From the Big Apple: A Tale of Misadventure and Affection

by Nurse Bedpan

Halfway to the truth

Celestia’s sun hangs low in the afternoon sky, painting the heavens a rich orange. Its peaceful, regal presence provides a stark contrast to you and the Cutie Mark Crusaders. Its tranquil descent mirrors your panicked rise to the heavens; its slow progress, your rapid climb.

As gravity retakes you, Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo, only one thought manages to makes itself apparent to you:

Oh, dear sweet Princess, my brother’s right: I DO scream like a filly!

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!”

==================================================================

“Ah gotta tell ya, Slick – Ah haven’t heard anypony hit them high notes since Sweetie over here!,” said the yellow filly, punctuating her jab with a physical one to your ribs. You and Sweetie answer back with a loud raspberry, while Scootaloo does her best to choke back her glee.

“Hardy har har, Miss ‘Oh, let’s use the whole entire Pega-Pulley set-up!’ And if I remember right, you were right up there screaming with me!,” you counter, albeit jokingly. As strange as it seems, it feels completely normal to spew barbs at these fillies. They aren’t sensitive or emotional. There’s no hoof-dipping with these girls – for everything they did, they jumped in head first.

It makes you feel jealous, really. Their spirit, their drive – it puts yours to shame. The last pony you met who had the same initiative… was Babs.

Sweet, shy Babs who could hardly even talk to other ponies until she came back from Ponyville.

Your heart soars at the thought: you finally found what had changed your friend for the better. Now, if only it could explain why she ran from you…

Did she feel afraid that you wouldn’t accept her? Did she think you couldn’t look past her new personality?

No, that doesn’t make ANY sense. You did your best for three entire days to help her with her crusading, even before you had met up with these three. A small voice in the back of your mind pipes up too.

You care too much for that to be true.

What could it have been?

Your thoughts are shattered by a loud “Ha ha haaaaaa!” followed by a pained yelp from Scootaloo. Apparently, your little journey into lala-land made you miss out on an apparently hilarious retort from Apple Bloom. So hilarious, in fact, that it made Scootaloo forget that she had suffered minor bruising to her ribs from her “flight.”

It still surprises, how fast Ponyville medics came to your aid. Four high-pitched screams of pure fear are easy to miss in a crowded city – in a quaint village, not so much. Nurse Tender Heart’s sympathy was already well-spent by the time you had made your inglorious return to Ponyville General. Her demeanor had steadily become icier with each return to the hospital by you and the Crusaders. “You poor little things” slowly but surely changed into a poorly masked, surly “Oh Celestia, you four again?!”

Since you weren’t in too terrible a condition and were a third of the size of a full grown pony, the hospital staff decided to keep all of you in the recovery room. Scootaloo had taken the brunt of the impact, so she got to stay on the larger patient’s bed. Remembering your mother’s words (“And always act like a gentlecolt!,” she would advise and threaten whenever you went to any social function), you agreed to lounge on the chair and give reign of the guest bed to the other two crusaders.

Aside from some fresh bandages and some cozy towels wrapped round their heads, the Crusaders looked none the worse for wear. Scootaloo, despite being told to rest and having a rigid splint on her right side, chatted merrily with her cohorts. Despite the complete failure of the Flim & Flam Fun Flyer, she was in amazingly high spirits.

“Who knew that it was built for pranking foals? It looked so convincing!,” said the orange filly. Her voice contained both disappointment and wonder. “Man, I was THIS close to finally getting off the ground!” She motions her forehooves together, creating a tiny gap in front of her muzzle to illustrate.

Apple Bloom sounds less enthusiastic. “Ah jus’ KNEW there was somethin’ fishy about the whole thing. Can’t believe I missed ‘F&F.”” Sweetie just sat up on the bed, dangling her hooves off to the side. She looks rather gloomy. “Aww, it isn’t your fault, Apple Bloom. None of us knew any better. Besides, we used MY magic, remember?”

“Sweetie, no. Don’t even go there. I doubt even an five-star mage could have gotten that thing to fly!,” you interject. Something about Sweetie blaming herself made your heart sting. It doesn’t feel right, to have a friend hate themselves over something they couldn’t have seen coming.

All four of you sit in silence for some time, the Crusaders attention turned to you because of your outburst. The air starts to feel heavier as all three fillies eye you with curiosity and worry…

“What’s a five-star mage?,” asks the white unicorn filly. The sadness in her voice is gone, replaced completely by mild wonder.

“Oh,” you fidget slightly. “It’s just something from a game I used to play. Err… sorry for bringing it up all of a sudden.”

“Yeah. Besides, a five-star mage is already called a ‘warlock.’ Duh.”

All heads turn to Scootaloo of all ponies.

“What? A filly can’t enjoy ‘Cribs and Conjury’ in her off time? I DO have other friends, y’know.” She smirks, despite having a vibrant blush across her cheeks.

It starts out as a snicker.

Then a giggle.

Followed by full-blown laughter.

