Cutie Mark Crusader Fund Raisers
It is commonly thought that if there is anything that unites sapients, no matter their politics, religion, species, or culture, it is their hatred of Mondays. If anyone has managed to face the day with a smile, it is because they have developed a coping mechanism rather than out of any real joy.
Cheerilee proved this notion wrong on a regular basis. She valued her weekends, certainly. She enjoyed her free time, and relished the ability to sleep in on weekends. However, she also cared deeply for her students; they brightened her day.
Teaching them was more than simply her career, it was her passion. She loved every single one of her students. Even when they were all talking at once.
“Alright, everypony, settle down,” Cheerilee said firmly. The class quieted, and their teacher smiled. “Now, I’m sure you’re all eager to get to today’s math lesson…” a chorus of groans rose from most of the class. “...but first, we have some special guests.”
The groans quickly turned into excited muttering. “Everypony, please give a warm welcome to Twilight Sparkle and Pinkie Pie.”
The door to the schoolhouse swung open, and Pinkie bounced inside, followed closely by Twilight, who was carrying with her a stack of papers and a projector. “Goooood morning, everypony!” Pinkie cheered as she bounced to the front of the room. “Who’s ready to have a party?”
Wild cheering met her in reply. “Well, that’s what we’re here to talk about!” Pinkie continued. “There’s an ice cream party at Sugarcube Corner next Monday, and you’re all invited!”
The cheers were even louder this time. Twilight cleared her throat, to no avail. She glanced beseechingly at Pinkie, who quickly pulled a little can out of her mane.
An air horn blasted the room, and silence fell. “Thank you, Pinkie,” Twilight said, setting down her projector. “But before we get anypony any more excited, maybe I can explain why we’re having a party at all?”
“Okie-doke!”
Twilight turned to the class and smiled. “As I’m sure you all know, the recent royal wedding was badly disrupted by an
invasion of changelings.” The projector flicked on, and an image of several bug-like ponies battling a number of royal guards appeared on the screen.
“You also likely know that they were effectively repelled from Equestria by Princess Cadence and my brother, Prince-Consort Shining Armor,” Twilight continued, flipping to a photograph of the two at the altar.
“However,” she continued, turning to the class, “the changelings did far more damage than we initially suspected. Their invasion force was not limited to Canterlot. Smaller, but no less dangerous attacks occurred in Manehattan, Lawndon, Maris, Vanhoover, and St. Eligius. Princess Luna has reported no incidents on her trip to Copabanana, so we believe that no major thestral cities were targeted.
“This resulted in a great deal of property damage…” The image flicked to a row of demolished storefronts.
“... injured ponies, drained of love…” the image switched to a comatose stallion hooked to an IV drip.
“... and difficult conditions in general.” Twilight turned away from the image of a flooded street, where fireponies were helping a family into a life raft. “The government will be able to provide aid soon, but as Canterlot itself is in a state of disarray, it may be some time before the Royal Engineering Corps can be dispatched to any of the major cities.
“That’s where you come in,” Twilight continued. “Ponyville, along with several other unaffected towns, is working to raise money to buy supplies and labor to help with repairs. A sizable amount of Ponyville’s disaster relief fund has been sent already, but the mayor thinks that we can do better. So, we’re having a fundraiser.”
There was a dead silence that met her. Twilight grit her teeth and wore on. “You can donate as much or as little as you like; a portion of your allowance, some money made doing chores, a little from your piggy bank. Every little bit helps. A week from now, if over two hundred bits are raised, every student here will be invited to a celebratory ice cream social, as Pinkie said. The foal who raises the most money will--”
“Ooh, ooh, let me tell them, Twilight, let me!”
Twilight smiled. “Okay, Pinkie. Go ahead.”
Pinkie grinned. “I’ve been doing a lot of work recently, experimenting with baking and cooking and frosting, working to make the bestest-ever dessert of all time! And now, after almost three days off planning and scheming, I think I’ve outdone even myself. So, whoever raises the most money will receive not only an invitation to the ice cream party, but also the first-ever publicly available fudge brownie cookie-dough ice cream cake pie! It isn’t the first-ever one, ‘cause I had to try it first, and then I made one to show the Cakes, and another one for Real Princess Cadence and Shining Armor, and another one for Twilight to say sorry for being a not-listening nasty nincompoop. Nincompoop is a fun word, right? But it’s not so fun actually feeling like one.”
Twilight coughed, crossing one hind leg behind the other. “Well, it’s all forgiven now, Pinkie.”
“I know!” Pinkie chirped, bouncing slightly in place.
“Anyway, do any of you have questions?” Twilight asked, turning to the class. A yellow hoof shot into the air. “Apple Bloom?”
“Kin we work as a team?” she asked, hopefully.
“I don’t see why not, as long as you don’t mind splitting the prize when you’re finished,” Twilight replied.
The Crusaders exchanged looks of glee. There was no way anypony could beat all five of them together! “Diamond Tiara?” Twilight said.
“Can we borrow money from our parents?” the filly asked cagily, casting a side-eyed look at Silver Spoon.
“That’s between you and your parents. But yes, so long as they agree, that’s an acceptable method.”
Pinkie caught sight of the glances and glares among the students and frowned, but made no further comment. “No more questions? All right then, thank you all for your time,” Twilight said, packing away her equipment. “I’ve also made fliers for you to show your parents in case you, like Diamond, want to convince them to give you a little something extra. Thank you all for your time, and good luck to everypony.”
Twilight trotted back out the door to the sound of applause, Pinkie Pie bouncing along behind her. In the chaos, Scootaloo leaned into the aisle to glare at Silver Spoon. “Borrow all you like,” she growled. “We’ll mop the floor with you.”
