Equestria Girls: It's Showtime--Wallace and Gromit in Diamonds Are Not Best Friends

by PlymouthFury58

IV. The Plot Thickens

Spike didn’t mind playing outdoor activities like a regular run-of-the-mill dog, even if it was catching the frisbee close to sundown. It gave not only him a reason to get out of the house and stretch his doggy legs and exercise, but also enough reason to force his shut-in owner to at least step out of her dingy laboratory and stop and smell the roses. If not the roses, then at least to jog in her running shoes to keep her leg bones from catching an early case of arthritis.

And if she didn’t shriek at every passing bumble or honey bee that was on its way home to the hive, it could’ve been more enjoyable had she properly aimed the frisbee to where he didn’t have to jump into the wildflowers to retrieve it, thereby risking to catch an allergy to pollen. Was it even possible to catch allergies that way?

Spike once again stuck his head in the flower bush after yet another poor excuse of a frisbee throw, only to find a familiar looking white bunny rabbit stroking his head in pain while the frisbee disk was laying right next to him.

“Angel? What are you doing here? I was supposed to see you tomorrow.”

Spike’s questioning was interrupted by a small white paw firmly placing itself over his muzzle, stifling an out loud annoyed sigh. Angel then indicated with his other paw in a shushing motion, then nodded his head in Twilight’s direction.

“What do you need me for, dude?”

Angel fiercely indicated again, this time pointing to the both of them, saying that the two of them needed to talk in private. This is important, and you need to keep this between ourselves only.

“Spike?” Twilight called out. “Where are you?”

Angel shooed Spike out. Spike stuck out his head, still facing the bush with the insistent rabbit. “Uh, sorry, Twilight! I’m uh, needed elsewhere! I’ll be back later!”

“Oh, um, o-okay then!”

He didn’t wait for a response, or couldn’t wait as Angel dragged him back into the bush without another moment’s hesitation. Instead, he threw out the frisbee in Spike’s place, conking Twilight right in the glasses. "Ow, my glasses!"

Spike was confused, considering that he was attending a secret meeting in a flower bush; in the park of all places. “Okay, so, what do you need my help for?”

Angel sighed, beginning to explain to the magical talking dog to the best of his abilities, through squeaks and body gestures. He saw that Spike was trying to listen, but had a hard time following along. He was feeling desperate, growing upsettingly impatient.

“Woah, woah, slow down, man. What’s the matter?”

Angel buried his face into his paws, holding back whatever was supposed to be crying tears. His owner was in danger of a sinister aquatic bird, and here he was wasting his time trying to clearly communicate to an animal that could clearly communicate with humans in place of animals.

Spike felt flustered at the bunny nearly crying. “O-okay, so uh, I think I got what you’re trying to say. Something about a penguin and Fluttershy, I think? Is that right?”

Angel looked up from his vulnerable state, nodding fiercely with elation. It was a less-than basic understanding of the events, but it was good enough.

“And you need help with something to do with this…whatever it is, right?”

Angel nodded again, breathing with heavy relief.

“Okay, man. I’ll help you out. Gives me an excuse to get away from Twilight’s poor skills at a frisbee.”

Angel impatiently tapped his foot, causing Spike to chuckle. “Ahehe, sorry about that. Where do we start?”

Angel looked around, then indicated Spike to follow him through the brambles. He peered out onto the sidewalk, watching for anyone to come by. It seemed empty so far, considering it was close to being the very end of the day, but the aura of the sunset wasn’t giving off a feeling of comfort, rather an anticipated sense of sinister plotting.

Spike poked his head out beside Angel’s, and seemed to harbor the same feelings of dread, like something crooked was about to occur. Neither of them seemed to like the feelings that were dragging their stomachs.

Suddenly, Angel shoved the both of them back into hiding, eyes wide and holding both of their mouths clamped shut, hoping that their stagnated breathing didn’t give them away. When he felt brave enough, he poked his eyes through the twigs to see the penguin smoothly walking along the sidewalk past them without a second glance. He noticed that there was something in the left flipper, with very similar designs and color palettes.

It was Fluttershy’s cell phone, in the hands of the sinister penguin.

Spike watched the penguin, noticing Angel’s leery eyes. “That’s him, right?” he whispered.

