The Drama Dams Burst
Vinyl’s stomach churned in a preliminary protest at the sight of the cherry pies. Not that she didn’t like cherry pie, she was just not looking forward to the effects of tossing that mass of fruit and dough on top of the already unholy mix of partially digested hors d’oeuvres, champagne, cocktails, and peanut butter.
“Alright, contestants: the object is to eat as many pies as possible within the time limit,” the referee called out. “Any regurgitation during the proceedings will result in immediate disqualification. Is that clear?”
Vinyl patted her belly and concentrated, her Canterlot reflexes kicking in again. She’d only get disqualified if she threw up during the eating. If she did it afterwards, she’d be fine. Perfect plan.
“Completely clear,” Scootaloo said to the judge, giving a curt salute. “We’ve got this, right, Aunt Vinyl?”
Vinyl suppressed a whimper. “Right. We’ve got this. Piece of cake.”
Lots of pieces of cake, in fact. Vinyl was out of her element for the eating contest. She didn’t know the tricks for this, no way to get the edge she needed. Still: Canterlot unicorn, high pedigree, Canterlot unicorn, high pedigree. As long as she could repeat those four words in her mind, she could keep going.
“Go!”
There are times in life when the individual feels their consciousness become part of something greater; when a whole group has the exact same thought at the same time. An enemy unites a village, a band of heroes emerges to fight together without any former connection between them, a group of researchers simultaneously hit the same epiphany that has eluded their predecessors for centuries. It was a rare experience, oft described in epic poems but elusive to replicate in reality. Such an experience fell over the crowds at Sweet Apple Acres, though for decidedly less epic reasons than usual.
The thought that went through the crowd, all at once, was this:
You know, now that they’re both stuffing their snouts into pie in exactly the same way at exactly the same rhythm, you can really see the family resemblance between Scootaloo and Vinyl.
Vinyl nommed and glumped and gulped all she could before moving on to the next plate, Scootaloo lagging not too far behind. Time lost its meaning as she focused all her energy, all her attention on the task at hoof. Her stomach filled, almost to bursting. She could scarcely remember how many pies she’d gone through.
“And stop!”
After an eternity, Vinyl and Scootaloo both sat up straight, again in perfect synch. Vinyl gagged, but her lips remained sealed, and her belly wasn’t too swollen, at least. Neither was Scootaloo’s. Good, that meant they wouldn’t risk being too drowsy for the next events. And judging from the amount of empty plates on their table, they had a pretty good score. All the other contestants only had a small pile compared to theirs. The only ones who came close were Thunderlane and Applejack’s table, from the looks of it, but they’d need an exact count to be sure.
Twilight and Spike were at the bottom of the ranking, though, judging from the plate count. There were only five empty plates on Twilight’s table. Easy pickings, Vinyl thought. Clearly Twilight didn’t have the fortitude to gorge herself after a late night, not like Vinyl did.
Then Spike let out a long burp, during which twenty more plates came flying out of his mouth.
Vinyl winced. “Right. Dragon. Shoulda seen that coming.”
“How is that fair?” Scootaloo asked.
“We’ve got other ways to beat him, kiddo. Don’t worry.”
“But he-”
“Let it go, Scootaloo, there’s no point in arguing.”
“But Aunt Vinyl-”
“I said stop," Vinyl hissed under her breath. “Give it a rest, Scootaloo. You know better than to be a sore loser.”
Spike got the ribbon. Vinyl gagged, but she held it in, still. The Apples were hosting some card game contests today, too, and they needed the space for the next few events, so Vinyl had some time to rest up now. Granted, so did Twilight, but that wouldn’t be an issue, as Vinyl hadn’t been wearing herself out with electric shocks.
As stuffed as she was, she could hold her food down.
“Okay, everypony!” One of the referees called out. “While the contestants of the card games are wrapping up and we’re setting up the next couple of events, who wants to see an air show?”
Rainbow Dash needed no further cue and immediately went to work, soaring close enough to the herd of ponies to mess up some manes.