Silver snorted contemptuously. “Please. We get more in our weekly allowance than you get in a year. Don’t embarrass yourself, Scootaloo, that’s what Diamond and I are here for.”
Scootaloo was about to retort when Cheerilee picked up the air horn that Pinkie had left behind and gave a short blast. “Now, settle down, everypony. Get out your math books and open them to page two-hundred seven.”
Scootaloo did as she was told, but continued to glare at Silver Spoon over the top of her book.
***
The Crusaders set out to work that very afternoon; it was, after all, a beautiful spring day, and if they could take advantage of the weather, they certainly would. They charged four bits to mow a yard, three to weed a garden, two to wash windows, and six to do none of the above, having discovered that ponies would, after seeing the ruins of their neighbors’ houses, pay good money to make the five foals stay away from their homes at all costs. After a good three hours work, they met back up at the clubhouse to pool their money.
“Well, we’ve made about sixty-eight bits,” Bloom announced, turning away from her tally-marked count. “How much ya reckon we still need?”
“Lots,” Rumble said, bouncing a ball off the clubhouse wall. “If those two ask their families to give extra dough, they will. Silver Spoon has family in Lawndon and St. Eligius, so her parents will give plenty.”
“An’ Filthy Rich is real good ‘bout givin’ money ta folk in need,” Bloom observed. “Ah dunno how he wound up with a filly like Diamond Tiara.”
“Well, if we keep working the way we have been, we can make four times that before the weekend,” Sweetie said.
Scootaloo shook her head. “Yeah, but we won’t. We’ll run out of ponies to do work for first, even if they don’t tell their friends what happened at Old Mare Joy’s house.”
Sweetie shuddered. “I was just trying to change her porch light! I don’t even know where all those spirits came from!”
“I know, I know,” Scootaloo sighed. “But that doesn’t change the fact that her house doesn’t technically exist anymore.”
Button furrowed his brow. “Okay… so what we need is to find somepony who needs a job done, but doesn’t care that much about neatness. Somepony willing to give that job to us. Somepony who doesn’t like to work, but has to do it anyway…”
Rumble missed the last bounce of the ball and sat up. “I got it!”
***
Rainbow Dash stared at the Crusaders through lidded eyes. “Gee. I’m honored,” she said.
Scootaloo stared at the ground, not daring to meet her mentor’s eyes. Rumble grinned. “Well, Cloudchaser always says that you spend all day napping on a cloud when you should be supervising the weather team,” he said innocently. “You sounded perfect.”
Dash glared at him. “Y’know, I’m almost tempted to have you try,” she said. “But if you did, that’d mess up the weather schedule, and I’d end up with the flack. So, I’m just going to put CC on Everfree duty for awhile, which I bet is what you probably wanted anyway.”
Rumble’s expression flashed from smug to shock to sheepish in the space of a moment. “Kinda,” he admitted.
Apple Bloom glared at him. “Seriously? Ya had us walk all th’ way out here an’ it wasn’t even fer serious?”
“It was so!” Rumble defended. “Yesterday, Cloudchaser stole my bed and pushed it out over the middle of town!”
“That doesn’t sound that bad…” Button said.
“While I was still sleeping in it?”
“Okay, Cloudchaser’s lame attempt at pranking aside, why do you guys need jobs, exactly?”
Sweetie launched into the spiel. Dash nodded, unusually solemn. “Yeah, it’s pretty terrible,” she agreed. “If I ever get my hooves on a changeling, they better watch out.”
“So, can you help us?” Button asked, tail wagging.
Dash smirked. “Sorry, kiddo. I haven’t got any jobs you could do from the ground.”
“Rumble and I could,” Scootaloo began, but Dash raised a hoof.
“Squirt, I love ya like a sister, but I heard about Old Mare Joy’s house. Actually, I flew through it. Did you know there’s a desert otherworld in there? It’s really, stupidly hot, so I left. Point is, I’m not letting any of you within fifty meters of my place unless I’m sure you haven’t got cleaning supplies.” She stared hard at them all for a long moment. This was a fatal mistake.
Each of the Crusaders possessed their own unique cuteness, ranging from Rumble’s skillful “I’m-not-crying-you’re-crying lip-tremble” to Apple Bloom’s classic “Ah-only-wanted-mah-cutie-mark pout” to Sweetie Belle’s entire existence. And though Dash was versed in staying cool even in the face of Scootaloo’s big puppy-dog eyes, she was wholly unprepared for the geometrically increased cuteness provided by the whole crew.
“Alright, alright,” she huffed. “I don’t have any jobs, but I know somepony who does.”
Scootaloo lit up like a match. “You do?” she gasped, wings buzzing.
“Yeah, Ditzy Doo,” Dash said. “Y’know, the mailmare?”
The Crusaders fell silent, cheers of delight falling flat on their lips. Rainbow frowned at their odd sullenness. “What's wrong with Ditzy Doo?” she asked. “She's almost nicer than Fluttershy.”
“Oh, there ain't nothin’ wrong with Ditzy,” Apple Bloom said quickly.
“She used to foalsit for me,” Scootaloo agreed. “She told good bedtime stories, and she always brought muffins.”
“Ditzy isn't the problem,” Rumble said. “The problem is Dinky.”
Dash stared. “Her daughter? Why, what's she like?”
There was a rush to reply. “Doesn't like anypony--” “Don't like ta make friends--” “--blew up a desk--” “--always studying!” “Mean!” “Sarcastic!” “Glares at anypony that tries to talk to her!”
“And she's dangerous!” they chorused.
“Even Diamond don’t pick on her. She’s too scared o’ what Dinky might do back!”
Dash scoffed. “Oh, c’mon. What’s the worst she could do?”
