphorescent fungus at the nearest table, the dazed, smiling face of a pink cervequin was revealed.
“Uh, that ain’t Pinkie,” Goofy said, as he and Dash slowly backed away from the giggling cervequin.
The pink cervequin started dancing, flashing the many shades of her coat, giggling all the while. After a few steps, she tripped and fell back to the floor, just as the number onstage ended, and all of the dancers departed.
Dash and Goofy realized then how vital finding Pinkie was. If she got any goofier, she may well have become a giggling simp the next time they saw her. And a goof who was only goofy with no other attributes or emotions would hardly be any more than a hindrance.
The stage at the front darkened, and the distinct outline of a weasel walked onstage.
“Mesdames et Messieurs,” the emcee began, “Le Double Down Theatre est fier de présenter le plus récent artiste de notre troupe.”
It was as if Dash and Goofy had become transfixed on the stage. For reasons they couldn’t understand, their eyes were stuck on the stage, as music started softly playing beneath the emcee’s voice.
“Fait de pure joie, elle est venue mettre un sourire sur tous vos visages,” the emcee continued.
On the stage behind him, another silhouette appeared, rhythmically bobbing its hips in tune with the music.
At the emcee’s words, many of the patrons stopped what they were doing, and watched with undivided attention.
Dash and Goofy were bumped aside when one of the cervequins walked between them. And he was followed by more.
“What the hay’s going on?” Dash wondered.
“Dunno. But, thuh emcee must o’ said sum’n pretty nice tuh get all these deer-ponies movin’,” Goofy noted.
“Pour votre bonheur éternel, je vous présente: Rose la Belle Rose,” the emcee finished, as his silhouette glided offstage.
The remaining silhouette was illuminated by a single spotlight, and the dancer turned around. In the light of the stage, her pink coat flashed its many colors, catching the eye of every creature in the audience as she danced and sang.
“Tu n'es pas prince,
Tu n'ês pas pauvre,
Tu êtes le plus bas des vies.”
“Ton coeur est un cupcake rassis,
Ton visage est comme pâte crue,
Ton baisers sont des bonbon aigre,”
Dash’s jaw dropped the moment she saw the performer. Her costume and mane had changed, but there was no mistaking that distinct voice and manner.
“Pinkie!!” Dash shouted. “What in Tartarus is she doing?!”
“Gawrsh. She dresses like that fer Cream Filling, she’s gunna be queen o’ Trottingham fer sure,” Goofy added.
Dash moved first, running for the stage. Her first step wasn’t even finished when Goofy followed suit to rescue their friend.
Up in his office, Mr. Cray paced impatiently.
“What’s taking those big-nosed buffoons so long? They should be done setting up already!” he grumbled.
Miss Argente readied to run for cover, as Mr. Cray was sure to blow his top any moment. Even after hearing the positive report from the bilge, her employer’s temper would be no less volcanic.
Rather than vent his frustration on his secretary, Mr. Cray drifted over to the window that overlooked the theater lounge. And what he saw there perplexed him.
Many of the seats were now empty, and his temperature steadily rose. Before he started cooking in his own shell, he saw that the audience had not left, but was gathered right at the front of the stage.
There was a dancer he didn’t recognize. She wasn’t one of his usual girls. She was a new face who had boarded his ship, and was quite clearly hooked on his product. Best of all, she had a tantalizing effect on the audience like no other performer before her.
Everything she did, the audience all started laughing. Whenever she bounced, some of the audience members bounced with her.
Everything that pony was, it was precisely what Mr. Cray needed to keep his clientele in a joyful stupor. He was going to have her. And he was going to keep her for the rest of her days.
Fortune favored few in the world, and even fewer when the time was precisely right. For Mr. Cray, that divine meeting of fates graced him as the weasels walked back through the door.
“Sorry to bother ya, but these mooks got no clue how to put your doohickey on the roof together,” Cheet said.
“Us? You’re the guy who tried usin’ a lighter to check the fuel tank for flammable material,” Theef said.
“Aw, shaddup!”
“All of you: shut your pork troughs and get over here!” Mr. Cray said, without turning around.
Not wanting to rouse his temper again, the five weasels hurried over to the window.
“I don’t believe it! That goof’s drawin’ the whole crowd!” Cheepskate said.
There was that word again. ‘Goof.’ And the moment he heard it, Max rushed to the window. Shortly after, Miss Argente followed him.
When he reached the window, Max started scanning the stage for any sign of the goof the weasels were talking about. Instead of his father, he was dismayed to see a single pink pony.
“Hrm...She’s one of those goofs, eh?” Mr. Cray said, half to himself.