Then she ducked, weaved and twirled through the clouds, doing a routine that was surely worthy of a Wonderbolt. Everyone was impressed. Scootaloo was awed.
Vinyl was queasy. The motions drew her eyes, and her stomach had apparently taken the opportunity to study bodily law, elect an official, set up a formal petition that the rest of her body couldn’t ignore, and finally gotten permission from her brain to throw up. She had to make her escape.
“Be right back, Scoots.”
She ran off.
Vinyl let it all out in one of the bins that had, thankfully, been placed within reach but behind a conveniently placed barn for just such an occasion. Though dizzy, she felt a lot better once her stomach had cleared. Now all she needed was something to get the aftertaste out of her mouth, and she was good to go.
“Feel better?”
Vinyl’s ears flicked back, then the rest of her turned to confront the source of the voice which, she was thankful to realise, was not a hallucination due to lack of sleep. Rarity had followed her. “Yeah, thanks. Guess I didn’t know what I was getting into today.”
The look on Rarity’s face said it all. Concern, mixed with a healthy dose of judgement. Though not Canterlot-born, Rarity had the look down pat. “Mhmm. Are you feeling quite alright, darling?”
Vinyl wiped her mouth and nodded. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Right at that moment, Rainbow Dash let out a thunderclap from a cloud to mark some sort of climax in her performance.
Rarity looked back, but merely rolled her eyes at the trick. “Well, you were wobbly this morning, and I seem to recall you having a concert in Canterlot recently. Wasn’t that yesterday?”
Vinyl shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Do you mind?” Rarity reached for Vinyl’s glasses.
Vinyl tensed, but she didn’t move. Rarity was going to get a look, either way. Vinyl hadn’t looked at herself in a mirror since this morning, but judging from Rarity’s flinch, not much had changed regarding the bags in the DJ’s eyes and the red bleariness.
“Oh, darling,” Rarity said with a barely suppressed gasp. “What are you doing to yourself?”
“I’m not dying, Rarity.” Vinyl snatched the glasses back and put them on. “I’m just doing a contest with my niece. Is that allowed?”
“Certainly. But don’t you think you should take it easy?”
“I can’t,” Vinyl replied. “Scootaloo wants to win. I made a promise.”
“But you’re going to hurt yourself,” Rarity said. “I don’t think Scootaloo would want that.”
“It’s complicated.”
Rarity sat down. Somehow she managed to make even that look dramatic. “Then uncomplicate it for me, darling, because I have half a mind to get Nurse Redheart over here to disqualify you this instant.”
Vinyl gritted her teeth. “It’s none of your business, Rarity. No offence.”
“None taken.” Rarity thought for a second, then smiled in that all too familiar conniving Canterlot unicorn way. The acquired version of it was as unnerving as the genetic one. “But it is my business to some extent, actually. My little sister spends a lot of time with your niece, if you’ll recall. If there are any, shall we say, less appropriate behaviours or lessons being taught to the girl, I wouldn’t want Sweetie Belle to catch any of that. Of course, I don’t think you are uncouth in any way, but better safe than sorry, you understand.”
“Fine,” Vinyl said with a heavy sigh. “I don’t want Scootaloo to think no one cares about her, okay? I don’t want to let her down. And I don’t want to let her mom down, either. Our family is… different.”
Back at the contest stage, they heard the swoops of Rainbow’s performance, followed by the woops of the crowd.
“Ah. You’re worried you’re not living up to your family’s standards.”
Vinyl chuckled mirthlessly. “Oh, I don’t need to worry about that; I know I’m not up to their standards.”
Unicorn drama? Now Rarity was sailing in familiar waters. “But you’re a famous musician. You just got back from an international concert.”
“No, I’m not a musician; I am a DJ. A DJ is to a musician what a waiter is to a chef. But yeah, I am famous, and I do big concerts sometimes.” Vinyl snorted. “And meanwhile, my father is casting protection spells that’ll preserve Canterlot’s treasures and its defenses, and my sister is on another one of her business trips hurricane-proofing houses in… I think it was elk country this month, but it might be reindeer season by now. Anyway, while she’s doing that, her husband is on deployment from Cloudsdale, preventing hurricanes from happening in the first place. Twiddling with buttons to make noise come out doesn’t seem quite so glamorous compared to that, does it? And don’t try to tell me you’re in the same boat, Miss Element of Generosity, you know there’s a big difference between being artsy and being important.”