Ten flat, dead eyes met hers. “Kindergarten show’n’tell,” Bloom said flatly. “She brought in a potata clock. Some kids laughed at her fer powerin’ it with a tater. Next day, they sat down an’ got joy-buzzered by spuds.”
“First grade recess,” Scootaloo continued. “Launched a kid off the end of a teeter-totter ‘cause he’d made fun of her mom.”
“Second grade science fair,” Sweetie said. “Let’s just say that nopony who saw it will ever again look at noodles the same way.”
“And those are just the times she’s been caught,” Rumble concluded, glumly. “So we leave her alone as much as possible. She’s terrifying!”
Dash looked at them all sidelong. “Didn’t you guys almost burn down Applejack’s barn with lemons?”
“What’s yer point?”
“I’m just saying, if push comes to shove, I think you guys might just be a little more dangerous than she is.”
There was a little bit of uncomfortable shifting from the five. “Well, I guess you could look at it that way…” Button said.
“Uh-huh. Anyway, Ditzy’s got this… I dunno, some kind of conference. I didn’t ask for details. There’s some kind of replacement for her mail route, but she told me she needed somepony to watch her house and stuff. She’s leaving tomorrow, so you guys should decide now if you’re in or not.”
She looked at them all encouragingly. Apple Bloom scrunched up her nose. Rumble shuffled his hooves. Scootaloo squared her jaw, meeting her idol’s eye. “I’ll do it,” she said firmly. “We’ll do it.”
“Hold on,” Rumble objected, but he was cut off when Button and Sweetie both voiced their assent as well.
He glanced at Bloom, her lips pursed and her hooves planted. She nodded. “Alright,” she agreed.
Rumble dragged a hoof across his face. “Oh Celestia, I already know I’m gonna regret this,” he growled. “Fine. Cutie Mark Crusader Housesitters go.”
The others repeated his words, louder and more enthusiastically, then ran off to Ditzy’s house. Rainbow watched them go, grinning slightly. “Good luck!” she shouted after them as they turned from figures to specks to nothing at all in the distance. Then she sighed, fluffed up her cloud, and fell asleep once more.
***
By the time the Crusaders had arrived at Ditzy’s house, their sense of camaraderie and enthusiasm had dimmed, somewhat. “Go ring the bell,” Rumble muttered to Button.
“What? Why me?” Button protested.
“You’re the newest Crusader,” Rumble replied. “You gotta.”
“I don’t,” Button replied with some heat. “Scootaloo should do it, this was her idea.”
“Well, all of you agreed with me,” Scootaloo grumbled. “How much should we charge for this, anyway?”
Sweetie rubbed her chin. “I think we can probably go up to maybe thirty bits a day,” she said. “If only a couple of us work here at a time, while the others keep up the odd jobs around town, I think we can rake in, um…”
“Around seventy bits every day,” Scootaloo said. “Times the five days between when we start and finish, that’s three hundred fifty bits.”
There was a moment of silence. “Will that be enough?” Button asked.
“Dunno,” Scootaloo admitted. “But it’ll be a pretty big donation, either way.”
Apple Bloom set her jaw. “Right. Ah’ll go ring th’ bell.” She marched straight up to the front door and yanked on the bell-pull. A series of chimes rang out, and the filly stepped back.
From up above, the second-story window flew open, and a ball of feathers shot out, frantically flapping and attempting gymnastic feats. The Crusaders stared in silent befuddlement as the grey body landed on the grass, turned a somersault, and stumbled onto her hooves again. Ditzy smiled at the five. “Hello there,” she said. “I didn’t realize it was Filly Scout cookie season already.”
“Uh, it’s not,” Sweetie said.
“Oh.” Ditzy’s smile faded slightly, but quickly returned to its original intensity. “So what can I do for you kids then?” She gasped, excited. “Or are you here for Dinky?”
“No, ma’am. We’re here fer th’ house-watchin’ job? Rainbow Dash tole us you were goin’ outta town…”
“Oh, yes, the physics conference, I was just packing for it,” Ditzy nodded. “It’s a good thing you stopped by, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to find anypony in time! I can pay you all… mm, thirty-five bits a day, does that sound fair?”
There was a moment of stunned silence. The pegasus’s smile faded. “Oh, dear. I don’t know if I can go much higher…”
“It’s great!” Sweetie said hastily. “Thirty-five is really, really good. Uh, do we get a list of things to do, or, y’know, how often to do them?”
“That does sound like a good idea,” Ditzy agreed. “I’ll have one ready by the time I leave tomorrow. If you could meet me back here tomorrow at noon-- no, you have school. I’ll have Dinky give it to you, instead.”
“Uh, yes’m,” Button said.
“Great! I’m sorry I can’t stay and talk, but I’ve got to finish packing my notes. Thank you!” With as much care and caution as she had landed, Ditzy flapped her way back up to her window, dove in, and shut it behind her.
The Crusaders stared up in bewilderment. Rumble broke the silence first. “Physics conference?”
Scootaloo shrugged. “Basically everypony in town has hidden depths. Why not her?”
There was a general murmur of assent as they all trotted away. None of them paid notice to the glittering golden eye that peered at them from behind a curtain.
***
The next day was damp and overcast, but it at least had the virtue of not being Monday. The Crusaders met outside the school under the shelter of an elm tree. “I made an extra fifteen bits for helping Rarity dust under the cupboards!” Sweetie announced, excited.
“Ah asked Granny fer an advance on mah allowance,” Bloom agreed. “That’s twelve bits extra this week.”
“I smashed my piggy bank,” Button said. “That’s another forty bits.”
Sweetie’s eyes went wide. “You’re giving it all away?” she asked.
“Yeah. I mean, I’ll have to miss going to the arcade for a little while, and I… won’t get to buy…” he struggled with his words. “Won’t get to buy Selene Prime for a little while longer,” he eventually spat out.