Angel carefully shifted out of the brambles, Spike following him, ducking behind positions while keeping on foot with the steely bird. Whatever he was planning, he must’ve been extremely clever enough to risk being exposed and so far out of range of the Animal Shelter, and with Fluttershy’s phone in his mits. He carried himself so calm and collectively, it reeked of evil…or just plain suspicion.

The penguin looked behind him when he stopped, making sure that he wasn’t being followed, checking around all possible perspectives. Anyone could be watching from anywhere, but all he got was a cluster of empty roads and sidewalks. Never minding his suspicions, he crept forward with the greatest of secrecy, spotting his target.

High up, hidden within the thick clusters of leaves of a tree, Angel and Spike watched as the penguin clambered up the side of the trestle, then hopped onto the window ledge, peering into the lit up room.

“Hey, wait a minute, this is Rarity’s house,” Spike whispered in realization.

Angel closed his mouth, noticing the penguin flinch a tad. He glanced around, but heard nothing further, and Angel relaxed his grip, glaring at the sheepish dog.

The penguin looked into the room of the house, watching with great care and concentration at the room’s only occupant, waiting for the appropriate moment to make his move.

Rarity was busy grooming her hair in the mirror, humming as she did so. She didn’t have much else planned for the weekend, as her family’s store was closed on Sundays, so she opted to distract herself with grooming, hoping to catch a brainwave of some sorts.

She was just about to move to filing her nails, when she received an alert. Curious as to who could be daft enough to send her messages this late in the evening, never minding that it was the weekend. Even stranger, it was a message from Fluttershy of all people.

Read at 8:56 p.m.
Fluttershy: Hi, Rarity. Could you meet me at the Animal Shelter at around 11:00? I’ve got something I want to show you. And please bring all jewelry that contains diamonds. I’ll explain everything when we meet up.

Rarity was perplexed out of her mind. Why would Fluttershy of all people want to stay up late? And wasn’t she already off of work at this hour? Even more importantly, what interest did she have in her jewelry, let alone the diamond ones?

Well, she did say that she would explain everything when they would meet, and Fluttershy was one of her closest friends, and probably one of the most trusting people she knew.

Today at 8:59 p.m.
Rarity: Sure thing! I’ll be right over as you say.

The whole thing felt strange, borderline suspicious. If Fluttershy wasn’t being sincere, Rarity would have to prepare for the absolute worst, dreading that her friend was in danger.

A noise from outside her window shot her vision towards the glass pane. She carefully peered out every viable direction in curiosity, feeling on edge from Fluttershy’s message. When she found nothing, she closed the blinds, out of caution of a potential stalker or onlooker.

Standing out of view of the window off to the side, the penguin clutched the glowing phone pressed against his stomach in an effort to block out the ringtone and the blinding glow. Turning it off, he wiped his forehead with relief. This career never got any less stressful.

He hopped off the sill, climbing down the trestle with one flipper gripping onto one of the vines allowing himself to casually slide to a calm and careful landing on the soft grass. Now that an important piece of the game was now in place, he set his focus on one last major obstacle that needed a hint of improvising. So far, he believes to have thought up a solution, it was only a matter of putting it to work.

Suddenly, a crack from overhead froze him up. He looked up to see a leaf casually flutter to the ground in front of him, leering at the thing until it settled. A scutter caught his senses in time to see a squirrel scamper down the tree and out of sight into the undergrowth.

He quickened his pace down the sidewalk, not caring a cent that he walked right onto the leaf, squishing the poor caterpillar that was munching away on his dinner flat into gel.

Up in the tree, Spike looked down in shock at the state of the caterpillar, trying not to shiver. Angel glared in the direction of the penguin, brushing his chin in suspicion. He watched as he sent a message to who he assumed to be Rarity, but for what reason? What connection did the drama-queen fashion-girl have to the growing conspiracy surrounding the penguin?

“So, now what?” Spike asked.

Angel led Spike all the way back to the Animal Shelter, crawling and sneaking through the undergrowth around the building to the back door. He motioned for Spike to stand on his hind legs right beneath the door handle, before climbing up the dog and onto his head. He readied himself, then leapt up to grab the handle, then took out the key he had hidden for various occasions such as this.

He unlocked the door, only to find he couldn’t push it open using his frail bunny strength. He sighed in defeat, then waved down to Spike, indicating by unsuccessfully shoving against the doorframe. Spike nodded, then pressed his body, pushing with all his might until the door finally gave way into opening enough for them to enter.

“Whew, that wasn’t so hard,” Spike said.