Rarity fell silent. “Right. I’m sorry, darling, I didn’t mean to pry.”
Vinyl shook her head and rubbed behind the ears to try and numb the throbbing sensation that just had to pop up right then and there. “Don’t be. I’m sorry, I didn’t get much sleep.”
“I gathered as much, darling.” Rarity patted her on the back. “No need to apologise. We are colleagues, after all. Friends, one might even say, if you weren’t so mysterious about your affairs.”
“Thanks, I think.”
“If you’re having trouble with anything, you do know you can come by and talk, right? I mean, we’ve worked together often enough, I have Sweetie Belle to worry about, you have your Scootaloo...”
“Yeah… my Scootaloo. Funny you should mention that.” The DJ chuckled. “It’s my fault, you know. The only reason Scootaloo is even with me is because Octavia is around. If you really want the whole truth, it’s that I’m… I’m the black sheep in my family. Kind of weird, too, ‘coz I’m the only one who was born snow white.”
This did not compute. “So… you want Scootaloo to have the prize, because you feel you must get it for her? Because you think you’re somehow incompetent otherwise?”
Vinyl nodded. “Something like that, yeah. That’s about right.”
“But the prize is a day with Rainbow Dash,” Rarity argued.
Right on cue, the crowd roared again. Rainbow Dash was in good form today, apparently.
“I know. Scootaloo’s got her heart set on it.”
Rarity bit her lip, carefully weighing her words. “But you realise Scootaloo thinks of Rainbow Dash as a prospective sister figure, yes? She idolises Rainbow. One day isn’t going to be enough.”
“No, but it’s a start.”
Now Rarity was getting into ‘shocked’ territory. This was always a risk, as it tended to drive up her spa bills. “And you don’t care that she’d rather be with Rainbow Dash, with a stranger, than with, oh, I don’t know, you?”
Silence fell.
“It’s for the best,” Vinyl said, eventually. “She’d be better off with Rainbow looking out for her.”
“Oh, darling, now you’re just being silly. This is family you are talking about. You mustn’t rule yourself out like that. No one thinks any less of you because of your profession. If anything, you have more admirers than Rainbow Dash does.”
Vinyl shook her head. “How would you know? You don’t know who my sister is. You don’t even know her name and I’m definitely not tossin’ it around in this town. So, sorry to say it, Rarity, but you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Fair enough, but-”
“But nothing,” Vinyl snapped. “Are you really gonna tell me it's not a big deal? Really? Do you have any idea what it’s like to have a big sister who is everything you ought to be, while you are nothing like her and everyone, everyone, expects you to be her? Do you know what it’s like to move to a whole new town just so you’d get one chance to be treated as your own pony, only to have your big sister’s accomplishments thrown in your face every single time you so much as breathe a word about what you’re doing with your life?”
Rarity gulped. “No, admittedly, that I do not. But, in my defense, I do have some idea of what it is like to be the elder sister in that situation. And while I can’t speak for your sister, I know I would never forgive myself if I let Sweetie Belle do what you are doing out of some completely misguided inferiority complex.”
Vinyl shook her head. “You don’t understand. My sister, she...”
“She does more important work than you do? Well then, why isn’t she taking care of her own daughter? Why, Scootaloo is only a child and-” Rarity stopped herself. “Actually, now that you mention it. How much older was your sister, you say?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“I’d say that it does. You said so yourself: your family is important. But you are a unicorn, and if I recall correctly, so are the rest of your family, with the exception of Scootaloo’s mother and, of course, Scootaloo. Plus, you don’t mind Scootaloo being with Rainbow Dash, a fellow pegasus, even with Rainbow Dash being… well, Rainbow Dash. You wish it was the other way around, don’t you? That your sister was a unicorn and you a pegasus?”