The others watched as he took in a deep breath and visibly relaxed. “But I don’t think I could enjoy it all that much if I kept thinking about all those ponies in trouble,” he concluded with as much brightness as ever.
Rumble huffed. “I found seven bits in the couch cushions.”
Scootaloo shrugged. “I didn’t think to ask for any money, but I’ll do it when I get home.”
“That might not be for some time,” a quiet, yet cutting voice said. Everypony started and stared at the newly-arrived hooded figure.
“Dinky?” Button asked. “When did you get here?”
“About a minute ago, while you were having histrionics about not be able to afford a new video game.” Dinky pulled back the hood of her yellow raincoat and let her mane cascade over her withers. She stared at them emotionlessly. “Mom told me to give this to you,” she said, levitating a fairly thick scroll over to them.
Cautiously, Scootaloo took it from the air and looked it over. A frown creased her features for a moment, but she rolled up the letter again and it was gone. “Thanks, Dinky.”
“I suppose I’ll be seeing more of all of you over the next few days.”
“Guess so,” Sweetie agreed.
The tiny unicorn nodded. “Interesting. Good-bye, Crusaders. I will walk with you after school.” She turned and trotted toward the schoolhouse.
As soon as she was gone, Rumble stomped a hoof. “She’s literally half my size! Why the Tartar Sauce is she so scary?”
Scootaloo tucked the scroll into her saddlebag roughly. “We’ll have plenty of time to think about that this week,” she said. “C’mon, we’ll be late.”
***
School passed in a blur of facts and figures, and all too soon was over. The five made their way out of the school to wait for Dinky, who had stayed behind to ask Cheerilee some questions about the nature of light. “So,” said Scootaloo. “Who’s gonna go to Ditzy’s house, and who’s gonna go do other jobs?”
There arose almost immediately a squabble, which ended when Rumble stomped on a twig. The resounding crack echoed in the silence. “Eenie-meenie,” he said with finality. “First two picked go to Ditzy’s.”
“Fair,” Apple Bloom agreed. “Alright, go.”
Within two minutes, it was decided. Scootaloo and Apple Bloom would be housesitting today; the others would take their chances at home or around town. As Dinky exited the school building, Sweetie, Rumble, and Button all took their leave of their fellow Crusaders. “Right,” Dinky said, trotting past the duo without even slowing down. “Follow me, then.”
Scootaloo and Apple Bloom exchanged a glance, but fell into step behind her. “I don’t know why mom insisted on hiring these jobs out to other ponies,” Dinky said. “There’s nothing on that list that I can’t do perfectly well on my own, I’m certain.”
“Ah wouldn’t be so sure--”
“Hm?” Dinky turned her head and fixed Bloom with a golden-eyed stare.
“Ah mean,” Apple Bloom corrected, “there’s more’n a couple jobs on here that call fer more’n one pony.”
“Hm.” Dinky turned forwards again. “I see. Well, as long as you’re working for such an exorbitant fee, we may as well get some rules set down.”
“Isn’t exorbitant that stuff in sugar-free gum?” Scootaloo asked.
“You will do the jobs set down on the list. No others. You will then leave. During the time spent doing your work, you will keep any disturbances of me or my work to the absolute bare minimum.”
Apple Bloom opened her mouth to retort, but was prodded sharply in the side by a wing. She snapped her mouth shut again. “Fine,” she said flatly. “We’ll do our best. But y’all’re gonna need ta show us where the garden hose an’ suchlike are kept.”
“Very well,” Dinky agreed. She pushed open the gate and led the two Crusaders into the yard. At the edge of the front stoop, she turned abruptly and gave each of them a stern glare. “Seriously. Don’t interfere with my work. There’s very sensitive equipment in my room, and I don’t want my experiments messed up.”
“Fair enough,” Scootaloo agreed easily. “So, where’s the shed?”
Dinky opened the door and led them inside. “Brooms, shovels, and most gardening tools are in that closet,” she said gesturing. “Most of the indoor cleaning supplies are in the kitchen, under the sink. If they aren’t there, there’s a shelf in the bathroom you can check. The watering can is by the pump, which is in the southeast corner of the yard. Questions.”
Scootaloo pulled out the list and gave it the once-over. “No, I think that’s--”
“Excellent.” Dinky nodded once and gave each of them a thin smile. “Good luck.” Then, she trotted upstairs to her room.
She felt their gazes on her back as she trotted upstairs. Let them stare. Better gawked at than betrayed again.
***
“So, what-all’s first?” Bloom asked. They had gone over the list at lunchtime. There wasn’t too much on there-- privately, Apple Bloom couldn’t help but agree that Dinky could’ve done most of this alone. Still, she ought to be grateful that she didn’t have to do all this work, shouldn’t she? Then she remembered the kind note that Ditzy had left in the scroll, and she swallowed her annoyance.
Scootaloo consulted the scroll again. “Water the garden, dust the furniture, and weed the flowers,” she listed. “I’ll dust if you’ll water.”
“An’ we kin both weed,” Bloom nodded. “Alright. An’, uh, th’ other thing…”
Scootaloo scrunched her nose. “I know. But hey, we aren't getting this kinda money for lazing around. We can figure something out.”
“Ah hope so,” Bloom agreed, looking up at the house.
***
Dinky glanced out the window. Apple Bloom was still watering the flowers. Not terribly efficiently, she had to say; why she would use a watering can when there was a perfectly good hose to be had was beyond Dinky.
She turned back to her homework. Light, tonight; only a page of algebra and three chemistry problems. She pushed them aside. They would keep for now. She had more interesting work to do. She pulled out the metal hilt from where it sat, harmless-looking and apparently quotidian, on her bookshelf. Few knew its true nature; the prototype of a real-life plasma epee, straight out of Solar Battles.