Angel dropped from the handle, stepping inside. Immediately, the both of them recognized that something was off. Everything and everyone was completely silent, save for the quiet sighs of snoozing house-pets, even from the fish.

“That’s weird,” Spike remarked. “Are they usually asleep at this hour?”

Angel shook his worried head. Suspicious, Spike walked up to one of the food bowls, surprised that the dogs were sleeping with a bowl that was barely half empty. That just was not possible for these animals, no matter their feelings. He sniffed at the food, then a quick taste of a small pellet, spitting it out in disgust.

“Ugh, gross! What is in this stuff?”

Angel caught his companion’s grumblings, which only grew his suspicions. Coupled with the fact that the entire floor had been cleared away of discarded food, which he was thankful to his owner for, something else didn’t add up.

“Hey, I found something!” Spike had followed the scent of the food to the nearest trash can, where he pulled out an empty bottle labeled “Sleep Away: Get Your Animals To Sleep Without Any Consideration Whatsoever”. “I think they’ve been drugged. Weird how there's no label.”

Angel nodded in agreement. It seemed that this penguin was becoming even more and more dangerous with each passing revelation after another, and it all appeared to lead to something big; whatever it was, it meant danger to his owner.

“Something on your mind?” Spike asked.

Getting an idea, Angel walked up to the door from before, hopping up to open it wide. Inside was mostly left unchanged, apart from the cluttered mess of the desk. The two pets climbed up onto the top, finding a large notebook in the middle, next to an oversized cloth sack, a bundle of rope, a long rolled-up length of soft cloth, and a picture that was supposed to depict Fluttershy and all her friends, only for a cutout picture of the penguin taped right next to her to cover up everyone besides Rarity.

Spike opened the notebook, suspicious, and gaped. “Get a load of this, Angel.”

Five pages in, a detailed sketch of Fluttershy was depicted next to a height measurement of five feet and four inches. Right next to it was Fluttershy again, only in a crouching position and surrounded by a pencil sketch of a circle. On the next page was a bulging circle next to a rough sketch of the penguin depicted in a basket of a hot-air balloon. The strangest part wasn’t the penguin in a balloon, only the fact that he was drawn wearing a small glove.

Angel gaped at the detailed sketch of his owner, then scowled at the thought of her being violated by the penguin.

“This just seems to answer less questions than before,” Spike quipped. “Just what is the penguin up to?”

Just as they were about to further peak into the deepest buried sketches, a loud rhythmic beeping noise from outside sent them scurrying. Spike lost his balance on the stool, dragging down the cloth sack and rope in an attempt to correct his balance. Angel grabbed the items, setting them back in place before hopping onto Spike’s back as he ran them both out of the room with panting sweat and speeding paws.

Just as they made it outside, Spike forced himself against the door sliding it shut, immediately followed by Angel leaping up to lock it firmly, then swiftly throwing it into a nearby shrub. The two of them then bolted along the side of the building, stopping in their tracks at the sight parked right on the side of the road right across.

“Hey, wait a minute,” Spike hissed. “That’s Wallace’s road machine.”

Parked with the port-side caterpillar track at an angle over the side of the road, the road machine was slowly moving in reverse to the beating that was custom for all larger than life machinery, or the ones that were built larger than the standard van and had very dangerous blind spots. There was an amber warning light that was flashing above the cab following the rhythm of the beeping.

Then the light went dead, and the machine came to halt. The engine slowly died down, followed by the sound of the cab door opening, from the unseen starboard side. The sounds of calm and collective webbed feet patting against the ground echoed throughout the empty street, and from around the backside of the machine came a walking slab of metal that was shaped into a crude-looking slope. The metal slope turned to be placed on top of the tread, hanging by a gap underneath the giant tub, where a trapdoor was located, to reveal the penguin wearing a red glove on his head.

“He looks really stupid wearing that thing,” Spike whispered.

Luckily, the penguin was too busy admiring the look of his trademark gloved hat to register the soft hissing of an unseen voice. He especially enjoyed the look of his dashing figure as he slicked back his gloved hat, making sure that it was positioned on his head in a straight manner.

Once he was finished with himself, he turned his attention to the trapdoor. Standing aside where he felt would be a safe position, he pulled the pin out of the lock, causing the door to drop down onto the metal slope and sending out seven tons worth of hot melted tarmac, sloping down and dropping into a pouring motion on the empty nighttime street.