Vinyl shrugged. “Would have prevented a lot of problems. Not just for us, for Scootaloo, too. If I’d been born the pegasus of the family… if Scootaloo had been born a unicorn, she wouldn’t be having these issues, either.”
“Issues being the wing problem and the shedding.”
Vinyl nodded. “Yeah. Scootaloo’s not like her mom, or her grandpa. She’s more like me, and even then, she’s pretty far off. I never got into athletics like she does. No one in our family is like her. She acts tough, but sometimes she slips, you know? Like it’s starting to dawn on her something is wrong but she can’t tell what. That’s why I want her to get some time with Rainbow Dash, it doesn’t have to be much. If I can show her there are pegasus ponies like her, who like the same things she does, who have the same problems she does, then she won’t have to feel bad. I can’t cut it, and neither can Octavia. Scootaloo needs somepony to talk to about flying, about what the Wonderbolts do, about… about everything. A pegasus pony is not an Earth pony with wings; there’s more to it. And right now, with everything that’s going on, Rainbow Dash is the best pony to ask. Even if Rainbow is a stranger, it’s better than nothing.”
“You could just ask her, then, you know,” Rarity offered. “There’s no need for all of this theatrics.”
“Wouldn’t help. Not for Scootaloo, at least. Wouldn’t help for me, either. If I ask Rainbow Dash to do it, it’d be like taking Scoots to a doctor, to a therapist. It’d be like admitting there’s something wrong with her. I’m not putting her through that again if I can help it. Whatever it is she wants from Rainbow Dash, she wants to earn it. So that is what I am doing today. I am giving her a chance to compete, to show her stuff, to win. And nothing is going to stop me, not even my own dumb mistakes in planning this whole shebang.”
Rarity nodded in defeat. “I understand that’s quite an undertaking you’re on and you feel it’s right-”
“Good. So we understand each other.”
“But Vinyl-”
“Look, Rarity, if you want me to spell it out, fine: my sister had Scootaloo when she was my age, okay? I’m not even seeing any stallions right now, that’s not gonna change anytime soon, and that’s not something my bigshot fancy bloodline family is all too happy about. This is all I’m good for, this is what I’m doing.”
“D’oh, you Canterlot unicorns and your blasted self-deprecation, honestly. A good suitor is hard to find, you mustn’t think less of yourself if you take longer to find one than your sister. In fact, I happen to know quite a few stallions who would love to meet you. Just say the word and you’ll be on the dating circuit in no time.”
Vinyl chuckled. “Thanks for the sentiment, but I don’t think you get what I’m saying. Read my lips: I... am not… mom material. I know that, my family knows that, everypony knows that. My sister’s the one with a kid, she’s the one upholding the family name, and nothing I do is ever gonna change that. The unicorn sister is not gonna be the one to keep up our bloodline. I’m not gonna be a mom.” She caught her breath. “But I can be a good aunt. It’s not much, but it’s what I can do. So I’m gonna be a good aunt to my little niece. I’m gonna make sure she’s happy, that she has ponies she can talk to and rely on, who don’t make a big deal about how she lives her life or tell her she was born wrong. I’m gonna make sure that when she’s old enough to have to worry, she knows that there are ponies outside of our family.” She barely suppressed a hiss. “Waaay outside of our noble and high pedigree family.”
Rarity finally realised what Vinyl was saying.
“Good ponies, friendly ponies,” Vinyl continued. “Who are at least as good for her to be around, and probably better. And if that means dealing with Scootaloo idolising Rainbow Dash and ignoring me, I’ll take it. Now, are you going to stop me?”
“I should like to. But I do not take you for a fool, Vinyl Scratch. You’re a sensible mare, so I trust you know your limits.”
“Thank you.”
Even after clearing her stomach out of both ends following a trip to the bins and bathroom, Vinyl felt faint, probably the lack of sleep catching up to her. Once Big Mac and Granny Smith had rounded up all the ponies who’d overeaten on cherry pies – because no one in the Apple family was dumb enough to have ponies puke after eating apple pies – the events went on.