When her mother had learned of Dinky’s plot to construct a sci-fi weapon, her only response was to smile genially, kiss the filly on the head, and tell her that Dinky's father would have been proud. That was almost enough to make her quit the project there and then; the idea that she was at all like her absentee father turned her stomach. But it hadn't been quite enough to keep her away for long.
“Soon,” she muttered, eyes flashing hungrily. “All will know and fear the might of Ater Kronos!”
There was a knock at her door, and Dinky froze. Out of sheer reflex, she shoved the device away from her. “Not now, Mom!”
There was a long, terrible silence. Dinky grit her teeth. “Shut up.”
“I didn't say anything!”
“Shut up anyway!” Dinky took in a deep breath. “What do you want, Scootaloo?”
“I’m dusting. Your room is the only one left on this floor, so lemme in.”
Dinky scowled, and her horn flashed gold. The door swung open. “I told you not to disturb me,” she said, not looking away from her desk.
“Not if we could help it,” Scootaloo corrected. “Well, I can't. This is just my job.”
Dinky made a noise that sat somewhere between an irate Doberman pinscher and a rusty gear. “Make it quick,” she muttered, sitting back in her seat.
“Sure.” Scootaloo fluffed out her feathers and opened the window. Then, she began to rapidly beat her wings over Dinky's bedspread. Little clouds of dust rose into the air, and Scootaloo drove them towards the open window.
“My mom does this faster.”
“Your mom has bigger wings than me,” Scootaloo replied, surprisingly evenly. “So, what is this big project you’re working on?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Just making conversation.”
Dinky made no reply. Scootaloo continued to dust, but she was frowning now. “Nice posters,” she said, gesturing to the wall.
Dinky whipped around. “What do you mean by that?” she snapped.
Scootaloo stopped flapping in surprise, and the dust cloud settled. “I just meant ‘nice posters’. Solar Battles is a good series. I really liked the whole ‘Ater Pater is Sky Runner’s dad’ thing. Good twist.”
“Not really. Ater Pater is just Pegasopolitan for ‘dark father’. Obvious in hindsight.”
“Well, yeah, but hindsight is 20-20. What, did you just watch one of the biggest twists in cinematic history and go, ‘oh, that makes sense’?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.” Scootaloo looked around. “Star Trot is good too. I think I like that one even better than Solar Battles.”
“Which generation?”
“Oh, uh, hard call. The new--”
“I don’t care.”
Scootaloo returned to dusting in silence. “Oh, hey, is that a replica plasma epee?”
“No. It’s a real one.”
“C’mon, don’t be like that. It’s really nice.”
“I’m making it myself.”
“Neat! How does it work?”
Dinky picked up the hilt. “Do you really want to see?” she asked, pointing it at Scootaloo.
“Uh, yeah!”
Dinky hovered over the button. “Really?”
Scootaloo stared down the barrel of the device. “Uh, maybe another time,” she muttered, turning away.
Dinky grunted, a satisfied smirk crossing her face as the pegasus finished dusting and left the room.
***
“She's just… ugh!” Scootaloo stabbed at a weed with her hoof. “Impossible!”
“Maybe ya just didn't start out on the right hoof,” Bloom suggested, peering over at her friend from the other side of the garden plot.
“No! I tried to talk about what she was interested in and she shut me down like that!” She stomped for emphasis, crushing a dahlia by accident.
Bloom frowned, and Scootaloo sheepishly lifted her hoof and kicked some dirt over the unfortunate flower. “An’ then she threatened you with some sci-fi laser weapon?”
“I can’t believe you don’t know what a plasma epee is, but yes. Just for trying to be friendly!”
“Hm.” Bloom scrutinized a particularly deep-seated root for a moment. “I dunno what ta tell ya, Scoots. Mebbe she just don’t want friends.”
“Who doesn’t want friends?”
Bloom shrugged. “Dunno. Her, Ah guess.”
“Ugh.”
“C’mon, chin up. We’ll get th’ job done some way or another.”
Scootaloo huffed and jabbed at another thick-leafed plant with her hoof. “Look at all these weeds! How did Ditzy let them get this bad?”
“Scoots, that’s a hosta. It’s meant ta be there.”
There was a long, terrible pause as both fillies stared at one another, then back at the area of ripped-off stalks that Scootaloo had cleared. “Ah’ll get a shovel.”
“And duct tape.”
***
The next day, Sweetie Belle was selected to work at the house of Doo. Immediately after she was chosen, Button volunteered to go along with her. Rumble rolled his eyes, muttering something about ‘better you than me’, but Button chose not to pay him any mind. Instead, he trailed along behind Sweetie as she pored over the list. “Looks like we’re going to clean the kitchen and the bathrooms,” she said. “After that, laundry. Does that sound okay?”
“Uh-huh,” Button replied. He really wasn’t listening to what Sweetie was saying. He was too busy staring at his JoyBoy, tapping away at the screen. He was one of only a hoofful of ponies in town who had mastered the art of walking on two legs, and he was using that skill now to play Catchimals Move! with both forehooves.
Sweetie glanced back. “You’re going to want to put that somewhere safe while we’re working,” she warned.
“K.”
“You can’t play games while we’re doing chores.”
“Mm-hm.”
“I need you to recalibrate the most recent styrofoam grapefruit.”
“Alright.”
Sweetie sighed and turned back to the list. “Don’t forget, be nice to Dinky. If we make her angry, I don’t wanna think about what she’ll do.” She nodded firmly. “We’re going on the charm offensive,” she declared. “We’ll make that filly be our friend come Tartarus or tempests.”
“Yeah!”
Sweetie glanced back, surprised at the relevant interjection. “I caught a manotaur!” Button crowed. “Half-manatee, half-minotaur! What should I call him?”
