Flamma: The Tale of a Pyromancer

by TMH

Chapter II: The Prank

Chapter II: The Prank

Pleasant Duty was having a, well, pleasant day. His C.O. had put him in for a commendation, for being the designated carriage driver at her Nightmare Night party, his new suit, that cost him over three hundred bits, was coming in today, this was his last day before a two week leave, and on top of all that his friend and fellow guardspony, Silver Streak, was buying at the tavern tonight.

If he had known what was coming he would have stayed in bed that morning.

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Fair and Vinyl had, with the help of shenanigans, taken an overwatch position on one of the southern Royal Guard checkpoints. Like most of the other checkpoints, this checkpoint consisted of a small barracks/armory for anywhere from three to twelve guards. Three to twelve unsuspecting guards.

Satisfied that no special event was taking place, our heroes began their conniving:

“What’s the plan?” Fair asked with a glance at Vinyl

“You know those little parts of their armor that they stick their snouts in and pull down around their necks?” Fair did know. The parade armor of the royal guard had a piece that was connected to the top of the main armor that you had to insert your snout into and pull down into place.

“Yeah, what about it?” A bit of trepidation was present in Fair’s voice. He had an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach about this. Even more so than the time he thought eating grass straight from the compost pile was a good idea.

“Well they always rush to go switch into it when some important pony is coming right?” A nod in the affirmative. “So what if you use your magic to kinda melt the little hingy thingy so that, when they go to put it on, they get their snouts stuck in it?”

“Um, I don’t know Vinyl wouldn’t that be vandmalism?” Fair asked with the most adawwable wittle unsure face! *ahem*
“Huh?” Vinyl enunciated her perplexity with an also so adawwable wittle confused face and ohmagawd they are just so cutesy and I just want to hug them and hug them and hugthem and hugthem andhugthemandhugthemandhugthem!

“I mean, wouldn’t that be bad?”

“Nope!”

…

…

…

…

“Why?”

“Oh, because Celestia can pay for more of them. I know so because Uncle is always talking about how the gov-er-no-ment is taking all his bits and he can’t see why the Princess won’t put more money into the ed-u-ca-shone thingy because he’s an old stallion and by Celestia he’s worked hard to get his teaching job and now they decide to cut the fun-dang to it and then he kinda mumbles to himself about having ‘half a mind to march up to the castle and demand that they raise his pen-shune’ but then he takes some of his ‘special pills’ and sleeps for a long time. He snores.”

Ignoring the complete onslaught of verbiage that was just thrust at him, Fair responds by putting a hoof to his chin, “Hmmmm, I don’t know.”

“If you help I’ll let you play one of my drums!”

“Deal.”

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Pleasant could almost taste the sweet, frothy, Canterlot Ale flowing down his throat like an alcoholic nectar of the gods bottled and sold in often less than reputable establishments, of which he, and most other guards, was a frequenter of.

He was so caught up in his daydream that he barely even took notice when he thought he heard snickering coming from the window just to the left him. He would have opened his eyes, gotten up from his chair, and investigated, but the promise of the aforementioned ale combined with the fact that the windows in this barracks were notoriously squeaky lead him to decide not to bother with it.

Big mistake for him.

Some might even call it a Celestial mistake.

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“Hehehehe, Fair look at that pony over there, he’s sucking his hoof.” Vinyl observed to Fair with a glance downward.

“Kinda busy Vinyl!” Fair replied not looking back up at the filly he was currently boosting to the window.

“Hehe, sorry.”

Several struggles against gravity later.

“Okay, okay. I’m in the window. Give me your hooves.” Vinyl stretched her own hooves down to grab Fair’s.

“Okay, pull me up.” Fair still felt a sense of foreboding, like a black cloud had blotted out the sun, and when it passed the sun, too, was dark. Kinda like that time he accidently incinerated a piece of furniture his mother was making, and, when the ash cloud had settled, he looked back at his soot stained mother only to find that her eyes were watering, because she hadn’t closed them once since he had set that table on fire.

“Umpf. You got it?” Vinyl glanced at her friend’s hoofing.

“Yeah. Now how are we gonna get down from here?” Fair whispered while gazing at the floor so far below.

“That’s easy. We jump.”

“Oh. But won’t that hurt.”

“Not if you know what you’re doing!”

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“Mmmmmmmm, another round on you? Well, if you insist...”