Vinyl didn’t have the mental acuity to keep track of her scores, and Scootaloo’s growing grudge against Spike didn’t help matters at all. The mare’s eyesight was starting to go after a while, lids twitching and refusing to stay up. She bit through it.
The rope skipping competition, they won with ease, as Twilight’s momentarily lapses post-zapping caused her to miss her timing. Besides that, Spike was a clumsy jumper, while Scootaloo practically lived a few inches off the ground. She reveled in her victory, glaring at Spike as he fumed.
The librarian and her dragon got their revenge, though, in that ancient gauntlet of the mind: the spelling bee. Vinyl had no trouble keeping up with Twilight, but Spike was a well-read dragon and left his opposition in the dust. In the end, Spike managed to spell ‘draconequus’ correctly, Scootaloo could not. In all fairness, Vinyl Scratch wasn’t sure if she’d have gotten that one right herself, as the word kind of sounded made up anyway. Spike blew a raspberry at Scootaloo when he thought Vinyl wasn’t looking. Vinyl had been looking, but she was more concerned at Scootaloo’s returning of the gesture.
The sack race didn’t go so well for them, either, but then most ponies were pretty terrible at that event, what with their quadrupedal tendencies and maladapted hooves. Twilight didn’t get any advantage there from Spike, unless one counted the constant poking and prodding from his backscales as a blessing.
Vinyl’s head swam once that race was done. She saw the other contestants, but the creeping blackness in her vision kept her from seeing whether they arrived before or after her. All she did see was Scootaloo prancing in front of Spike, head held high like a proud peacock. Or rather, a proud Canterlot unicorn.
No matter. She still had the lead from the earlier events, they still had a decent score, even if the difference was dwindling.
“Spike’s still gaining on us,” Scootaloo said once they had some more downtime. “We can’t let him win, Aunt Vinyl.”
As much as she wanted to agree, Vinyl shook her head. “Okay, go talk to him.”
“What?”
“Go to Spike, ask to talk in private, and settle this with him. Now.”
Scootaloo was taken aback by the sudden shift in tone from her aunt. “But-”
The girl’s voice grated on Vinyl’s ears. Everything in the mare’s body felt weak, like she was about to faint. Vinyl needed to rest, get some sugar back. Had she even had lunch yet? Was lunch passed already? She needed to recover. She was pushing herself to her limit.
And Scootaloo could not, under any circumstances, be allowed to see her aunt in that bad a state.
“No buts, kiddo. I’ve seen you two blowing raspberries at each other, glaring like you’re sworn enemies, smirking whenever the other one makes a mistake. This isn’t like you, either of you. I haven’t got a say about Spike, but you’ve been gunning for him since we got here, and he’s been getting under your skin, and I’m not having it.”
“But I thought you wanted us to win,” the filly whined.
Vinyl sat up and growled under her breath. “I do, Scootaloo, I do. But you are getting carried away, and you need to talk to that boy before either one of you does something or says something they’ll regret. I thought he was your friend?”
“He is. Kinda.” Scootaloo shrugged.
“Then you shouldn’t put a ‘kinda friendship’ at risk over a competition. You are not that kind of pony and you are not turning into that kind of pony if I have anything to say about it. When you get old enough to compete, you’re going to have plenty of ponies who are your friends and who are still trying to beat you. If you keep going like this, it's gonna become a bad habit that you can't shake, and you’re going to regret it. So I am telling you right now: go to Spike, ask to talk it out, act like a good sport. If he wants to act like a jerk, fine, but you don’t get to. You settle this, like a good, civil little pony, before it gets out of control. If you need me, I’ll be taking a nap near the cider stand. Okay?”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Sullenly, Scootaloo trotted off.
Vinyl dragged herself to a nearby tree and lay her head down on the grass. She was close enough to the main barn to be able to hear when the obstacle course was ready, she had some time, all she needed was a quick nap. She dozed off without a second thought.
Right at that moment, a certain blue pegasus mare came walking by. One with a rainbow mane and tail, to be exact. “Oh, hey, Vinyl, right? I’ve been thinking, about Scootaloo. Is she your sister or your niece or whatever? Because I’ve seen her around and she kind of hosted my fan club. I mean, every kid would want to be in my fan club, obviously, but-”
A snore interrupted her. And Rainbow Dash was nothing if not respectful for the ancient rules of pony naps.