Max, Miss Argente, and all of the weasels grew uneasy at the sight of Mr. Cray’s malicious grin.
In the crustaceans mind, a plan was forming. He was going to keep Pinkie for himself and eliminate her friends at the same time.
“Before you go,” Mr. Cray began, speaking slowly through his smile and pointing to Pinkie, “I want you to bring that goof to me. And her two friends.”
“Riiiight. We gotcha,” Creep said, brandishing a switchblade from his pocket.
Before he could blink, Mr. Cray’s claw sliced the blade from its handle.
“You’re not going to move a hair on their heads!” Mr. Cray said, suddenly losing his calm. He reached both claws out, grabbed each weasels’ neck in his grip, and pressed their faces into the glass. “That goof is mine! And her friends are going to be here--alive--when I take her from them! Understand?”
“You got it,” Sneek said, his lips smearing the glass with every word.
“Can we waste ‘em after ya take the pink one?” Theef added.
“I’ll worry about that! You fur-bearing freeloaders just worry about getting them up here! By any means necessary!”
With two powerful heaves, the five weasels were thrown to the door.
“AND DON’T COME BACK, UNTIL YOU’VE GOT THEM ALL!!!” Mr. Cray shouted one last order, sending the weasels tripping over one another as they ran down the hall.
Dismayed by not seeing his father through the window, his faith in him was still not shaken. He had distinctly heard that there were more goofs than the one dancing onstage. And he knew precisely who one of them was.
“You just made a big mistake, Cray,” Max gloated. “You’re bringing my dad right to you. And he’s going to take me and Miss Argente out of here!”
“Max! Please!” Miss Argente said, quickly hushing her young charge.
“You!” Mr. Cray said, thrusting an open claw mere centimeters from Max’s face, “You...Are about to grow up. Very, very fast.”
Max froze, keeping his eyes on Mr. Cray’s claw. But, he didn’t perceive the movement when the front of his shirt was clasped in the crustacean’s grip, and was lifted to his eye level.
“And it’s Mr. Cray!” he malevolently hissed, before shoving Max into Miss Argente’s hooves.
Without even looking to Mr. Cray, Miss Argente placed Max on the floor and hurried him back over to her desk. When they arrived, she placed Max into one of the seats that she had placed by her desk after Mr. Cray’s previous outburst.
“Max, it is more important now zat you listen to me. Do not provoke Monsieur Cray further. If you truly want to see your father again, you must promise to sit here and not do anything to infuriate him,” she said.
Max didn’t answer.
“Max. I need you to promise zis. Ze same as you would promise your own mother and father. Can you do zat for me? For your father?”
That did it. The thought of being reunited with his father made Max start to nod.
“Okay. I promise,” he said.
“Good. Now, just wait quietly. And please do as I say zis time.”
As much as he wished to confront Mr. Cray, Max wished more to see his father. Gripping the seat of his chair, he waited tensely for the moment he would be liberated from the Double Down.
“Je ne sais pas pourquoi,
Je t'aime tellement,
Mon chéri aigre,”
“J'ai eu un meilleur amour,
Avec un éclair d'un an,
Et une miette de beignet,
Sèche mes larmes mieux que toi,”
Pinkie continued her song and dance, barely aware of anything but the joy she felt. A joy that permeated every corner of her mind, blinding her to even her friends who were pushing their way through the crowd toward her.
“Hold on there, Pinkie! We’re comin’ for yuh!” Goofy called. “Jus--Wha-oh-oh!!”
Goofy felt himself pushed back, and fell to the floor.
“Partir, gaffe! Elle est mon rêve rose!” a voice in the crowd said.
With a sudden heave, Dash was thrown on top of Goofy.
“Et prenez votre amie stupide!" another voice said.
Dash shook her head lucid and stood up atop Goofy’s chest.
“Can you believe it!? It’s like these goofy weirdos are trying to stop us!” Dash said.
“Yeah! It ain’t that we’re tryin’ tuh ruin their fun! We just gotta save our pal. Same as they would!” Goofy added.
The music picked up, and Pinkie’s dance became more energetic.
From where he was lying, Goofy could only see when Dash stopped moving and looked fixedly ahead.
“Dash?” Goofy asked.
She couldn’t hear him over the music, so the goof decided to tap her side.
Dash answered by stepping down to the floor and nudging Goofy with her hoof, signalling him to stand.
Goofy sat up, and saw what she did.
There before them, partly silhouetted against the stage was the form of Theef Lolyfe, toothpick and all.
Theef simply stood there with one hand in his pocket, and the other simply set on his hip.
Dash readily accepted the challenge, threateningly spreading her wings and lowering herself to a fighting stance.