Rolling her eyes, Sweetie faced front again as they approached the house of Doo.
***
Dinky blinked as she heard the doorbell ring, looking up from where she lounged on the couch. She lit her horn and the front door swung open. “You’re late,” she said flatly. “You were meant to walk me home from school.”
“Sorry,” Sweetie said. “I had to run an errand for Rarity, first. But we’re here now!”
“Hmph,” Dinky replied.
“It’s nice to see you,” Sweetie tried.
“Pah.”
“I heard you did really well on that math test the other day!”
“As if there were ever a doubt.” Dinky flipped a page in her book, studying a diagram of thaumic flow through a capacitor.
Sweetie glanced back at Button. “Help me out,” she hissed.
Button shuffled his hooves. “Uh, hey, Dinky.”
“What?”
Button’s mind raced. What could he possibly say to pique her interest? Something about video games? No. ‘What are you reading?’ Probably a technical explanation that he couldn’t hope to follow. ‘So, do ya like jazz?’ Um, no.
“How much money have you raised for the fundraiser?” he blurted.
She paused halfway through turning a page. “Fifty bits,” she replied. “I smashed my piggy bank.”
“That’s really good,” Button complimented. “Are you teaming up with anypony else?”
“No.”
“Oh.” Button considered this. “Would you like to?” he asked.
Sweetie stared at him in alarm. “What are you doing?” she hissed.
Dinky actually set her book aside to sit up and scrutinize the colt more closely. “You’re new in town, aren’t you?”
Button scuffed a hoof in the linoleum. “Um. I’ve been here for three months now…”
“New enough, then. Let me tell you one thing. I work alone. No exceptions.”
He looked at the floor. “Oh.” He glanced up again. “Um, well, once we’re done here, I don’t think we have any other jobs to do. Would you maybe like to go out and play?”
“Yes.” Dinky said flatly. “I love going out to play. I do it all the time. You always see me out of doors, horsing around with my myriad chums, laughing like billy-o.”
Button beamed. “Great! That sounds like fun! I can’t wait.”
Dinky blinked, lizard-like. Sweetie coughed. “He doesn’t really do sarcasm,” she muttered. “Too earnest.”
“Ah,” Dinky nodded. “Yes, I see. Button, I don’t think I made myself quite clear. Allow me to rephrase my statement.”
He looked up, eyes wide and friendly. She stared into those deep, open orange irises and said, clearly, “I want to stay inside and read. By myself.”
She felt a little guilty, watching the light drain from his eyes. There was a reason she didn’t like talking to other ponies. Their weakness made her feel terribly awkward. Really, though, he did set himself up for that. She repeated that to herself as the colt burst into tears and Sweetie Belle led him away.
***
The next day, at recess, the Crusaders met under the elm. Rumble looked grim as Sweetie explained what had happened the day before. “You did get the jobs done?”
“Yeah, once Button stopped crying.”
“How long did that take?”
Sweetie scrunched her muzzle. “Less than an hour?”
“Oh. Well, that’s… good?” Scootaloo tried.
“Yeah, I think I’m getting better at not letting things get to me!” Button said proudly.
“Fine,” Rumble huffed. “So it’s my turn now. Who’s going with me?”
Scootaloo and Apple Bloom exchanged looks. Eventually, the latter sighed. “Fine. But Ah don’t gotta go back again, ya hear?”
Scootaloo nodded. “Okay, sure. But guys, we’ve got to do something about Dinky.”
“How about a hoof sandwich?” Rumble asked.
“Ha ha. No.”
“Kidding,” Rumble said, rolling his eyes. “Mostly kidding…”
“Don’t do anything like that when you’re at her house later on, okay?” Sweetie said.
Rumble put a hoof to his heart. “Colt Scout’s honor.”
***
Rumble had never been a Colt Scout.
***
It had started out so simply. All they had to do was wash the windows and trim the hedges. They didn’t even need to go inside, or see Dinky at all. Rumble wasn’t ‘happy’, per se, but he was prepared to accept this compromise.
Then Apple Bloom had cut her hoof on a thorn bush and the situation had changed. That was fine. Rumble was perfectly willing to go inside and fetch out a medical kit, Dinky or no Dinky.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to find a medical kit. So he had to ask Dinky. She had rolled her eyes and grumbled a lot, but she fetched down the first-aid kit from under the kitchen sink. Rumble ignored the snark. He had been guilty of being rude to other foals before. He was prepared to let this slide, though he did bite his tongue hard enough to draw blood once or twice when she complained about Apple Bloom’s carelessness.
Then they had gone outside to where Bloom was sitting in the shade. She looked up at the approaching duo and smiled. “Thanks, you two.”
Dinky snorted. The hairs on the back of Rumble’s mane stood on end. “Don’t thank me,” she said shortly. “I had nothing to do with it.”
Something inside Rumble broke. “Are you serious right now?” he demanded, turning on Dinky. “You don’t want to talk. You don’t want to play. Everything about you screams that you don’t want to be our friend. But now you won’t even take gratitude? Exactly what is with you that means you don’t even want to talk to us mere mortals?”
For the first time, Dinky looked off-balance. She recovered quickly. “Why do you want to know?” she shot back.
Rumble stared at her. “Because! Because you’ve insulted my friends! Because you threatened Scootaloo! Because you made Button cry! Because I don’t want to put up with this horseapples anymore!” He took a deep breath.
“Because I’ve been there, too,” he continued. “Because I’ve sat alone in my room, hating the world. Because I didn’t have any friends either. Because, Celestia help me, I care about you. I care about ponies. Terrible habit, I know, but there. you. Are.”
His wisteria eyes cut into Dinky like spades. “So. Do you want to talk or not?” he demanded.