"Oh. You’re asleep. Good idea. Forget I said anything, it’s probably no big deal.”
Thunderlane found Twilight alone, near an apple fritter stand. “Twilight? Mind if I ask you something?”
Twilight gulped down the last bite of her snack. “Sure. Where’s Rumble?”
He flicked his wings behind him. “Apple Bloom’s been getting a little antsy with him, so I figured I’d let them talk it out.”
“Alone?” She chuckled. “You put a lot of faith in your brother, then.”
“Well, that and… Rumble’s not the sort of boy you want to let things escalate with. He can do some pretty crazy stuff when he puts his mind to it. It’s best to nip it in the bud when ponies get upset with him, that’s what I’ve noticed.” Thunderlane sat down. “Where’s Spike?”
“He said he needed to take care of something. I think he’s off doing the same thing your brother is doing, actually, only with Scootaloo.”
“Good. While they’re both gone and the final event is getting set up, umm, mind explaining to me why you’re pushing yourself like this?”
“I am not pushing myself,” Twilight argued. “I’m fine.”
“Uhuh. You’re so fine you need a spell to shock you every time you fall asleep on your hooves.”
Right on cue, the spell zapped her. “Yow! Okay, point taken. It’s only a little spell to stay awake, it’s nothing serious.”
“You look terrible, Twilight. You should sleep.”
She shook her head. “I can’t. If I go to sleep now, I’m not waking up for at least two hours, and I’ll miss the final event. Even if I don’t miss it, I’ll be too drowsy to win. I can’t take that chance.”
“Why? Why go through all that trouble? I heard Spike tell you it’s okay.”
“But it’s not, Thunderlane. Not by a long shot. Spike… Spike’s had it pretty rough, and I promised I’d take him.”
Thunderlane rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine, I get that, but why would he even want to do the Sisterhooves in the first place? He can hang out with Rainbow Dash whenever he wants, can’t he?”
“What does it matter to you?”
The stallion prodded his chest, a proud smile on his face. “I’m a future Wonderbolt, in case you didn’t know. I’m on the same track Rainbow Dash is. And Wonderbolts don’t let their fellow ponies hurt themselves.”
“I suppose that’s a fair point.” Twilight rubbed her temples. “You’d have to ask Spike about his reasons. I could guess, but even I don’t know everything that goes on in that little scaly head of his. What I do know is that he deserves to have a good time, especially after everything that’s happened.”
“Look, if this is about the whole greed and growth thing-”
“No, no, it’s not. You don’t...”
“I don’t… what?”
“It’s personal.”
“Okay. And I’m not personal enough, you mean?”
“You wouldn’t unders-” She looked at him, with his eyebrow quirked, and realised how silly that sentence was about to be, so she aborted that plan swiftly. “Okay, maybe you would, of all ponies.”
“Thanks. I think. What is it I’d understand?”
Twilight wiped her eyes. “Do Wonderbolts have any confidentiality clause?”
“No. But if you want me to keep a secret, you can just ask.”
Twilight nodded and sighed. “Okay. Bear with me here, because I’ve thought about it a lot.”
"Right, thinking out loud, then.”
She gestured with her hooves, more to keep her own attention focused on the topic at hoof than anything else. “Everyone said Spike grows because of his greed, and everyone believed it. Everyone still believes it, just like that. Except I know for a fact that’s not true, because he’s had nice things before and he didn’t get that big because of it. He had way more things back in Canterlot, if anything, he would have grown there. But he didn’t. Then his birthday happened, I didn’t know what to do, and then all of a sudden, nopony did. Spike’s been with me for years, for most of my life and, well, all of his, and after all that, I finally learn he doesn’t really have anyone.”
“He’s got you. He’s got your friends.”