Not bothering to wait to watch the street be filled up, he walked along the tread to hop right off the end, then calmly walked across the clean portion of the street and onto the sidewalk. Peering across his surroundings for the final time, he carefully entered the Animal Shelter, making sure that he aroused no one by slowly and concisely closing the door with a quiet click of the handle.

Once inside, he then made his way over to the room past the sleeping animals, completely missing a duo of pets creeping past the front door, then breaking into a run once they were out of view of the Shelter.

“We need to get help!” Spike panted. “Wait, where are you leading us?”

Angel Bunny had a lead on the talking dog, and allowed his scents to bring over to the place he intended.

“Why am I smelling cheese?”

---

“Monterey Jack, mmm,” Wallace happily grinned, holding a cracker with a fresh slice. “We've definitely hit the market on cheese this time, Gromit.”

The moment he was about to take his first bite was the moment when something big and ferocious crashed into the front door, causing Wallace to wobble in place, dropping his plate and cheese in a crushing crash.

He quickly opened the door allowing the dazed and confused Spike and Angel Bunny to topple over through the entryway.

“Oh, uh, um…evening, lads,” Wallace stammered.

“Hey, Wallace,” Spike groaned, clutching his head.

By this point, Gromit had arrived downstairs from his room where he was knitting.

“Uh, what brings you two all the way out here at this hour, then?” Wallace asked.

At that moment, Angel began hopping like mad and throwing his arms about in exasperation, keeping a terrified look on his face, hoping beyond hope that this man would be able to understand his plight.

“Uh, what are you trying to say lad?” Wallace said, trying to follow along.

Angel was becoming more desperate, trying with anything he could to communicate the danger. Just then, he spotted the poster in the front room. He rushed inside, getting a good look on the face of the depicted criminal. His eyes widened with grim realization, then presented it to all who were present in the house.

Spike lit up like a lighter. “That’s him!”

“Who’s him? Whatever do you mean?” Wallace asked.

“That’s the penguin we’re trying to tell you about! He’s going to do something to Rarity and Fluttershy, and for some reason he’s stolen your machine and emptied out all of the tarmac, and Angel thought to come here!”

Wallace and Gromit both shared looks of complete shock and terror, then looked back to the poster in the bunny’s paws. Their emoting faces did not go unnoticed. It was as if in five seconds they became entirely different people; frankly no one in Canterlot had barely ever witnessed first hand at Wallace frowning a genuine frown. He was frowning the worst kind of frown: the kind that brought up old memories that were harbingers of dark clouds and doom.

“Oh, dear,” Wallace grimaced.

“What is it?” Spike asked. “Do you know this penguin?”

“All to well, lad. In fact, we’ve uh, crossed paths with him multiple times in the past. Haven’t we, lad?”

Gromit grimly nodded.

Wallace grimly leered. “His name is Feathers McGraw, and he’s a dangerous, cunning, and sneaky diamond burglar.”

Angel’s and Spike’s eyes went wide with sheer terror. “If he’s a diamond burglar, then w-what d-does he have to d-d-do with Fluttershy?”

“I don’t know, lad,” Wallace worried. “But whatever it is, it won’t be good.”

“What do we do?”

Wallace pondered with a worried look encapsulating his face, then after a moment became a determined scowl. “I’ll tell you exactly what we’re going to do.” He turned around and hiked into the garage, where he opened up and hopped into the van. “Come on, lads! We’ve got no time to lose!”

“Where are we going?” Spike asked, clambering in behind Angel.

“Gromit and I have taken down Feathers McGraw before, and we can certainly do it again!”

Wallace firmly pressed his foot down on the accelerator, speeding the van off into the evening air.

Author's Note:

Stayed tuned folks. Next week: the big heist!

And I've forgotten the crackers...again!

Same cracking time! Same cracking channel!

Comments

[Comickook]

Another excellent job on the exchanges, characterizations and future chapter set-up. Definitely appreciated Spike's reflection on how his night was going before Angel came by asking for his help, as well as how Spike caught on well enough to what Angel was saying to be of help. Also liked Angel and Spike's investigation uncovering Feathers' attempt to trap both Fluttershy and Rarity as well as figuring out how Feathers used knockout drops (for all intents and purposes) on so many of the other animals. And, yeah, Spike and Angel getting more info from Wallace and Gromit was also great.

VERY much looking forward to more of this.

[Omegamorph]

Yeah still trying to figure the general layout of that penguin's plan.