A moment’s pause. Then, without a word or a backwards glance, Dinky turned and walked back into the house. Rumble cursed once, and then all was silence.
“...Think y’all kin patch me up, now?”
“Yeah. Sorry.”
“...Are you okay?”
Rumble didn’t say another word as he tore a bandage off the roll.
***
Dinky slammed the door behind her and slumped back, drawing in a deep, shuddering sob of a breath. How dare he. How dare he pry into her life like that? How dare he try to guilt her into telling her secrets? How dare he try and care about her? She stared at the wall, not really seeing it. What the Tartarus did he know, anyway? Who had he ever been hurt by?
She resisted the tiny voice in the back of her head that whispered quietly, anypony and everypony, and you'd never know. If you'd only listened...
"Shut up," she growled.
Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness.
"Then shut up so I'm not."
It fell silent, and Dinky buried her head in her hooves.
***
When she lifted her head again, it was noticeably darker outside, and the deepening shadows oozed across the room. Apple Bloom and Rumble would have gone home long ago. Dinky shoved the door open and stomped downstairs to have dinner.
She threw open the fridge door and stared inside for a long, detached moment. Then, she pulled out a Tupperware container of pasta that her mom had prepared before leaving for the conference. She wished her mom was here now. She was glad her mom wasn't here right now. She slammed the fridge door and grabbed a fork out of the silverware box. She dug in savagely before she even got to the kitchen table.
She clambered up into her chair, not ceasing her attack on her asparagus ravioli as she did so. She let her supper clatter to the table, still cold from the fridge. There was a scroll sitting in the center of the table.
Dinky stared at it for a long moment. Was that-- it was! The job scroll for the Crusaders! Was this their way of resigning? She felt another pang of guilt, but quashed it with prejudice. She unrolled the parchment and glanced over it. The first three days had all been checked off, which meant that there were two days of chores for Dinky to do. Alone, she supposed.
Then, she caught sight of more writing below the last day's checklist, scribbled in different-colored ink from the rest of the scroll, almost as if it had been written in later. Frowning, she pulled the paper closer and read.
Dear Crusaders,
Thank you all for volunteering to help while I'm away; I'm sure you're all very busy with school and attempting to get your cutie marks. I think that the amount of work I've laid out for you shouldn't interfere terribly with your lives. However, I have one last request to make of you. I can't pay you for this job, and it's entirely up to you if you will accept it or not. You'll get the money for house-sitting either way. But please, hear this mother's plea. My daughter is alone. She doesn't make friends easily. There's a story behind why, but not one that I feel I should burden you with. Suffice it to say, she and I were both hurt very badly by somepony we trusted. I recovered from the betrayal. Dinky didn't.
I'm afraid for my daughter. She pushes away everypony except me, hides her beauty from the world out of fear that she may be loved. She hurts those around her, but the one she hurts most is herself. Please, if you can, try to talk to her. Just a little bit? She can't stay alone forever. She shouldn't have stayed alone for this long. Won't you please help me break down her barriers?
Thanks again,
Ditzy
Dinky let the parchment fall to the table, her face numb. She sat there for a long moment. Her golden aura tarnished to a mustard shade, and with a wild cry, she threw her dinner to the floor. She stormed from the room, haunted by memories of a cheerful purple unicorn.
***
The next day, the Crusaders didn't have to go to Dinky. She came to them. She trotted quickly through the apple orchard, where the heavy green canopy sheltered her from the sun. Every step was quick and staccato, each centimeter forwards fraught with doubt about the welcome she would receive. Had she gone too far? Would they accept her apologies? She should turn around now.
Not a chance, the little voice at the back of her head whispered.
So on she walked until she could see a little fort hidden up in the trees. Well. 'Little' was a misnomer. So was 'hidden', come to that. The place was a huge mass of firepony poles and ladders and windows and telescopes, and that was just what she could see from a distance. The closer she got, the more intimidating it grew. But she was determined not to be frightened by a mere building. She drew up close and knocked on the trapdoor.
There was a long silence. Then the hatch swung open, and Scootaloo poked her head out. "Oh. Uh, hi, Dinky. Um, I dunno how to tell you this, but I think we sort of--"
"Quit, yes," Dinky agreed. She took a deep breath. "I've come to apologize."
Scootaloo said nothing, but moved out of the way. Dinky trotted up the stairs and into the clubhouse. Five pairs of eyes bored into her. She closed the hatch with a backwards kick and met their eyes, one by one. "I suppose you're curious about what incited all this," she said, voice brittle.
There was a quiet murmur of denials. "You don't have to," Rumble said flatly.
"I had a stepfather. He was kind and nice, and acted like he loved me and my mother. He lived with us for nearly a year. Then he skipped town with most of our savings, and we never saw him again." She glared around the room. "Suffice it to say, I no longer trust easily."
Silence. Button looked to be about to say something, but Apple Bloom jabbed him in the ribs. "But?" she prompted.
Dinky huffed. "But that doesn't excuse the way I acted," she continued. "You were... genuinely trying to be nice to me. I pushed you away even harder than usual. I'm..." she swallowed back something phlegmy. "Sorry."
They all exchanged glances and grins. Rumble stuck out a hoof. "Apology accepted."
Sweetie leaned forwards, eyes sparkling. "Does this mean you want to be a Crusader?"
Dinky screwed up her mouth into a thoughtful scowl. "Well... I've just learned that my mother thinks me antisocial, and on reflection, I can't disagree. This seems as good a place as any to get over that."
They seemed ready to cheer, but Dinky held up a hoof. "On one condition!"
Silence fell as Dinky looked around the room once more. "I have to swear some kind of oath, correct?"
"Yep! I rewrote it and everything!" Scootaloo said proudly.