She stared at the grass, pensive. “I had to take him to a vet, Thunderlane. A vet. Think about that. I had to go ask Zecora what she knew, and… frankly, I’m not sure if I want him to be around her after that. She basically said to his face, to my face, that my number one assistant, my friend, the little dragon I hatched, was born evil. That’s still what everyone assumes about him, everyone believes that. Yet he stopped himself. Just him, nopony else did that, and no one can explain to me why or how. I can’t trust anyone when it comes to taking care of him.”
“Okay, I guess that’s one thing. Have you found out anything since?”
“Sure. I know how to contain him now, I know how to keep him calm, and...” She chuckled. “I even know where I can get some answers, if you can believe it.”
“Problem solved, then, right?”
“I wish. We crossed that bridge already. And when we did, we had to burn it. Like I said, Spike’s had it rough.” She wiped away a tear. “There’s a lot of things ponies in Ponyville don’t know about, things I don’t want them to know about. Too much to say here and now.”
“That’s still no reason to hurt yourself like this.”
“Not on its own, maybe. But all of it combined? It’s reason enough. Look, the bottom line is: I’ve failed him too many times already. I don’t know why he wants to be here, but I know why I do. I don’t want him to think my word is meaningless.”
Thunderlane’s ears twitched. “Your word meaning… you’ve already broken a promise to him. What, like recently? That’s what this is all about?”
“Something like that.”
The showdown was next to a shed, one with the door opened, presumably one of the Apples had needed to get some equipment there and forgot to close up. With a pile of haybales to her left, Scootaloo stood face to face with her rival.
“Spike,” she half-growled.
“Scootaloo,” the dragon hissed back.
The filly opened her mouth to say something.
“You’re nothin’ but a cheater!”
Spike furrowed his brow, and likewise opened his mouth to say something.
“How many times do I have to tell you? I wasn’t cheating!”
It was then that the two realised they weren’t the only ones with grudges in this competition, and that apparently the shed was a popular discussion forum. Apple Bloom had cornered Rumble, from the sound of it, and was currently in the process of chewing him out.
“Listen, Spike-”
“You can’t use a voice changing potion in a singing contest!”
“It wasn’t a potion; my voice sounds like that all the time!”
Scootaloo grumbled. This arguing was really getting in the way of her own arguing.
Spike rolled his eyes. “Okay, Scootaloo-”
“Ya can’t fool me, Mister! Every colt in class has a deep voice already, you’re just takin’ pills to perform your enhancements!”
“It’s a glandular problem!” Rumble cried back. “It’s not my fault I’m a late bloomer! I don’t like it, either! And it’s not ‘perform enhancements,’ it’s ‘performance enhancers!’"
“Ahah! So you are takin’ illegal pills!” Apple Bloom retorted, proud to find she was the sharpest tool in that particular shed.
Scootaloo let out a primal ‘grah’ that would have made her wizard ancestors proud and marched right past Spike and towards the entrance of the shed.
She did not, however, get a word in.
“Scootaloo?” Apple Bloom asked. “What are you doin’ here? Are you eavesdroppin’? Can’t you see I’m tryin’ to have an honest conversation with this’ere parabolic hyperbuser?”
“I am not abusing anything!” Rumble protested. “And it’s ‘anabolic abuser,’ for pity’s sake, no wonder you lost the spelling bee.”
“See? Another admission, straight outta the horse’s mouth! Why, you should be ashamed of yourself, Rumble.”
Scootaloo thought about trying to interrupt the conversation. This was quite a challenge, as thinking was not her strong suit. It was made all the more challenging, because both Apple Bloom and Rumble had enough volume to make an Archmage have trouble hearing his own thoughts.
Spike grumbled and came up behind the filly. “Are we gonna yell at each other now, too?”
Scootaloo shook her head. “No, Aunt Vinyl was right. Let’s just go someplace quiet.”
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My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
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Fascinating added depth, along with some hilarious moments mixed in at just the right ratio to keep the mood from getting oppressive. Especially the near-miss with Vinyl and Dash. So close, and yet...
8725404
*sigh of relief*
Thanks. Now I just need to get back into the groove and actually finish the story in a decent enough way, and it'll be fine. This one's been in development heck for a while, seriously.