Something about the thought of Scootaloo of all ponies knowing about a relatively obscure game just tips off all four of you to how fun and silly the day has been. Sure, there were no new cutie marks in sight, but it just felt good to be able to hang out with friends like these. It feels as natural as family.

Not to mention all four of you had been pranked hard by two grown stallions with nothing but some glitter and fancy packaging (without even being there). Whoever this Flim and Flam were, they made you begrudgingly admit their talent for bamboozling ponies. At least you didn’t get too banged up for it.

==================================================================

As it turns out, Scootaloo’s injuries are minor enough for a healing spell to immediately address. After a somewhat disheartened talk from Nurse Tender Heart (who sounded more annoyed by having to repeat herself than by your continued ignorance of her), you head off for a round of milkshakes back at Sugarcube Corner. As you exit the hospital lobby, you and the three fillies waste no time in discussing how to collaborate on more crusading through letters and mail. You all talk miles a minute, thinking of new schemes and possible cutie marks you could earn. Your reverie is disrupted by a girlish sneer from a few feet down the road.

“Puh-lease. You didn’t even notice when I swiped your lame F&F Flyer’s real instruction guide. What hope could you possibly have of doing anything that requires half a brain?” You squint and spot the source of the mocking voice – a pale pink coated Earth pony with a white, purple-streaked mane. She’s wearing a frail little crown on her head, similar to the symbol on her flanks.

It looks like some things never change. Gender aside, it looks like you’ve found Ponyville’s own version of Top Brass.

“Diamond Tiara,” greets Sweetie Belle, her voice stern despite its high-pitch. “Where’s Silver Spoon? Did she finally get sick of you too?”

“Ha ha, very funny, blank-flank.” The term makes you wince, as do Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle. “My galpal is staying over in Manehattan for the weekend. She says she’ll bring back enough culture for the both of us AND this backwater town.”

She smiles, satisfied at the insult she’s thrown, and looks over at you. Her smile becomes a more sinister smirk. “I see you’ve been trying to earn a cutie mark in catching cooties. What, you couldn’t even manage that? You are just so sad.”

You look to your friends, attempting to read them. Apple Bloom is frowning, pawing at the ground intently, probably thinking of something to say. Scootaloo is seething where she stands, her body ready to pounce and give this Diamond Tiara what for. Only Sweetie Belle maintains eye contact, her body relatively still. A smile slowly crawls over her face as she tilts her head towards you, saying (or more accurately, squeaking) “So sad that THIS Manehattanite decided to hang out with us instead of you? Looks like we have more class than somepony who’s cutie mark is all about class!”

The pink menace freezes, her mouth slightly ajar. A few seconds pass by before she leaves in a huff, heading farther down the road without even bothering to give you a second glance. “Whatever. That colt looks like another reject anyway.” She turns her head towards Apple Bloom. “Just like that hillbilly’s cousin.” She proceeds to walk out of sight, her snout held up.

“So THAT’s why we fell for that scam! One of these days, I’m gonna pop her right in the kisser,” says your pegasus companion menacingly, her wings allowing her to hover and pantomime a fierce uppercut.

“Now, don’t get too worked up none, Scoots. Diamond Tiara always did have a habit of mouthin’ off ‘bout stuff she don’t know about. It was mean, sure – but we’re all fine anyways. Just another harmless prank.” Apple Bloom’s response, although surprisingly level-headed , is still laced with resentment. “Ah’m really sorry ‘bout what she said, Slick. Mah sister says she doesn’t really mean it… Even though I think she really does,” she adds, a small smile now gracing her muzzle.

“Ah, it’s no sweat. I’m surprised how well Sweetie managed to stand up to her though,” you reply, first to the yellow filly and turning your attention to the white unicorn. To your surprise, she’s still holding the same pose, her eyes appearing glazed over. A quick nudge from Scootaloo undoes her frozen state. “Did… did it work? I was trying to “get into the zone,” like my sister told me to. Guess I kinda spaced out.”

“Well, I don’t know about you girls, bit I REALLY need a milkshake right about now.” You need to shift the mood again. The stars aren’t out yet, but it feels like such a waste to have the day draw to a close like it did. “So, Apple Bloom, I take it that Tiara filly and Babs have met too, huh?”

This question turns out to be one of the worst things you could have asked.

Although at first they are hesitant, the Cutie Mark Crusaders begin to tell you such stories about “Bad Seed.”

==================================================================

Making your way to Aunt and Uncle Cake’s establishment becomes an endurance test. You keep doubling back and stubbing your hooves on rocks and sticks as the story progresses from bad to worse.

Every new detail is terrifying. Destruction of property, incessant name calling, stalking, threats of physical violence, theft of property… Babs, who are you now?

You don’t even say goodbye to the Crusaders as you head up to the guest room, leaving your untouched milkshake at the table. You hardly notice the glib pink mare who hurls confetti and sings some oddball song into your ear. She seems to get the message quickly enough – she settles for just watching you flop onto bed. She doesn’t speak another word.

Not that it would have mattered much.

All you hear is a dull static buzz.

Your heart hurts.

Your eyes begin to burn the moment your head hits the mattress.

You feel…

Betrayed.