"I want all of you to retake it as well." She looked around the room. "If I'm swearing loyalty, I want loyalty sworn to me as well."
The Crusaders said nothing, but glanced at one another. Then, Apple Bloom nodded. "Can't say fairer'n that," she agreed. "Alright. We'll do it tomorra, after we get the initiation set up."
"Initiation?"
"We gotta make sure you can keep up with us somehow."
"Hmph. Fine."
Scootaloo cocked her head. "So... does this mean you're going to team up with us for the fundraiser and beat Diamond and Silver?"
Dinky considered this. Then, she grinned ferally. "Let's crush them."
***
The day had come. The hour was now. The six Crusaders had raised a grand total of three hundred and seventy-nine bits. They, along with all the other children in town, had gathered at Sugarcube Corner for the big announcement; who would win? Who would lose?
Pinkie and Twilight stood on a makeshift stage set up against one wall, staring out and smiling at the audience as the children buzzed with excitement. That buzz rose to a dull roar as Pinkie stepped up to the microphone. “Guys, gals, and nonbinary pals… are you ready for this?”
The foals broke out into wild cheers. Pinkie cocked her head. “I can't heeeaar you…”
Louder cheers, interspersed with whoops and whistles.
Pinkie pulled out an ear trumpet. “A little bit louder?”
“Pinkie.” Twilight was frowning at her.
“On second thought, I guess I probably did hear you that time,” Pinkie acknowledged, tucking the hearing aid away. She beamed at Cheerilee’s class. “So without further ado, let's have that envelope, huh?”
Cheers rang out again. Pinkie glanced around. “Now, if my lovely assistant would just give it to me…”
Gummy, dressed in a sequined, scale-tight leotard, sat motionless on a table, the envelope tucked in his mouth. Pinkie grabbed the alligator and pulled him close. “Thank you, lovely assistant!”
Spike leaned over to Rumble. “Man, that gator has it easy. I get letters from miles away, see if Twilight ever calls me her lovely assistant.”
“Shh!” all the Crusaders hissed.
Spike raised his claws. “Okay, fine. I’ll suffer in silence.”
“And the winner of the competition, and the first pony to try my fudge brownie cookie dough ice cream cake pie is… drum roll, please…”
The foals obligingly put their hooves on the table, filling Sugarcube Corner with anticipation and noise. Pinkie ripped open the envelope, and a shower of confetti poured out.
“Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon, who raised four hundred and seventy-three bits! Wow! Let's hear it for these two, everypony!”
Wild whoops and cheers filled the crowd. The two rich fillies stood up, smiling at the grown-ups and smirking at their peers. Silver Spoon gave an especially saccharine smile to Scootaloo, who merely rolled her eyes and sat back.
Apple Bloom sighed. “Well, we gave it our all,” she said, watching ruefully as the pair of bullies sat down at the booth with the dessert. “That's all anypony kin ask.”
Ditzy smiled at all six foals. “I’m so proud of all of you,” she said, wrapping her wings around the group.
“But we didn't win,” Dinky grumped. “All that work, and what was it for?”
“Ice cream party?” Sweetie pointed out.
“Helping ponies?” Rumble suggested.
“Knowing that we helped rebuild a whole actual city?” Button added.
Dinky grumbled incoherently, but she looked at the duo enjoying their dessert with a little less envy.
“Now, as for the rest of you,” Pinkie continued, looking back at the foals. “First, I’ve just gotta say. Wow. Wowee-wow-wow! Do you all know how much you raised? Cause it's a lot. It's a lot more than we were expecting! We only really thought you guys could raise maybe a thousand bits. Maybe, maybe, one and a quarter thousand. But you ponies raised one and a half thousand bits! That's fifteen hundreds! That's one hundred and fifty tens! That's a whole lot of money! Everypony was so impressed with you guys? Are you impressed with yourselves?”
A chorus of yes-es and cheers met this question. Pinkie’s grin threatened to reach blinding levels of brightness. “We were all so impressed, we just had to do something extra-special for you,” she said. “So, I stayed up late all last night with Mr. Cake, but not Mrs. Cake, ‘cause she's pregnant and needs her rest, and we made you each a mini-tiny fudge brownie cookie-dough ice cream cake pie! Glamorous assistant! Show them what they've won!”
Gummy had at some point crawled over to the table and held a corner of the cloth in his mouth. He tottered on the edge, and fell to the ground, taking the cloth with him and revealing about two dozen bowls full of pure sugary goodness. Silence reigned for a full moment. Even Diamond and Silver stopped eating their giant version of the dessert to gaze at the table in shock. And then the cheering started again. Pinkie could definitely hear them, this time.
***
“Ah, that hit the spot,” Sweetie said, sitting back. “I couldn't eat another bite.”
“I don't think I can finish the rest of mine,” Scootaloo said, pushing away her bowl.
Button brightened. “Can I have it?”
“Go crazy.” Scootaloo rested her head on the table. “Ugh.”
“Psst, Scoots!” Bloom gestured to Diamond and Silver. The silver filly had fallen onto her back, clutching her stomach. Diamond was looking rather green as she contemplated the next spoonful of dessert. At length, she dropped the spoon into the bowl and collapsed into the upholstery. Scootaloo snorted a laugh, and the others chuckled, too.
Just for a moment, Dinky forgot her sorrows. She forgot the pain and the emotions she'd bottled away. She forgot Ponet, and she forgot her mother's tears, and she forgot her own hardened heart. Just for a moment. But it was a start.
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Personally speaking, I quite enjoyed this. Some excellent ideas and character interactions on display. And "tartar sauce" is an ingenious local minced oath. You may be disappointed with this, but I'm still glad you wrote it.
9899429
Thank you. That really does mean a lot to me.