With a snort that wasn’t heard over the music, Theef motioned for Dash to have at him.
A flap of her wings, and Dash shot toward the weasel.
Theef slipped out of the way and drew a cosh from his pocket, which he swung at Dash’s head.
Dash dodged and swung back.
Theef backpedaled and disappeared into the crowd of cervequins.
Dash staggered as she was struck from behind by Cheepskate, who emerged from the crowd.
She whirled around to attack, only to be struck from the side by Sneek.
Both weasels disappeared, and Dash struck blindly again.
She recoiled her hooves and saw Goofy stumbling back from where she tried to strike.
As they faced one another, they saw more weasels slowly emerging from the crowd.
Goofy drew his fishing rod and stood back to back with Dash, just as the five weasels revealed themselves.
Dash’s wings shook in anticipation.
Goofy raised his fishing pole to strike.
Creep and Cheepskate both lunged at Goofy.
The goof parried with his fishing pole and shoved them back into the crowd of cervequins.
Sneek jabbed low at Dash, who easily jumped over him and stuck Cheet on the nose.
Goofy toppled back from a blow from Cheepskate, and unintentionally parried an attack from Sneek.
“Pourquoi est-ce que je gaspille
Mon temps avec toi,
Mon chéri aigre,”
“Tu êtes un morceau de farine,
Je suis un gâteau givré,
Tu êtes juste une tête de méchant,
Je suis reine des bonbons”
Pinkie flashed her eyelashes to the crowd, and received a wild round of shouts and whistles.
The audience started bouncing up and down, emulating how Pinkie started doing so.
The energy of the audience reached the seven fighters on the floor, who all fought more vigorously.
Dash pinned Creep’s club to the floor with a hoof.
Theef attacked from the other side.
Dash spun on her one hoof, pinned Theef’s club and kicked both weasels with her rear legs.
She slipped beneath a bouncing cervequin, then beneath another when Creep tried to strike her again.
Goofy backpedaled toward her, fencing with his fishing pole against Sneek and Cheepskate, who had both drawn truncheons to do battle with the goof.
He was pushed back to the nearest table, and forced to stand atop a chair.
Cheepskate clubbed the chair.
Goofy hopped up to the table.
Cheet popped up from beneath the table and yanked the tablecloth from under Goofy’s feet.
Goofy fell onto his face, and his nose was slugged with a right hook from Sneek.
He spun around on the table, until he faced Cheet and was socked to keep spinning in the same direction. And again when he was faced by Cheepskate.
By the time he circled back around to Sneek, Goofy slapped his fishing rod against Sneek’s face and let the line tangle around his neck.
With a swing, he threw the entangled weasel into Cheet, then into Cheepskate, before releasing Sneek.
Sneek bowled over Theef, who was about to club Dash while Creep restrained her.
Dash then slipped from Creep’s grasp and tripped him, before trying to make her escape.
She tried vaulting over a bouncing cervequin. The moment she was on their back, Cheet jumped onto the back of the neighboring creature, and swung his fist when he and Dash were level with one another.
Dash dodged and returned a blow when they were both level again.
Cheet swung low, forcing Dash to jump.
While she was in the air, Cheepskate shoved the cervequin beneath Dash out of the way, replacing it with a tablecloth he and Creep held between them.
Dash landed on the tablecloth, was immediately cinched up and swung at Goofy.
Goofy parried with his fishing pole and used the hook to pull the tablecloth from the two weasels’ grip and release Dash, who swooped out and knocked over both opponents with her outstretched wings.
Theef was waiting for her and overturned a table.
Dash crashed face first into it, and was smashed from behind by another table pushed by Cheet.
Trapped between the two, Dash started pushing against them.
She saw Goofy cast his line toward her, and clenched the gossamer thread in her teeth.
With a yank, she was pulled from danger, letting the weasels crash into one another.
Goofy recoiled, and Dash swung behind his head.
Dash lashed out her hooves, kicking Sneek as he tried to blindside Goofy.
“Oh, ma chérie aigre,
Je ne comprends pas pourquoi,
Je t'aime tellement,”
“Tu êtes des miettes,
Tu êtes des biscuits brûlés,
Pas un peu de toi,
Est digne de mon amour,”
After the last verse, Pinkie began giggling onstage and her dance grew more frenzied.
After her, the audience followed suit.
What was once a crowd of transfixed cervequins had become a tumultuous moshpit.
Every member of the audience was bounding and crashing into each other. Those who weren’t knocked over simply dropped into a giggling stupor.
Goofy stumbled over a fallen cervequin, and was bumped back to standing by another that smashed into him. And the process kept repeating itself.