Pleasant Duty was still preoccupied with the vividly viceful vixen which was his voracious verisimilitude of inebriation in the very near future. He definitely would be drinking tonight, though not with joy.

He was awoken from his illusion of liquor by a feminine scream coming from nearby. He knew that voice well, the voice that had yelled him into attention countless times during his being stationed here. That was the voice of his C.O., Sergeant Mossy Stones.

There were only two things that would prompt that kind of reaction from the sergeant’s vocal cords: an all expense paid trip to the spa, or a surprise inspection. I would have also added being kicked in the genitals, however, Mossy Stones is of the female persuasion.

Pleasant really hoped she was going to the spa today.

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“Woa-aaaaaaaaaaaah!” Whack.

Snicker. “Nice landing Fair. You okay?”

“No...”

“Aw, quit your pouting and get up. We’ve got a job to do.”

“Ow, how did you make it down so easily?”

“I jumped. You slipped.” Vinyl giggled, thinking back to her friend’s surprisingly large amount of painful encounters with the ground.

“Well yeah. I guess.” Sigh. “Well let’s get go-”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA...”
“What the hay is that!?” Vinyl and Fair both screamed, their heads, ears, and eyes swiveling around to locate the noise.

“Come on Vinyl let’s hurry! I’ll get the armor, you go look out for anypony.”

“Right.” She ran over to the door as fast as her adorable wittle wegs could cawwy her and she wooked outside -cough- she uh, she opened the door and poked her head out to see six guardponies standing around a guardpony that was holding a scroll in her hoof and screaming her head off.

“What do you see Vinyl?” Fair asked, not looking away from the second set of armor he was sabotaging.

“Um, some guardmare that found out her puppy just died or something?” Vinyl kinda half-stated half-asked whilst scratching her mane.

“I’m almost done with the last one...” One zap of magic later. “Alright let’s get outta here!”

“Uh oh, Fair they’re running this way!”

“Um, um...oh! Hurry get in that big saddlebag!”

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“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-”, Sergeant Mossy Stones slapped herself. “Don’t just stand there idiots! Get into your parade armor!” She looked back down at the scroll that a pegasus guard had just delivered to her.

Sergeant Stones,


In light of the recent series of humiliations you and other Guardsponies have allowed to disgrace this Office, Nation, and City, Princess Celestia herself has decided to make a round of surprise inspections today.

Your turn.

No doubt she will catch you twiddling your hooves and making a mockery of everything I, and this Guard Corp, hold dear.





From the Office of the Commander of the Guard,
Spirited Helm

Ad Majorem Celestia Gloriam

Sergeant Stones resumed her screams of terror and galloped toward the barracks with the rest of her guards.

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Celestia was amused.

Although she would never admit it to anypony, she enjoyed seeing her little ponies squirm sometimes. At least until they started begging her to refrain from banishing them, or throwing them in the dungeon, or banishing them and then throwing them in a dungeon in the place that she banished them to.

She really had no idea where these terrible fears came from. She had spent years trying to figure it out, and she ended up with only two possibilities: she has psychopathic tyrannical episodes that no pony has told her about, or nationwide indigestion.

But, nevertheless, the day’s round of surprise inspections had gone smoothly so far, excepting that one guard that fainted when she looked him in the eyes, and she had no doubt that the rest of the day would be relaxing and uneventful. Devoid of drama. Placid and tranquil. In a word: serene.

“I really should get out more.”

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“Your horn is poking my back!” Shuffling.

“Yeah, well, yours is itching my back hooves!” Bit of rough-housing.

SLAM

“Alright, come on, get moving!” A quaking, yet authoritative, feminine voice yelled out. “No time to put it on now! Grab your stuff, get outside, and FORM RANKS!”

A chorus of “Yes ma’am”s echoed in the barracks as guards in various states of fear, confusion, and shellshock scrambled to their storage spaces and removed their armor with yanks and throws that could be mistaken for muscle spasms. Some of them probably were.

With petrified haste (completely possible I assure you) Stones galloped over to her own cubby, flung her parade armor into her hooves, picked up her officer's saddlebags, and ran outside to form her guards into ranks and pretend like they were born standing at attention in those spots.

Vinyl ignored the pain emanating from her back and leaned over to Fair. “We’re in trouble aren’t we?”

Fair, ever the eloquent orator, responded simply. “We sure are sister.”

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