Dash fared no better, getting bounced up to the air and down to the floor, feeling more like a bruised piece of fruit with each go.
The weasels too felt the effects of the rollicking crowd, and found themselves quickly smashed underhoof or pushed about.
Sneek was bounced like a pinball from one cervequin to the next. Finally, he crashed into a table, where his nose caught in a flower vase.
After pulling the vase from his nose, he noticed something that had been left there as well. A full glass of Bichu bisou. One goof had been hooked. It was time to hook the others.
Taking the glass, he carefully made his way back into the busy crowd, keeping low with his palm over the top of the drink.
Goofy was shoved backwards and tumbled over Dash’s back. Upon landing Dash was shoved over Goofy’s back next.
On the other side of the goof, Dash was punted back over by one of the weasels, followed by Goofy being punched over her.
When Goofy landed, his nose was grabbed by Sneek, and was lifted so his mouth opened.
“Bottoms up, goof!” Sneek was heard saying just beneath the music.
And the drink was thrown down Goofy’s throat.
The goof sputtered and spat, scrambling to his feet, before he stumbled into another weasel.
The other weasels appeared to have gotten the idea of what their cohort was up to, and went hunting for the nearest Bichu bisou they could find.
Cheepskate and Creep stayed behind to keep the goofs occupied.
Between the two of them, the Klepto brothers grabbed and stretched out one of the giggling cervequins and charged their opponents.
Dash and Goofy both jumped over the attack.
Reaching over, Dash grabbed Goofy’s fishing pole and flapped her wings.
Goofy spun from the force and swung Dash at the two weasels.
One after the other, Creep and Cheepskate jumped over the attacks, as cervequins toppled onto the goofs.
Pinned under the pile of cervequins, Goofy’s knees made an easy target to club.
Cheepskate and Creep swung one after the other.
With each swing, Goofy moved his knees out of the way.
With one last attack, Goofy retracted his legs beneath the pile, letting Cheepskate club his brother’s toes instead.
Before Creep could retaliate, Dash grabbed both of their heads and knocked them together.
Creep raised his weapon to strike Dash, and had it slip from his grasp by Goofy casting his hook.
Goofy swung again and again, hitting both weasels with the hooked club until they were both pushed into the bouncing crowd, and subsequently trampled.
After disposing the two, Dash and Goofy both loosed a victorious laugh. Only, Goofy didn’t stop laughing.
Any feeling of relief or accomplishment the pegasus felt in that moment suddenly dashed.
“Goofy?” she asked, barely audible over the music.
Goofy kept giggling.
“Goof--!”
Her shout was cut off by a glass being thrown into her open mouth.
With a sickened swallow, Dash recognized the flavor of the drink that was forced into her mouth. Try as she did to get any of it out of her mouth, she was terrified as she felt some of it trickling down her throat.
Theef rounded behind Goofy and poked the seat of the goof’s pants with his toothpick.
Goofy shouted and spread his arms wide, knocking a drink from Sneek’s hands. However, Cheepskate poured a drink into Goofy’s open mouth.
Before Sneek’s drink spilled, Cheet caught the glass’s contents in his outstretched hat.
He tossed the drink he held into his hat, then stuffed it over Rainbow Dash’s face.
Dash was again forced to swallow. Only this time, she didn’t feel such a strong urge to resist. The corner of her mouth cracked, and she soon joined Goofy in his fit of giggles.
“Mais, une fille comme moi,
Ne peut pas vraiment être si doux,
Pour être si amoureux de toi,
Mon chéri aigre,”
As Pinkie finished her song, she too started laughing. Soon, she collapsed onstage, laughing madly at who knew what.
The weasels all smiled deviously. They had completed part one of their plan. Now, to deliver the goofs.
High above, cast only as a shadow against the lights of the room, Mr. Cray watched the scene unfold. Unheard by the others, his own malicious laughter joined in with the mindless giggling of the goofs.
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Oh, I hope our heroes can kick that selfish Shellfish's shell!
9731716
Say that five times quickly.
9731949
selfish Shellfish's shell
selfish Shellfish's shell
selfish Shellfish's shell
selfish Shellfish's shell
selfish Shellfish's shell
I win! What's my prize?
9732253
It was a gentleman's bet. So, go get yourself a gentleman.
Out of curiosity, will there be a Twilight-centric chapter coming up?
9775029
There most indeed will be. But, you're going to have to wait for it.
Remind me what cerviquins look like again?
9778231
Taller and slimmer than ponies. Cloven hooves. Lion-like tail. And they all have a horn that has no spiral groove that branches like a tree, with one to seven protrusions.